Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 86

Ran Lin had seen the August 14^th fashion cocktail party on the schedule provided by Liu Wanwan, but he thought it was just a simple press release, not expecting to be pulled by his agent at noon for grooming, maintenance, and styling.

Although his buzz cut didn’t leave much room for creativity, considerable effort went into selecting and coordinating his outfit. During the fitting process, Ran Lin realized the significance of the cocktail party and confirmed with his agent that it was indeed organized by XX publication.

“Next time, Xi Jie, you should have Wanwan mark these important events with a red pen on the schedule,” Ran Lin said, standing with his arms outstretched for the stylist to work on his outfit, regretting not having watched his diet or slept well the past few days.

Wang Xi noticed his annoyance but reassured him after a close look. “Your skin looks pretty good.”

The afternoon of grooming did wonders for his skin, but Ran Lin still felt he could have been better, especially since this was a rare opportunity to elevate his status in the fashion scene.

The annual dinner hosted by XX publication is a major event in both the fashion and entertainment industries, attended by high-level executives from entertainment companies, major brands’ China heads, and many celebrities, creating a festive and warm atmosphere.

In comparison, the cocktail party was much simpler and more discreet, with limited invitations typically extended to heavyweights in the entertainment industry closely related to the magazine, heads of high-end brands in China, and a few media personalities. The celebrities invited were more about relationships than fame.

The relaxed and casual atmosphere made the cocktail party more like a gathering of friends and an easier setting for networking and fostering relationships, providing a unique opportunity for artists genuinely interested in penetrating the fashion circle.

“With <Chronicles of Winter> and <Dyeing Fire> releasing next year, you shouldn’t worry about resources for a while. But without making an impression in fashion, you’ll never get high-profile endorsements. So…” Wang Xi took a couple of steps back to appraise Ran Lin’s outfit from all angles, quite pleased. “Perform well tonight and outshine everyone.”

Ran Lin frowned at his dapper reflection in the mirror, feeling his agent’s target might be a bit off.

“By the way,” Wang Xi remembered something, making eye contact with Ran Lin through the full-length mirror. “I spoke with the Legend of Lantern Blossoms crew today; you’ll join them two days earlier, on August 16^th. It was initially set for the 18th, but earlier is better for the director and producer; it means they’ll be more accommodating.”

“Alright,” Ran Lin readily agreed, appreciating his agent’s thoroughness. “Joining two days early means wrapping up two days early.”

Wang Xi had anticipated his response; for Ran Lin, the joy of acting always came first, even for less acclaimed works.

Wang Xi often wished she had started working with Ran Lin earlier, but then she’d think it was better that they hadn’t met too soon. Ran Lin deserved better support, like a strong wind lifting a great roc. She doubted if she was even the wind that could lift Ran Lin now, let alone in the past.

The stylist eventually chose a light gray suit with a subtly striped white shirt for Ran Lin. From a distance, the shirt appeared plain white, but up close, the faint pattern was visible, understated yet textured. He wore no tie, and the suit was unbuttoned, creating a formal yet cool look perfect for the hot August weather. The clean gray and white color scheme complemented Ran Lin’s buzz cut, giving him a distinctively stylish look.

Ran Lin took a full-body selfie with his phone in the mirror.

Wang Xi chuckled. “Stop admiring yourself.” She checked her watch and added, “It’s about time to leave.”

As Ran Lin put his phone back into his suit pocket and followed Wang Xi out, he noticed a new watch on her wrist, the first one he’d seen her wear since she removed her Cartier last year.

As they eased into the evening traffic, Ran Lin casually inquired, “Xi Jie, is that a new watch?”

Wang Xi was momentarily startled before proudly showing off her wrist. “Yes. Do you like it?”

Ran Lin didn’t know much about watches beyond a few well-known brands and classic models, so he couldn’t tell if Wang Xi’s watch was a discreetly luxurious brand. Compared to the delicate femininity of her last watch, this one was more straightforward and clear, perfect for simply telling the time, with a high visual comfort rating.

“It looks good,” Ran Lin sincerely complimented.

The value of a watch for the wearer isn’t in the brand or price but in its suitability. Whatever feels comfortable is the best.

Wang Xi was evidently pleased with his comment, happily observing her watch for a moment longer.

Ran Lin had been on set for the first half of the year, so his interaction with Wang Xi was limited. Upon returning, he noticed she seemed more relaxed than before. This didn’t mean she was neglecting her work duties but rather that she appeared less tense overall, a subtle change perhaps not noticeable to others but quite apparent to Ran Lin and Liu Wanwan.

Privately, Ran Lin and his assistant agreed that the current Wang Xi was less imposing than before, and even from an outsider’s perspective, her usual hustle seemed to have a new ease and composure.

Looking at Liu Wanwan, the young girl was gazing out at the gradually lit street lamps, lost in thought.

Ran Lin lowered his head to quietly send a message—[There was a heavy rain in Beijing yesterday. How’s the weather in Shanghai?]

Lu Yiyao had flown to Shanghai the night after the party to film an outdoor sports program, which was considered charity and was expected to last a week. Ran Lin was prepared not to see his partner before joining the “Legend of Lantern Blossoms” crew.

About ten minutes later, a reply came with a vibration—[Sunny yesterday. Extremely sunny today.]

Ran Lin laughed and then felt a bit worried—[Be careful. Make sure to protect yourself from the sun and apply a soothing mask tonight.]

Lu Yiyao—[Image]

Ran Lin—[Speak properly, why are you sending a selfie…]

Lu Yiyao—[Just letting you know I can handle it with my looks.]

Ran Lin felt speechless and instinctively wanted to tease back, but looking at the face in the picture, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything disingenuous.

Lu Yiyao’s “narcissism” could almost be brainwashing; anyway, now Ran Lin felt there was no one more handsome than his boyfriend in the whole world.

As a gesture of reciprocity, Ran Lin also sent over the full-body selfie he had just taken.

Lu Yiyao immediately noticed—[Are you on an assignment?]

Ran Lin—[XX publication’s cocktail party. On my way there now.]

Lu Yiyao looked at the message thoughtfully, a bit surprised.

The threshold for the XX publication cocktail party wasn’t low. Although Ran Lin would have two movies released next year, he was currently just a rising star with some popularity from variety shows and dramas. Many celebrities with higher fame and popularity might not even be invited because breaking into this circle requires more than just popularity and fame; connections are crucial. Hence, many artists with both fame and popularity struggle to enter the fashion circle, whereas some with moderate works and public presence manage to make a significant mark and win over major brands.

Wang Xi’s years of networking were indeed impressive.

Lu Yiyao’s mind on serious matters didn’t stop him from teasing—[Next time you send a full-body selfie, you don’t need to be dressed so neatly.]

His experienced partner immediately countered with an emoji precision strike—[The other person doesn’t want to talk and throws a naked man at you.jpg]

Lu Yiyao chuckled, initially looking for a couple-themed emoji in his collection, but then he heard the announcement for boarding.

Forget it. Lu Yiyao turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket. Instead of sending emojis, why not send himself over for a face-to-face surprise.

……

Not getting a response to his emoji, Ran Lin figured Lu Yiyao must be busy with something, as it wasn’t even 6 p.m. yet and still early.

During rush hour, Ran Lin’s car nearly crawled to the cocktail party venue, arriving close to 8 p.m.

As night fell, the area outside the cocktail party was quiet. Even though several cars arrived behind him, there wasn’t the pomp of a red carpet or flashes from paparazzi cameras. Everyone entered orderly, like attending a private party. Only upon entering did Ran Lin see a beautifully designed wooden sign informing attendees that the cocktail party was on the second floor, starting at 8:30 p.m.

Ran Lin was early, and upon entering the second floor, the invited guests were still sparse, scattered around in small groups chatting.

The venue was warmly decorated, facilitating easy movement and providing quiet spots with sofas and chairs for conversations. The background music played soothing, light tunes, adding to the comfortable ambiance.

However, Ran Lin didn’t have much time to soak it all in as Wang Xi spotted an acquaintance and led him over to greet them. It was a senior editor of the publication and a close friend of Wang Xi’s for many years.

With this friend’s introduction, Ran Lin got to know almost everyone from the magazine there. By the time they finished mingling, it was 8:25 p.m., and the venue was now packed with guests, looking resplendent. Apart from a few familiar faces from the entertainment industry, he hardly recognized anyone else.

As the lighting in the venue softened, it became even harder to make out faces.

At 8:30 p.m., the venue quieted down for the host’s speech.

Ran Lin, unable to get close to the front, watched the blurry figure on stage from a distance and clapped along with the rest of the guests at appropriate moments.

After the welcome speech ended and the crowd dispersed, the cocktail party officially began. Ran Lin, holding a glass of champagne, followed Wang Xi around the venue. He hardly drank, but the faint fruity fragrance wafting from the glass was pleasantly uplifting.

“Ms. Wang.”

Just as Wang Xi and Ran Lin finished talking with a media person, a familiar voice called from behind.

Turning around, it was Ding Kai.

Ran Lin, turning with Wang Xi, was also taken aback. It seemed either they never saw this person or kept running into him. Today, Ding Kai was dressed in a black suit, exuding more stability and formality than their last casual encounter.

Wang Xi had caught a glimpse of Ding Kai earlier while mingling with Ran Lin but had expected to ignore each other given the “subtly aborted” collaboration between them. Moreover, since <Mint Green>, she hadn’t been in touch with him, figuring it best to avoid an executive who was too interested in her artist.

But with Ding Kai approaching, Wang Xi had to respond politely. “President Ding, long time no see.”

“With you, yes,” Ding Kai said, looking meaningfully at Ran Lin and smiling. “But not with him.”

Wang Xi looked confusedly at Ran Lin.

Ran Lin had no choice but to admit, “We bumped into President Ding a few days ago while dining.”

“It’s a pity we didn’t get a chance to talk much,” Ding Kai said with a sigh.

The last time they didn’t get to talk much, and now here they were at the cocktail party, finally an opportunity for a proper conversation. However, both Wang Xi and Ran Lin internally rolled their eyes, not taking the bait of his obvious lead.

Ding Kai was like a snake—maybe not poisonous, but his occasional slithering presence was unsettling and unpleasant.

Watching Wang Xi and Ran Lin stand together like a united front, nearly impregnable in their defenses, Ding Kai found amusement. He surmised the pair probably had their fair share of comments about him privately. But it didn’t matter to him; he enjoyed this kind of relationship where they visibly disapproved of him but were still unable to do anything about it, finding endless amusement in it.

“Yu Dai’s general manager of China is over there. I’ll introduce you to him,” Ding Kai suddenly said.

Wang Xi was quite surprised at the suggestion but became instinctively cautious afterwards.

Yu Dai is a well-known international brand, and only top-tier superstars or the new generation’s popular stars manage to establish connections with such a brand. Ran Lin’s current status was somewhat far from reaching this level.

“Relax,” Ding Kai said, not even glancing at Ran Lin but smiling at Wang Xi. “I won’t be asking for any referral fee from you.”

Wang Xi was surprised by Ding Kai’s frankness, which essentially meant—I am purely doing a good deed, with no ulterior motives for you.

With the conversation at this point, it wouldn’t be good for her to deny his face. “Then we thank you, President Ding.”

Ding Kai nodded and turned towards the general manager of Yu Dai.

Wang Xi gave Ran Lin a look, about to speak, but he spoke first. “I understand.”

One does not slap a smiling face, especially when someone is offering help without asking for anything in return. Ran Lin didn’t like Ding Kai, but he wasn’t ungrateful. If Ding Kai really had ill intentions, there would be many ways and means to do so without going out of his way to introduce him to a major brand.

Soon, Wang Xi and Ran Lin joined Ding Kai, who naturally introduced them to the general manager of Yu Dai’s China branch.

It was evident that Ding Kai had a good relationship with the manager. Instead of platitudes, he expressed regret while introducing Ran Lin. “Last year, I had a project that could have worked with him, but due to some unfortunate circumstances, it didn’t happen. Looking back, it’s quite a pity.”

With a few words, he turned a formal introduction into a casual meeting of friends. The manager, not familiar with Ran Lin, became curious after Ding Kai’s introduction and chatted quite a bit with Ran Lin, not just about his personal endeavors but also about fashion and brand topics, until the manager was called away by other friends.

Ding Kai didn’t mind and went on to introduce Wang Xi and Ran Lin to some of his other friends, all of whom were brand executives.

Even if Wang Xi was slow to catch on, she now realized that Ding Kai wasn’t just messing around; he was genuinely trying to help.

From all the introductions made by Ding Kai that evening, if she had tried her best, she might have managed to make connections with one or two of them.

After making the rounds, before Wang Xi could offer any polite words of thanks, Ding Kai was called away. Watching him mingling eagerly with others from afar, Wang Xi muttered to Ran Lin, “What do you think he’s up to?”

Ran Lin didn’t answer, as his attention wasn’t really on Wang Xi but was rather drawn to a corner of the venue—when they passed by earlier, he had spotted an acquaintance.

“What are you thinking about?” Wang Xi asked, lightly tapping her artist.

Ran Lin shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Now that you’re finally free,” the editor, who was close to Wang Xi, approached them, “come with me quickly, or our editor-in-chief will disappear again.”

The editor-in-chief she referred to was the new head of XX publication, who had just taken the position last month. Wang Xi hadn’t had the chance to meet them yet.

It’s better to make first-time connections with magazine editors without the artists; otherwise, it seems more like discussing work. So Wang Xi said to Ran Lin, “I’ll go over there for a bit. Don’t wander off.”

“Don’t worry,” Ran Lin said, feeling a bit like he was being treated as a child.

As he watched his agent and her friend leave, Ran Lin took a piece of pastry to a quiet corner with an empty sofa and paired it with his champagne.

He was getting hungry and realized that socializing was quite draining.

After quickly finishing his snack, Ran Lin wiped his mouth and looked again in the direction where he had spotted the “acquaintance”. From his current position, he couldn’t see clearly due to the crowd, but he still tried to look through, as if he didn’t need to physically see, just looking in that direction would allow him to see through all obstacles and discern the other’s face.

“Are you looking for me?” A familiar voice with a light laugh suddenly came from behind.

Even though it had been a long time since they had seen each other and hadn’t been in contact, Ran Lin could immediately recognize the voice.

Before Ran Lin could turn around, the person had already sat down opposite him.

The last time they met was for the audition of <Mint Green>. He hadn’t had the time to look closely just now, but now Ran Lin noticed Zhang Beichen had lost a lot of weight. Despite the dim lighting, the fatigue on his face was evident.

“Long time no see.” Ran Lin heard himself say.

“Yes.” Zhang Beichen smiled faintly. “I always seem to miss your gatherings.”

Ran Lin was at a loss for words.

There was never a definitive point when he and Zhang Beichen’s relationship clearly broke down, just a gradual distancing on his part, which Zhang Beichen never addressed. Over time, it led to their current estrangement.

He felt Zhang Beichen owed him many explanations, but then again, maybe from Zhang Beichen’s perspective, there was no obligation to provide them.

“Are you so reluctant to talk to me now?” Zhang Beichen’s smile faded, turning slightly bitter. “Are you still upset about <Mint Green>?”

Ran Lin instinctively wanted to deny it.

Indeed, he had been upset when <Mint Green> was snatched away, but the competition was never the breaking point of their relationship. If anything, it was the earlier “paparazzi incident”, where Zhang Beichen shifted the scandal from himself to Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao. At that time, Ran Lin considered him a friend and was deeply hurt by the truth.

Yet, Zhang Beichen never directly addressed the incident.

Ran Lin wasn’t even sure if Zhang Beichen was aware of his role in the whole affair. If he was, how could he act so nonchalantly to this day? If he wasn’t, had Ran Lin wrongfully accused him?

In comparison, the fact that <Mint Green> was snatched away didn’t seem so hard to accept. After all, it’s “competition,” where everyone relies on their own skills. Even if the role was taken away at the last moment, and even if certain tactics were used, it’s within an understandable range. The only thing that saddened him was that if it were a friend who did it, they should have at least told him, even if it’s just a heads-up saying, “I’m going to snatch it,” or some cursory consolation afterward.

But there was none of that.

As Xia Xinran once said, for Zhang Beichen, “career” always seemed to take precedence over “relationships”, whether it’s love or friendship. Those always looking towards the peak won’t notice the flowers and grass they tread on.

Taking a deep breath, Ran Lin decided to lay everything out. Since Zhang Beichen preferred silence, he would make it clear, like lancing an inflamed wound to let the pus drain and heal. “Actually…”

“Actually, you should thank me,” Zhang Beichen almost said simultaneously.

Ran Lin’s words were choked back, and in his confusion, he could only repeat what the other had said, “…Thank you?”

“Yes.” Zhang Beichen shrugged. “If I hadn’t taken <Mint Green>, how could you have the schedule to act in <Chronicles of Winter>? <Chronicles of Winter> is much bigger in investment than <Mint Green>.”

“……” Ran Lin was dumbfounded by this twisted logic, finding himself at a loss for words.

Zhang Beichen brought his glass of wine to his lips, took a sip, and then gently placed it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. The deep, rich red of his drink contrasted starkly with the clear, pale gold in Ran Lin’s glass.

“But there’s one thing I really admire about you,” Zhang Beichen said, looking up at Ran Lin with a smile that had lost its bitterness, leaving only a trace of coldness. “You didn’t get to act in <Mint Green>, but you managed to win over the investors. Isn’t that a case of a thief making off with a good haul?”

Ran Lin’s eyes widened, not just at Zhang Beichen’s harshness but also at his conclusion.

“Glaring at me won’t help.” Zhang Beichen laughed, though his eyes didn’t share in the mirth. “Everyone saw Ding Kai escorting you around the party…”

As he spoke, he leaned forward, his eyes ambiguously close, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You might as well have had a ‘Private Property’ label on you.”

Ran Lin just looked at him, suddenly not wanting to say anything.

There might have been misunderstandings, mishaps, and helplessness between them, but that’s just how it was. They couldn’t be friends, and perhaps… they never could have been.

“Lao Qin has poor taste.” A male voice suddenly floated over.

Both men looked up. Before they could see clearly, the newcomer had already seated himself on another of the empty armchairs.

Three armchairs were arranged around the table, each equally spaced, maintaining a uniform distance between each person without any sense of closeness or distance.

But the dynamics of presence were different.

Ding Kai narrowed his eyes, glancing at Zhang Beichen with a hint of disdain, and shook his head slightly. “I should have a talk with him sometime. Taste also represents a person’s quality, and low quality is laughable.”

Zhang Beichen’s previous bravado vanished in front of Ran Lin, his face alternating between red and white, until he finally stood up and said, “President Ding, I won’t disturb your conversation.”

As Ding Kai watched Zhang Beichen make a hasty retreat, he smiled and looked down at the table. “He forgot to take his wine.”

Ran Lin didn’t care about the wine; his mind was bombarded by the mention of “Lao Qin” and he forgot all about courtesy, directly asking Ding Kai, “Who is this ‘Lao Qin’ you¹ just mentioned?”

Ding Kai looked at him with interest, asking softly, “Not using pleasantries¹ anymore?”

¹Clarity: Ran Lin switched to the informal you [ni] (你). He was previously using [nin] (您) which is a polite and respectful way to say “you”.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “You added me on WeChat with an alias, and we’ve talked about life and aspirations. Any more politeness would be fake.”

Ding Kai raised an eyebrow. Their only real interaction was at that dinner, and subsequent idle chats on WeChat didn’t count, nor did their brief encounter a few days ago. Today was their second formal meeting. But Ran Lin seemed different to him, more confident and willing to express his personality—he was more lively and charming than before.

“President Ding?” Ran Lin, seeing Ding Kai lost in thought, was a bit embarrassed. He had only spoken the truth; surely it wasn’t that shocking. And considering how Ding Kai was willing to introduce him and Wang Xi to those brand executives, this person didn’t seem to hold grudges, matching his behavior of giving Ran Lin a fair competition for <Mint Green>. The persona seemed consistent.

So Ran Lin figured that the president must have gotten distracted by something else.

Drawn back by the call, Ding Kai focused and said, “You’re asking about Lao Qin? He’s my friend, a very good friend.”

Ran Lin nodded, understanding, and didn’t press further about Lao Qin’s full name or company. He just wanted to know the answer to the second question.

“The second question…” Ding Kai drawled and, after a moment, tossed him out. “You should be able to guess.”

Ran Lin felt a surge of frustration, like waiting for a lottery draw only for the last number to get stuck. But as Ding Kai said, it wasn’t hard to guess. Zhang Beichen’s hasty departure and everything said already made it clear. Ran Lin didn’t want to believe it, but he couldn’t think of any other explanation.

Wait.

He’s my friend, a very good friend…

Ran Lin felt like he had heard this description from Ding Kai before, a deliberate emphasis on friendship…

With a sudden realization, Ran Lin looked at Ding Kai in surprise. “<Mint Green>?”

Ding Kai showed a satisfied smile. “You’re still as smart as ever.”

A chill ran down Ran Lin’s spine.

Ding Kai’s nostalgic tone sounded not like they had met two days ago but like old school friends reuniting after many years.

But right now, Ding Kai wasn’t the focus.

The focus was Zhang Beichen.

Ran Lin had thought of many possibilities when <Mint Green> was snatched away, but never this one. Male actors being kept by male bosses isn’t unheard of in the industry, but when it happens to someone you know, it feels entirely different.

And Zhang Beichen, with every word dripping with venom and harshness, was in a terrible state, thin and haggard, almost unrecognizable from the jovial youth he once knew.

“How long have they been together?” Ran Lin wondered and asked, then immediately realized it might be inappropriate and added, “If you’re comfortable telling me.”

“It’s no inconvenience, as long as you don’t go leaking stuff to the paparazzi,” Ding Kai said nonchalantly, sipping his drink. “Lao Qin can handle it, but it’ll still be annoying.”

“You’ve already told me the most important part, and now you’re telling me to keep it secret when I ask how long?” Ran Lin found Ding Kai’s priorities hard to grasp.

Ding Kai chuckled. “Consider it locking the barn after the sheep have fled, applicable to the previous part as well.”

Talking to this person was too exhausting. Ran Lin considered just dropping it, especially since the exact duration of their relationship wasn’t important…

“About two years,” Ding Kai said casually, then something seemed to occur to him, and he looked at Ran Lin. “Oh right, it was around the time you landed <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. Around then.”

Ran Lin didn’t want to ask why Ding Kai was so familiar with his career timeline, feeling intuitively that it wouldn’t be a pleasant topic. However, he felt a sinking feeling at the mention that Zhang Beichen had been with Lao Qin around the same time.

It wasn’t like he had snatched the role from Zhang Beichen, but he did beat him in competition for it. Could Zhang Beichen have harbored resentment since then? If so, why not say it directly instead of congratulating him when he reached out? Ran Lin didn’t need Zhang Beichen’s congratulations; he wanted honesty between friends.

Like when Lu Yiyao insisted on befriending him, nearly baring his soul, that kind of honesty was almost irresistible to him.

He didn’t expect Zhang Beichen to go to the lengths of Lu Yiyao, nor could he himself reach that extent. But others like Xia Xinran and Gu Jie didn’t need to constantly be open with him, yet they still became good friends.

His phone suddenly vibrated, breaking his train of thought.

He pulled it out and saw the caller ID, his face flashing with surprise, before he quickly answered, “Hello?”

“Don’t talk. Turn around,” Lu Yiyao’s voice was very low and serious.

Ran Lin startled, quickly did as told, and then saw his partner in the crowd about ten meters away.

To others, Lu Yiyao might have been lost in the crowd, but to Ran Lin, his partner stood out vividly, as if highlighted with a fluorescent pen.

“I was waiting for you to turn around on your own, but you were too engrossed in your conversation,” Lu Yiyao paused, then added in a slightly sulky murmur, “especially with Ding Kai.”

Ran Lin now understood why Lu Yiyao didn’t want him to speak. He didn’t know what to say.

The person who was supposed to be in Shanghai suddenly showing up at the party, not explaining how he got there, first being jealous—it left Ran Lin unsure whether to be speechless or sympathetic.

“I was at the airport waiting for my flight when I texted you. I came straight here after landing.” As if reading Ran Lin’s mind, Lu Yiyao explained.

Ran Lin finally understood.

While he was stuck in evening traffic, his partner was zooming through the sky.

Lu Yiyao, watching his partner’s dumbfounded expression from afar, hung up the phone, satisfied.

Although the surprise didn’t unfold as planned, the effect was good. And for him, seeing Ran Lin today was a surprise; he had thought they wouldn’t meet again until visiting the set of Lantern Blossoms.

Ran Lin turned back to face Ding Kai.

The latter tilted his head slightly, waiting for an explanation or statement.

Ran Lin smiled and said, “My agent is looking for me.”

Ding Kai pointed to Wang Xi, who was busy chatting nearby. “She’s over there. Doesn’t seem like she was on the phone.”

Ran Lin was caught off guard.

Ding Kai, seeing Ran Lin’s flustered expression, was pleased and finally waved him off. “I’m just teasing you. Go ahead.”

Ran Lin mentally imagined stretching Ding Kai like dough into a long strip and frying him, finding some relief in the sizzling thought. He then left the venue with a light step—first making a round to the restroom, then meeting his partner, to make it less obvious.

Ding Kai watched Ran Lin leave the hall, curious about who was waiting outside or who was on the other side of that phone call, but he wasn’t the type to stoop to following. He preferred to let things be, believing what’s his will be his, and what’s not won’t be, without leaving regrets.

If only Lao Qin could see things as clearly as he did.

Ding Kai sighed almost imperceptibly, finished the last of his drink, and stared at the empty glass, lost in thought.

If Ran Lin had left two minutes later, he might have said more, because he could tell Ran Lin was quite concerned about Zhang Beichen. His inquiries about Lao Qin seemed less like gossip and more like concern for a friend. Although Ding Kai felt it wasn’t worth it for someone who presumed the worst of him.

Lao Qin was generous with his “companions”, willing to pave the way for them and secure good resources as long as they behaved. But one thing about Lao Qin was his bad habits in bed, which were almost unbearable for many. The longest one lasted just over a year with him, and Zhang Beichen’s endurance for two years surprised Ding Kai.

But it should be over by now. Zhang Beichen’s current state was visibly bad. From Ran Lin’s perspective, it might just look like weariness, but to someone who knew more, it was clear Zhang Beichen was emotionally unstable, and continuing on this path was risky.

Ding Kai pondered whether he should find an opportunity to remind Lao Qin to let go when it’s time.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

You know, Ding Kai seems quite sensible. He’s not vindictive of being turned down by Ran Lin, but I get the apprehension. He’s definitely a snake but compared to other villain bosses in other showbiz novels I’ve read, he’s quite alright.

He gave Ran Lin a fair chance despite the rejection. He didn’t defend Ran Lin when his friend stepped in, but weighing the pros and cons, him souring a good business relationship isn’t worthwhile (considering Ran Lin isn’t anything to him). Though had he defended Ran Lin, he probably could have snatched some brownie points.

I mean I’ll take him. Me whenever he’s mentioned: this.

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 85

This was the first time Lu Yiyao discussed his life direction with friends in the industry—not family, lovers, childhood friends, or agents, but friends from the entertainment circle.

Though he was reserved about parts involving Ran Lin, he was open about his own transformation, overall career thoughts, and future plans.

He never thought this day would come.

He didn’t even deliberately socialize with Xia Xinran or Gu Jie, but when he looked back, everything had happened naturally.

As fellow artists, Xia Xinran and Gu Jie had a different perspective from family and agents, even different from Huo Yuntao, who worried about his future. But these two…

Xia Xinran: “To transform is to become a boss. I’m envious…”

Gu Jie: “If you like it, go for it. It’s rare to live life once. Follow your feelings!”

Lu Yiyao felt relaxed and somehow lighter.

He was aware of the risks and challenges ahead, but sometimes he needed such blunt encouragement to “boldly move forward”.

“Ran Lin, when does your contract end?” Xia Xinran, after expressing his envy, got to thinking.

“End of next June,” Ran Lin replied honestly.

Xia Xinran nodded, warning him. “From my bitter experience, the company won’t let you go easily. You need to prepare early.”

Just as Ran Lin was about to reassure him, Lu Yiyao’s phone rang.

The three fell silent, watching as Lu Yiyao answered, smiling naturally after seeing the caller, then stood up to head to the corridor. “I’ll take this call.”

As Lu Yiyao left, the private room door closed again. Gu Jie shrugged and continued eating, but Xia Xinran raised an eyebrow at Ran Lin—?

Ran Lin slightly shook his head, indicating he was also clueless.

In the hallway, Lu Yiyao, standing under a wall painting, replaced his smile with surprise: “You’re here too?”

“Yeah.” His sister’s voice was soft and sweet on the phone. “I’m at a girls’ gathering, and I heard someone say they saw a guy who looks just like you, so I called to check.”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled; he hadn’t left the private room since they started eating. Where was there a chance to “be seen”?

But then he thought maybe he was spotted entering the place. He was used to being recognized, so it wasn’t strange.

“Brother, is Xia Xinran there too? My friends said they saw him.” His sister used strategy A while speaking of B, a typical Lu Yimeng tactic, especially when her brother wasn’t suspicious, making it an effective smokescreen.

Sure enough, Lu Yiyao followed her lead. “Do you like him?”

Lu Yimeng replied almost without thinking, “I really like him!”

Lu Yiyao wondered if he’d been neglecting his sister. Otherwise, how could he have missed this?

“Brother, don’t misunderstand; it’s just a fan’s adoration for their idol, not asking you to introduce me to a boyfriend.” Seeing her brother’s silence, Lu Yimeng quickly reassured him.

Lu Yiyao was embarrassed; he hadn’t even considered that.

Lu Yimeng didn’t give her brother much time to think, lest her ruse be uncovered. After reassurance, she cooed, “Brother, is it crowded there? If it’s just a friends’ gathering, can I come over for a few minutes? Just me. I promise to be good. Just a few words with my idol, get an autograph, then I’ll leave!”

Lu Yiyao hesitated.

He was always unconditionally doting on his sister, but his friends weren’t obliged to entertain this. He had to consider their feelings. “I’ll ask for you. If Xia Xinran agrees, I’ll let you come over, okay?”

Lu Yimeng understood her brother’s thoughts and didn’t push further. “Then you better speak well of me…”

After hanging up, Lu Yimeng sighed in relief, her heart still pounding with the thrill of a childhood mischief.

But she meant no harm; she just really wanted to see the one her brother liked up close, chat a little, even if it was about nothing important, so next time her brother came home, she wouldn’t have to lie on the floor eavesdropping—it was really hard!

Lu Yiyao returned to the private room, and all eyes turned to him. The third pair of eyes was a few seconds slower but also looked over after putting down the chopsticks.

“My sister.” Lu Yiyao got straight to the point.

Ran Lin understood instantly, getting why Lu Yiyao smiled when he saw the caller—among the many labels on his lover, “sister spoiler” was a prominent one.

Xia Xinran and Gu Jie were more surprised. “Your sister?”

Lu Yiyao felt the uniform questioning sounded odd but elaborated anyway. “Yes, same father, same mother, my sister.”

Lu Yiyao’s candid demeanor dispelled Xia Xinran’s surprise, leaving only curiosity. “Does your sister look like you?”

Speak of the devil.

Lu Yiyao moved to the empty seat next to Xia Xinran, without hesitation sitting down, smiling. “Want to see for yourself?”

Xia Xinran, startled, instinctively scooted towards Gu Jie. “Teacher Lu, you’re giving off a ‘no good intentions’ vibe right now…”

Lu Yiyao laughed, no longer teasing, and got serious. “My sister and some friends are here too. She’s your fan and wants to meet you, say a few words, get an autograph. Just her, do you mind?”

“Your sister is my sister, bring her over!” Xia Xinran didn’t hesitate.

Lu Yiyao swallowed, observing his friend’s “curious” aura, unsure who the meeting was really for.

Gu Jie was purely excited for the upcoming spectacle.

Ran Lin, however, tensed up at the mention of Lu Yiyao’s sister coming over. The food in his mouth suddenly lost its flavor. He put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, subtly straightened his clothes, and checked his face and hair on the phone’s dim screen.

Lu Yiyao called his sister Lu Yimeng back, this time not avoiding everyone. Within two minutes, at most, after ending the call, there was a knock on the private room door.

Lu Yiyao immediately got up to open it, and soon a tall girl entered. By Lu Yiyao’s standards of attractiveness, the girl’s features might not be stunning, but she exuded a healthy, beautiful vibe, like someone who enjoys sports, full of positive energy.

“This is my sister, Lu Yimeng.” It was the first time Lu Yiyao was introducing his sister to his friends, a mix of novelty and nervousness in his demeanor. He hoped his sister would behave appropriately and not do anything outrageous.

“This is Xia Xinran, this is Gu Jie…” After introducing his sister, Lu Yiyao hurriedly introduced his friends. When it came to Ran Lin, he felt a subtle happiness, as if introducing his partner to his family. “And this is Ran Lin.”

Lu Yimeng greeted everyone with a bright smile, her gaze lingering on Gu Jie’s face for an extra second.

Gu Jie had dark, short hair, tanned skin, and muscles that were well-defined but not overly exaggerated, visible under his sleeveless vest. His camo pants and high-top military boots added a rugged charm to his already sturdy demeanor.

“So, I hear you’re my fan?” Xia Xinran spoke up, feeling the need to assert himself lest Gu Jie steal the spotlight, as the visit was supposed to be about him!

“Yes, I really like you!” Lu Yimeng said, decisively turning her attention back to Xia Xinran.

“Let’s all sit down and talk,” Lu Yiyao suggested, seating his sister next to Xia Xinran. Now, the seating arrangement around the six chairs was Gu Jie, Xia Xinran, Lu Yimeng, himself, Ran Lin, and one empty seat.

Xia Xinran felt something was off about Lu Yimeng, but when he asked what works of his she liked, she rattled off his entire acting career almost without taking a breath. Xia Xinran then felt ashamed for being overly suspicious.

Lu Yimeng, on the other hand, was taking a deep breath in relief inside, thankful that she had come prepared.

Xia Xinran was sitting next to Gu Jie, so as Lu Yimeng and Xia Xinran were talking, Gu Jie was also pulled into the conversation—

“I’ve seen <The Willow Mystery> and <Windless Desert>…”

These two works, one being Gu Jie’s breakthrough TV drama and the other his debut film, were extraordinarily significant to him.

Gu Jie didn’t expect Xia Xinran’s fans to pay such close attention to him, and he said gently, “Have you seen them all?” Xia Xinran rolled his eyes internally, realizing he still preferred Gu Jie’s more abrupt and brusque demeanor, finding this sudden gentleness difficult to get used to.

“Yes, I’ve seen them and really liked them!” Lu Yimeng replied to Gu Jie, but her glance darted to her brother. As expected, surprise flashed in her brother’s eyes. Although it was only for a moment, he couldn’t escape her sharpness.

Unaware of the “fan’s” distraction, Gu Jie humbly chuckled, a bit embarrassed. “I was young then, not quite understanding the nuances of acting.”

Xia Xinran sullenly finished his now-cold tea, reminding himself that fans are fickle and not to take it personally.

Lu Yiyao, meanwhile, was still processing. He knew of Gu Jie’s TV drama but was unaware of the film, which wasn’t very famous. He was surprised his sister knew even about that. Was her true love Xia Xinran or Gu Jie?

Lu Yimeng withdrew her gaze from her brother, not needing to dwell further. The situation was clear: Xia Xinran and Ran Lin were completely unaware of their brother’s and Gu Jie’s relationship; otherwise, they wouldn’t be acting so naturally.

But…

Lu Yimeng glanced at Xia Xinran and Ran Lin again. One was stunningly beautiful and lively, the other pale and delicate, warm, and comforting. The latter was more her type, reminiscent of a boy she had liked during her school days.

So, how did her brother choose between the immortal-like Xia Xinran and the campus heartthrob Ran Lin to end up with the rugged Gu Jie? It felt like ignoring vanilla, mango, strawberry, and chocolate flavors to pick a chili-flavored ice cream…

Nevertheless, Lu Yimeng accepted reality and, to be fair, found Gu Jie to be a decent person, straightforward and simple, the kind who says what he thinks. Perhaps in the complex entertainment industry, such a character is more appealing.

The ding dong sound of a water droplet notification in the lively private room was easy to miss.

However, as the phone was on the table, Ran Lin immediately saw the screen light up and picked it up. It was a message from Lu Yiyao—[What do you think of my sister?]

Ran Lin stealthily glanced at Lu Yiyao, who was leisurely eating as if the message had nothing to do with him. He silently put the phone on silent mode before replying—[She’s cute.]

Once the message was sent, as expected, Lu Yiyao’s phone remained silent, the wily lover having already turned off the ringtone.

Lu Yiyao—[Let’s formally introduce you to her sometime.]

Ran Lin smiled at the new message—[Don’t we need to come out first?]

Lu Yiyao—[Come out and introduce you as a sister-in-law. Two birds with one stone.]

Ran Lin—[……]

Lu Yiyao—[😀]

Xia Xinran glanced at the two, still engrossed in their phones, wishing he could remind the girl engrossed in conversation with Gu Jie that her brother was openly flirting right in front of her. Was Gu Jie that captivating?

Lu Yimeng knew her visit was brief, as intended. She was well aware this was her brother’s dinner, and while a bit of charm was fine, overstaying would be awkward. So, after a satisfying chat with Gu Jie, she took out an antique paper fan for Xia Xinran to sign.

Comforted, Xia Xinran readily signed, glad the girl hadn’t forgotten she was a fan of his. Lu Yimeng, satisfied with the autograph, stood up to leave voluntarily. “Brother, I’ll go first. I don’t want to disturb you guys.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and stood up to see his sister off. At the door, Lu Yimeng turned back for a long, unguarded look at Gu Jie, her gaze clear with understanding—Don’t worry, I understand everything.

Gu Jie received the fleeting glance of his friend’s younger sister but failed to decode it—Huh?

Lu Yimeng left the private room with her brother, unaware of the confusion on Gu Jie’s face.

Xia Xinran, however, deciphered his sister’s look, which clearly conveyed, “From today on, if I’m going to be a fan of anyone, it’s going to be you.”

As the door of the private room closed, Xia Xinran, with a gloomy face, sought arbitration from a bystander. “Ran Lin, Gu Jie is stealing my fans…”

Outside the room in the corridor, Lu Yiyao smiled and patted Lu Yimeng’s head, saying, “Are you satisfied now?”

Lu Yimeng nodded vigorously, sincerely saying, “They are all very nice.”

Lu Yiyao felt a vague sense of pride. “My friends, of course, are not bad…”

As someone approached in the hallway, Lu Yiyao’s intended words, “Which private room are you and your friends in? Should I come over to say hello?” were swallowed up. He naturally pulled Lu Yimeng closer to make way in the middle of the corridor.

Having moved Lu Yimeng next to him, Lu Yiyao looked up, only to recognize the familiar figure approaching. A man in his late thirties, handsome, tall, dressed casually but with a business-like flair, in black casual pants and a light-colored shirt with rolled-up sleeves, and a modest but expensive watch on his wrist.

Ding Kai!

Lu Yiyao’s eyes narrowed quickly as he finally matched the odd familiarity with the information in his brain. He had never met Ding Kai in person, but after hearing about this harasser from Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao made a point of looking up this person’s information, including a photo, and memorizing it like a script in his mind.

He couldn’t say he’d recognize him turned to ash, but at least in such an unexpected encounter, he would not mistake him.

Ding Kai felt like the man standing at the door of the private room two meters ahead seemed to be staring at him. He hadn’t noticed at first, but the other’s gaze was too intense to ignore. So he also looked up, curious to clarify.

But when he recognized the other, Ding Kai was surprised… If he wasn’t mistaken, this was Lu Yiyao?

Ding Kai had never collaborated with Lu Yiyao, but they were in the same circle, and Lu Yiyao’s striking handsomeness was hard to forget. It wasn’t strange for Ding Kai to recognize Lu Yiyao, but for Lu Yiyao to recognize him was quite rare.

No, if Lu Yiyao did recognize him, shouldn’t he be more cordial? What was with the obvious “dislike”?

Just as Ding Kai was about to pass Lu Yiyao, the door to the private room suddenly opened, and then Ding Kai heard a familiar voice—

“Lu Yiyao, your sister forgot her phone…”

Lu Yiyao, Lu Yimeng, and Ding Kai—all six eyes and three gazes shot over simultaneously.

Ran Lin was holding Lu Yimeng’s phone, frozen at the door.

The moment he opened the door and found Lu Yiyao and Lu Yimeng hadn’t left, Ran Lin was almost joyfully vocal, but now, the situation seemed… a bit off.

Wait.

Looking over the shoulders of his lover and future sister-in-law, Ran Lin widened his eyes in surprise; he seemed to see… Ding Kai?!

Ding Kai was also confused. Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao in a private room… together? And with Lu Yiyao’s sister?

“What a coincidence, to meet here.” Ding Kai greeted Ran Lin, ignoring Lu Yiyao and Lu Yimeng.

Once addressed, Ran Lin could only politely smile. “President Ding.”

With the door ajar, Ding Kai could vaguely see others inside and asked, “A gathering with friends?”

Ran Lin nodded, then remembered why he had come out in the first place, quickly handing over the phone. “Mengmeng, here’s your phone.”

This “nickname” was what Lu Yimeng had everyone call her, as they were all close friends of her older brother, making it too formal to use her full name.

“Thank you.” Lu Yimeng took the phone, smiling in gratitude, avoiding further conversation as she clearly felt the atmosphere was a bit tense.

“Brother, I’ll head back first,” Lu Yimeng said, not familiar with this President Ding but understanding that he must be an industry connection. As an outsider, it was inappropriate for her to linger.

Lu Yiyao nodded, not forgetting to remind his sister, who turned any drink into a weapon of mass destruction. “No alcohol.”

“Don’t worry.” Lu Yimeng rolled her eyes at him, waved goodbye to Ran Lin, and then hurried off.

The three men left standing at the door were silent.

In fact, if Ding Kai had just greeted and walked away, the situation wouldn’t have been so awkward, but now it was Ding Kai himself standing there, seriously sizing up the two male artists, neither of whom felt right saying, “What are you looking at?”

“Why are you two standing at the door?” a friend’s loud voice came from inside.

Ding Kai paused and blurted out. “Gu Jie?”

“Lu Yiyao, are you calling me?” Gu Jie was already curious and stepped forward. “What’s going on—”

As Gu Jie arrived, the door was wide open, and then he froze. “President Ding?”

Still sitting inside, Xia Xinran suspected the doorframe of the private room had a strong magnetic field; otherwise, why were his three brothers all stuck there motionless?

“What are you doing here?” Gu Jie, never one for awkward silences, directly asked.

Ding Kai regained his composure, smiling politely. “Just came to eat with friends.”

“Oh.” Gu Jie casually draped his arm over Ran Lin’s shoulder. “Us too, a rare chance to have a meal together.”

Ding Kai’s gaze swiftly moved between Gu Jie, Ran Lin, Gu Jie’s arm, and Ran Lin’s shoulder, then confirmed there was nothing suspicious between the two.

After confirming, he felt a bit foolish.

Gu Jie had acted in two films his company invested in; they were somewhat acquainted. If Gu Jie was gay, then there were no straight men left in the world.

Ding Kai didn’t continue the small talk or ask Gu Jie to introduce everyone inside to him. Chance encounters outside of work weren’t his preference. “Enjoy your gathering. I won’t disturb you.” With that, his gaze swept over Ran Lin one last time before leaving.

Gu Jie, confused, shrugged his shoulders and turned back nonchalantly.

Lu Yiyao leaned closer to Ran Lin and whispered, “Do you think he figured out our relationship?”

Ran Lin was taken aback. “Are you afraid he did?”

Lu Yiyao gritted his teeth. “I’m afraid he didn’t.”

……

The gathering continued until 2 a.m., and as the four men left the club, Lu Yiyao keenly noticed paparazzi—not just one but a whole car of them.

This club always had paparazzi stationed around, which wasn’t usually a big deal, but the idling engine made it clear they were prepared to follow, which was annoying.

The four huddled together to discuss—

Xia Xinran: “Who are they following?”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t be sure.”

Gu Jie: “Shouldn’t be me, right?”

Ran Lin: “We’re just having a meal, there’s nothing much to capture.”

“It’s not about whether they capture anything problematic.” Xia Xinran frowned. “It’s annoying to be followed, and I feel super unsafe thinking they’ll follow me right to my doorstep.”

“Why not just shake them off then?” Gu Jie didn’t see it as a problem.

Xia Xinran rolled his eyes. “Easier said than done. Their car is even slicker than mine. Not entering F1 would be a waste of their talent.”

Being followed by paparazzi is a part of celebrity life, so while it wasn’t unbearable, it certainly wasn’t a pleasant end to an otherwise enjoyable evening.

Gu Jie looked up at the car. Through the windshield, he could almost see the driver’s smug “what are you going to do about it” eyes. After a moment’s thought, Gu Jie cracked his knuckles and asked, “Want to get a little exercise?”

Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao remained silent.

Xia Xinran hesitantly said, “It’s not advisable to resort to violence.”

“…” Gu Jie felt like he’d be working out the “understanding” issue with these three forever.

After a three-minute secretive discussion, Gu Jie suddenly got into the driver’s seat, and the other three quickly followed—Xia Xinran in the passenger seat, Ran Lin, and Lu Yiyao in the back.

In less than five seconds, Gu Jie started the engine and sped off! The paparazzi van, surprised to see all four celebrities in one car, didn’t have to worry about who to follow anymore and set off after them.

“Buckle up!” Gu Jie reminded as he merged onto the main road.

Xia Xinran had a bad feeling and warned, “Speeding over 50% leads to an immediate 12-point deduction and retraining, you know…”

“Speeding? Violating traffic rules? I never do such things,” Gu Jie scoffed. “Hold tight—”

Xia Xinran felt immense pressure, as if he were about to be launched into space. Lu Yiyao, on the other hand, was excited about the impending thrill, gripping the car window’s upper handle with one hand and embracing Ran Lin with the other. “We’re ready.”

The streets were empty at midnight, making the accelerating engine sound particularly clear.

Gu Jie indeed didn’t speed, always staying just at the edge, and they drove out of the sixth ring road like that.

It’s unknown at which ring the paparazzi lost them or if they got lost outside the sixth ring, but the four had a thrilling ride, and by the time Gu Jie dropped each of them off, dawn was breaking.

……

However, by evening, the paparazzi dutifully posted their stakeout results on Weibo—

[One Net Entertainment Studio: Brotherhood reunion, dodging reporters, the four-man group speeding! [Video Link] Yesterday, reporters spotted Lu Yiyao, Xia Xinran, Gu Jie, and Ran Lin at a certain club for dinner. At 2 a.m., as they left, they seemed to notice the reporters, and all entered Gu Jie’s car, which eventually drove out of the sixth ring, disappearing into the night… [Read more]]

Within five minutes of posting, the studio retweeted with a note—

[Friendly reminder, midnight drives are dangerous. Please choose areas with good mobile signal in case you get lost and need GPS navigation [Don’t ask me how I know.jpg] // @One Net Entertainment Studio: Brotherhood reunion, dodging reporters, the four-man group speeding! [Video Link]…]

The entertainment studio led the narrative, making the topic quite hot. The video didn’t capture much except for their arrival at the club and later departure. The rest was just following, following, until… they were lost.

Ran Lin felt a bit sorry seeing the end.

Comments were unanimously in the “haha” vein; there wasn’t any big news, so the focus was on the studio’s cute blunder. The studio deliberately cultivated this quirky image, hence the obvious repost of the friendly reminder.

Apart from that, many expressed envy of their friendship, especially since “National First Love Drifting Story” had been over for two years. In two years, the entertainment industry could change dramatically, but the relationships formed during the show had only deepened, which was a beautiful thing for fans who had been genuinely invested in the show.

But there was always a question whenever there was news of the “Drifting Team” reunion.

[Why is it always the four of you in the news of a Drifting Team reunion? What about Zhang Beichen?]

[Didn’t everyone get along well during the show? Why is Zhang Beichen never at these gatherings?]

[It’s so obvious you’re excluding Zhang Beichen. Even a passerby like me can’t stand it 🤷]

[Just watch the show. Do you really believe what’s shown? Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao collaborated on Fallen Flowers, and with Gu Jie on <Dyeing Fire>, so now they’re showing off their friendship.]

[And the one above, how cynical are you? Just because they collaborated on projects means they have to show off friendship? What about Xia Xinran? What has he filmed with these three?]

[I don’t understand why everyone says they’re excluding Zhang Beichen. If everyone doesn’t want to hang out with you, shouldn’t you reflect on yourself?]

[I can’t stand it. Wherever there’s a group, there’s this hugging and excluding. If you’ve been bullied at school, should you also reflect on yourself?]

The initial curiosity eventually devolved into online arguments.

That’s the nature of online gossip; no matter the news, discussions can easily turn into debates.

Moreover, some bored gossip marketers started to set the rhythm, with almost identical Weibo content—[Again one of five missing. Why is it always Zhang Beichen? Digging deep into the love and hate of the National First Love… [Read more]]

It was simply ridiculous.

Someone maliciously tagged Zhang Beichen in a mocking comment. Following the tag, Ran Lin clicked into Zhang Beichen’s page and discovered he had posted twice today: one for event promotion and one a street snap.

In the street snap, Zhang Beichen wore a retro plaid shirt and shorts, with round sunglasses perched on his nose, slightly lowered to reveal mischievous eyes peering at the camera as if interacting with someone off-picture, creating a youthful and interesting look.

However, the text accompanying the photo was distant and indifferent, suggesting a calmness in watching clouds roll and unfold. [Joy follows the solitary clouds. My heart disappears with the returning birds.]

The timing of this Weibo post almost coincided with when the entertainment studio released their gathering post, so Ran Lin couldn’t be sure if this was a response, a simple expression of mood, or perhaps the post was managed by Zhang Beichen’s publicity team and had nothing to do with him personally.

Yet, many of his fans beneath the post preferred to believe it was their idol’s response—

[Not forming cliques, not putting on a show, I just like this natural side of you.]

[Your level is so much higher than theirs ❤️]

[So handsome, I want the same glasses! 🤩]

[Have you guys noticed how blatantly Ran Lin is clinging to the others for fame? From Drifting Story to collaborating with Lu Yiyao in Falling Flowers, now with Gu Jie in a movie, I’m afraid he’ll leech off my idol next 😡]

[I’m a fan of both Beibei and Ran Lin, and the comments here are so complicated 😞]

[Some fans really overdo it, right? Gathering means forming cliques. Not gathering means being excluded. Can’t they just have their own lives?]

[Hope Beibei fans don’t disparage other artists. Let’s just focus on our own 😘]

Logging off Weibo, Ran Lin slumped into the sofa.

He hadn’t contacted Zhang Beichen for quite a while, but he couldn’t even remember how long it had been. Life gets busy, and it’s easy to neglect things until they suddenly resurface, leaving only melancholy.

……

“Tomorrow is the XX program interview. The day after tomorrow you have two event appearances, and the day after that is a fashion gathering for XX publication, with top executives from well-known brands attending. It’s a rare opportunity. After that…”

“Stop.” Zhang Beichen interrupted his agent with an impatient glance. “You’re spouting off so much. Who can remember all that? Just tell me what to do, and I’ll cooperate.”

Wu Xuefeng frowned but held his tongue.

Ever since Zhang Beichen landed <Mint Green> by some miracle, his temper had been worsening. Of course, the artist’s character was never that great to begin with, but Wu Xuefeng could tell that the current changes stemmed not from his innate personality but from external pressures. He didn’t know what deal Zhang Beichen had struck with President Qin or what had happened, but since President Qin helped him secure <Mint Green>, his mood had been deteriorating.

Especially noticeable in the last half-year, this state caused him to miss out on a great opportunity—another movie project lined up by President Qin following <Mint Green>, with stronger ties to the financiers. However, due to Zhang Beichen’s poor audition, they still said no; after all, investments need returns. They can be low, but not so low that even the principal isn’t safe.

President Qin was furious about this, but whether they argued or fought, Wu Xuefeng didn’t know—Zhang Beichen wouldn’t say, and President Qin had no obligation to inform him. What was evident was that since then, President Qin hadn’t found any more resources for Zhang Beichen. For half a year, Wu Xuefeng was almost single-handedly scrambling to find opportunities for him, feeling almost no different than before Zhang Beichen’s association with President Qin.

No, Wu Xuefeng thought it was worse than before. At least back then, Zhang Beichen was stable, not as capricious as now. As a result, Zhang Beichen’s career nearly stalled in the last half year. Despite a full schedule, his appearances were of little value, further exacerbating his negative state, creating a vicious cycle.

Wu Xuefeng now hoped for two things. First, that President Qin would quickly break ties with Zhang Beichen. Since there were no more resources coming his way, and there seemed no chance of a revival of their past intimacy—or perhaps they were never that close to begin with—it was better to let go sooner than later. Ideally, they should part peacefully; harboring a grudge would only lead to future suppression. Second, that <Mint Green>, releasing early next year, would be a box office and critical hit. Zhang Beichen was clearly on a downward trajectory, and whether he could reignite his career depended on this film.

In the late-night airport VIP lounge, only Wu Xuefeng, calculating in his mind, and Zhang Beichen, scrolling through his phone, were present.

They were like two separate worlds, not paying attention to each other.

Outside the window, the runway had been quiet for a long time, with no planes taking off or landing, creating a haunting silence.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 84

The buzzing of the clippers, like a lawnmower, neatly and uniformly trimmed the hair wherever they passed, leaving it short and orderly like a well-maintained lawn.

The hairstylist’s wrist was flexible, producing a naturally curved buzz cut. However, it was indeed very short, clinging to the scalp and revealing the round shape of the head without any place to hide.

Fortunately, Ran Lin’s good looks could still hold up under it.

In the mirror, the youth didn’t seem gloomy or like he had just come out of prison. Instead, when not making a sullen expression or simply smiling broadly, he resembled a good student in his rebellious phase, finally letting loose and rebelling.

“Looks good!” Jiang Yi had thought the shave would be disastrous, but upon seeing the finished result, she found that Ran Lin still looked refined. The haircut diminished his usual gentle vibe, replacing it with a hint of roguish charm, seemingly harmless yet likely to flash a mischievous grin when you’re not looking.

“Having good looks means being willful,” Gu Jie, who had been watching the whole process, commented wryly.

Only Ran Lin could pull off nearly being bald and still manage to look stylish; if it were Gu Jie, he mused, people would probably clutch their children and retreat indoors at the sight of him.

In late July in Wuhan, the heat was oppressive, like being in a steamer. The makeup area was a semi-open space, and even without direct sunlight, the temperature remained high.

Ran Lin had hoped shaving his head this short would be cooler, recalling the last time he did so in ninth grade as a pledge of dedication after poor final exam results. Then, it was winter, and stepping out of the barber shop without a hat, his head felt frozen solid. It took a long walk home and a long while indoors to feel like his head belonged to him again, making a woolen cap his best friend that winter.

However, the current heat was so intense that as the hair fell to the ground, he didn’t feel any cooler.

As the hairstylist finished sweeping up the cut hair, Ran Lin couldn’t help but reach up and touch his head, feeling the prickly stubble, a ticklish and curious sensation.

Gu Jie and Jiang Yi joined in, each taking their turn to feel his newly shorn head, satisfying their curiosity.

In the midst of a tight schedule, stealing half an hour of leisure was rare, but today the pace slowed for the entire crew because Jiang Yi was wrapping up.

Her joining the crew was like divine intervention; since then, the shooting schedule sped up as if on turbocharge, with her time with the crew only until July 25^th.

Today was July 24^th.

If not for wanting to see Ran Lin’s “kiwi head”, Jiang Yi could have caught an early flight back.

But since she was wrapping a day earlier than scheduled, she had half a day to enjoy the buzz, and the crew took the opportunity to throw her a small farewell party.

Coming to the rescue like a firefighter, Jiang Yi arrived with courage and left with grace.

After the farewell party that afternoon, Jiang Yi departed, and the crew resumed work. From now until the final wrap, it was all about Di Jiangtao’s scattered scenes right after his release from prison.

Almost all the delayed progress had been caught up during Jiang Yi’s 40-odd days of intense effort, marking a rare early wrap at six o’clock for the day.

Back at the hotel, Ran Lin immediately posted a selfie on Weibo. In the photo, he was bare faced, sporting the buzz cut, with a slightly mischievous look and a light smile hinting at defiance. The caption read, [Saving on shampoo now 🐰.]

Ever since the Qi Luoluo incident, Ran Lin’s Weibo had been buzzing with activity.

After showering, the comments were too numerous to keep up with—

[Burning Noodles Can Really Burn: The text is soft and cute, the selfie is seductively evil, the style is so inconsistent it kills people with OCD! 😟]

[Sad Donkey: With such a trendy hairstyle, shouldn’t we change the bunny emoji for this one 😎 to match…]

[Pear Blossom with Snow: Ahhh I really like the new hairstyle [Dead.jpg]]

[Huangfu Bai: What exactly did you go through? Having good looks doesn’t mean you can be this wild 😂]

[Lin’s Family Burning Noodles: Looking forward to <Dyeing Fire> more and more! 😀]

[Rising Burning Noodles: Just to inform, Ran Lin is currently filming a new movie in Wuhan, and this hairstyle is required by the script 🐰.]

[My Ran Lin Is the Best in the World: Want to touch.]

Ran Lin logged out of Weibo and messaged his lover, who had wrapped up shooting and returned to Beijing a few days ago. “How are you resting at home?”

……

In Beijing, Fan Li’s house.

Lu Yiyao lay in the bathtub, eyes closed in relaxation, the massage mode stirring the water, relaxing his back muscles in the streaming jets.

His body was in the tub, but his mind lingered on the selfie of his lover he’d seen just ten minutes ago.

He had intended to take a bath, but right before leaving the room, a casual scroll brought up that selfie. Ran Lin had never mentioned cutting his hair so short for the role, so when Lu Yiyao first saw the photo, he was a bit stunned.

After a moment, he recognized the person in the selfie as his lover, suspecting the surprise was meant to shock him.

But the more he looked, the more he liked it.

Now he just hoped Ran Lin’s hair wouldn’t grow back too quickly, so when his lover returned after wrapping up, he could still touch, kiss, and rub against it.

Ran Lin, with a buzz cut, exuded a cute sexiness.

After admiring for ten minutes, Lu Yiyao finally put his phone on charge and proceeded to his bath. He figured Ran Lin had probably just returned to the hotel, so he planned to video call him later.

The drama Lu Yiyao had just finished was his last one, and now he was only committed to a few endorsements. Some were expiring at the end of the year, others the next year, all of which he intended to fulfill naturally. For the few endorsements that were only halfway through, Yao Hong was already negotiating the termination fees. Thankfully, their ongoing good relationship with the brands meant that while surprised—since it’s more common to talk about renewals than terminations—they didn’t demand exorbitant fees for breaking the contracts. It was smoother than expected, with a couple of brands already considering Ran Lin as a possible replacement at Yao Hong’s suggestion.

But Lu Yiyao didn’t share these thoughts with Ran Lin.

Everyone has their own battles to fight. He would do his part and Ran Lin would do his; no need for many words, as a day of victory would eventually come when they’d meet again.

Turning off the massage mode and letting the water calm, Lu Yiyao slid down until he was fully submerged in water.

From the day he entered the entertainment industry, his world had always been noisy, but at this moment, under the warm water, he felt his heart and the world quiet down together.

Outside the door, eavesdropping ears were at work.

Lu Yimeng lay on the floor, sticking her buttocks out, enduring the soreness in her waist and legs, but she didn’t hear any suspicious conversation from the bathroom. Instead, the housekeeper passed by twice, her gaze growing increasingly complex, not understanding why a perfectly good girl would want to eavesdrop on her brother taking a bath.

It was a rare occasion for big brother to come home, and Lu Yimeng was frustrated at not uncovering any juicy information.

Suddenly, her wandering eyes seemed to hit upon an idea, and with a whoosh, she sprang up and silently ran towards her brother’s bedroom.

Lu Yiyao’s bedroom door wasn’t locked; he didn’t think to guard against his own sister. Firstly, his and Ran Lin’s communication always began cautiously before diving into content, and secondly, he was completely unaware of his sister’s suspicion. Being cautious outside, he naturally relaxed at home.

He didn’t know that his sharp sister had seen through everything… well, of course, with some minor inaccuracies.

Lu Yimeng successfully entered her brother’s bedroom and immediately saw the phone charging on the bedside table. She wanted to celebrate with fireworks!

She dashed over in three quick strides, her cheerful steps making no sound on the soft carpet.

As if sensing her entry, when she was just a step away from the bedside table, the phone suddenly lit up with a “ding dong” notification sound.

Lu Yimeng’s spirits lifted, and she pounced over, eyes wide, carefully reading the new WeChat message:

[Airport Superfan: How are you resting at home?]

Lu Yimeng crouched beside the bedside table, staring at this mysterious message, her brows deeply furrowed.

Airport Superfan… What in the world is that!

The screen soon dimmed again, and Lu Yimeng hurriedly picked it up and tried to light it up, but she couldn’t unlock it without the passcode.

In her twenty-something years of life, she never imagined her first phone snooping wouldn’t be to check on a cheating boyfriend but rather to see if her own brother needed to come out of the closet. The irony was not lost on her.

What made it worse was that she couldn’t get into the phone.

She tried all the four-digit combinations she could think of: brother’s birthday, dad’s birthday, mom’s birthday, her own birthday, the last four digits of the ID card, the last four digits of the phone number, brother’s debut day… After about ten minutes of trying everything she could think of, she got nowhere.

And during this time, the so-called “Airport Superfan” didn’t send any new messages.

Lu Yimeng sighed in despair and reluctantly placed her brother’s phone back on the charger, stealthily exiting the room as if she had never been there.

……

Lu Yiyao emerged from the bathroom at 7:40 p.m. The housekeeper offered to heat up dinner for him, but he declined, making a simple sandwich with two slices of toast before returning to his room.

“Today I went back to my mom’s place. Just got out of the shower and feeling revived. Where are you?” Lu Yiyao munched on the sandwich while sending a voice message to his lover.

“Hotel.” Came the quick reply.

Lu Yiyao finished his sandwich in a few bites and found his Bluetooth headset in the bedside drawer. After putting it on, he sent a video call invitation.

As the video connected, Lu Yiyao was still swallowing the last of his sandwich, his cheeks slightly puffed, his usual cool demeanor compromised by his eating, especially after seeing Ran Lin, which made him chew even faster.

Ran Lin had intended to surprise Lu Yiyao but ended up making him laugh instead. “Sneaking some food, huh?”

Lu Yiyao took a big gulp of water to wash it down before responding, “Sandwich.”

Ran Lin frowned. “That’s all you’re eating at home?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “Low oil, low calories.”

Ran Lin looked at him for a couple of seconds before saying, “Aren’t you not planning to take any more roles? Why still so strict?”

“Not taking roles doesn’t mean I can let myself go,” Lu Yiyao said. “Otherwise, what if you one day find me unattractive and leave me for someone else?”

Ran Lin glared through the screen. “Am I that superficial?”

Lu Yiyao considered seriously for a moment and nodded. “Kind of.”

Ran Lin was speechless. “……”

“Don’t move,” Lu Yiyao suddenly said in a low voice. “Let me see your hair.”

Ran Lin thought it was finally time to get to the main topic and sat up straight, playfully asking, “Cool, right?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t respond, just softened his gaze and stared intently.

Ran Lin expected Lu Yiyao to be shocked, but now felt he might be the one getting startled. “Say something.”

“How does it feel?” Lu Yiyao asked softly.

Ran Lin didn’t catch on. “Huh?”

Lu Yiyao moved the phone closer, murmuring. “What does it feel like when you touch it?”

Ran Lin frowned, feeling the question was a bit odd, but he instinctively raised his hand to touch his head again, feeling the same as earlier in the day. “A bit prickly.”

Lu Yiyao nodded slightly, then squinted his eyes, seemingly in a trance or satisfaction.

Ran Lin swallowed, feeling as if an invisible hand was touching his head…

Ran Lin got a jolt from his own imagination, grateful that <Dyeing Fire> would be wrapping soon, as long-distance relationships were making them both a bit peculiar.

“Jiang Yi wrapped today.” To steer the conversation away from an uncontrollable abyss, Ran Lin cleared his throat.

Lu Yiyao frowned, obviously not too pleased to be interrupted from his reverie, but after a moment of thought, he realized it was good news. “With her wrap, the whole film must be close to finishing, right?”

“Yeah,” Ran Lin said. “According to the current schedule, the entire film should wrap on August 8^th.”

August 8th was only half a month away, and Ran Lin’s <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> was scheduled to shoot right after. Thinking of this, Lu Yiyao became a bit uncertain. “So will you be coming back to Beijing?”

“I will,” Ran Lin said without hesitation, then quickly remembered he hadn’t told Lu Yiyao about the delayed start of <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> and hurriedly added, “Xi Jie coordinated with them for me. I’ll join the crew in Hengdian on August 18th, so I have ten days off in between.”

Lu Yiyao finally felt at ease, his eyes and brows softening as he whispered, “Perfect. Xia Xinran has been nagging about meeting up once you guys are back. I’ll set up a tentative date with him tomorrow.”

“Xia Xinran is available?” Ran Lin was surprised.

Lu Yiyao explained, “He’s been quite unhappy with his company lately, stopped many activities, and is feeling quite stifled.”

Ran Lin, busy with his schedule, hadn’t been in touch with Xia Xinran and was unaware of the situation. “What’s going on?”

Lu Yiyao detailed, “His company wants to renew the contract, but the new offer is only a slight improvement on the original. Xia Xinran can’t accept it, wants to terminate, and talks have broken down.”

Ran Lin asked, “Are the terms that bad?”

Hearing Ran Lin’s question, Lu Yiyao realized his partner was completely unaware of the critical aspect. “Xia Xinran’s contract, the one he signed at his debut, is about to expire. It’s finally coming to an end, and the company has offered a new one that’s hardly different—just minor improvements in certain clauses. Isn’t that bad?”

Ran Lin was astonished. This wasn’t just bad; it was vampiric.

Xia Xinran debuted through a talent show, and contracts signed under such circumstances are usually like indentures: long-term and stringent. Ran Lin thought Xia Xinran would have renegotiated his contract by now, given his fame and leverage, but to persist until the contract’s end was unexpected!

Ran Lin shook his head in disbelief. “What is his company thinking? With Xia Xinran’s current popularity, they still expect to retain him with a talent show contract?”

“It’s probably just a negotiation tactic.” Lu Yiyao analyzed. “They think by offering an outrageous contract first, they’ll have more room to maneuver later. If they start with a generous contract and Xia Xinran isn’t satisfied, demanding even more, the company would be at a disadvantage.”

Ran Lin rolled his eyes. “If Xia Xinran were like that, he wouldn’t have stuck with his debut contract for so many years. With his popularity over the years, countless companies must have approached him, wanting to poach him. If he weren’t loyal, he would have left long ago.”

“This contract was a cold shock for Xia Xinran. I think he probably never even thought about leaving before this.” Lu Yiyao said, “So, I support him terminating the contract. After all these years, the company still doesn’t understand its own artist’s character. It’s not worth wasting emotions on.”

“Right.” Ran Lin firmly sided with his partner. “How is he doing now, mood-wise?”

Lu Yiyao responded, “He’s fine. He says he went out drinking all night with friends right after, cursing the company from night till dawn, and then warmly embraced the sunrise feeling completely refreshed.”

Ran Lin was bemused. “Yep, that’s his style.”

The two continued talking until almost eleven, then reluctantly said goodnight.

As Lu Yiyao took off his Bluetooth headset, his ears were a bit warm.

Fan Li hadn’t returned yet, and the entire villa was lit only by night lights, casting a dim, cool glow.

Lu Yimeng struggled to her feet, stretching her stiff muscles and criticizing her own silliness for eavesdropping for so long.

Throughout, her brother never mentioned the other person’s name, cleverly avoiding using the speakerphone. What made it even more infuriating was their lengthy discussion on “work”, starting from “Xia Xinran’s contract renewal” and branching into various aspects including acting techniques, public relations strategies, and how profound impressions from variety shows can affect an actor’s role-shaping. If not for occasionally switching to the love channel to whisper sweet nothings, she would have thought her brother was chatting with his agent…

Is this really how you do romance, brother?

But whether or not the name was mentioned didn’t matter to Lu Yimeng anymore. With all the gathered information—the actress just wrapped up, mutual friend Xia Xinran, and previous incidents—if the person wasn’t Gu Jie, it would be a real surprise.

Her eavesdropping today was just to understand more about Gu Jie, as public personas can be quite different from private ones. With her brother rarely home, her anxiety got the better of her.

Back in her room, Lu Yimeng filtered through all the “life talks” and finally picked out two useful snippets:

[She’s wrapped up, so your whole movie must be wrapping up soon, right?]

[Perfect, Xia Xinran has been nagging about meeting up once you guys are back. I’ll set up a tentative date with him tomorrow.]

Piecing it all together, the conclusion was clear—Gu Jie’s movie would soon wrap up, and once he’s back in Beijing, her brother and Xia Xinran are planning to meet up immediately!

……

On August 8^th, <Dyeing Fire> wrapped up.

On the day of the wrap, Wuhan experienced a downpour, breaking the continuous heatwave and bringing a refreshing coolness.

The movie was tough to shoot, and at the wrap party, the producer, now relieved of his stress, got emotional and even shed a few tears.

On August 9^th, Ran Lin returned to Beijing, first visiting Dreams Without Limits as per Xi Jie’s advice, reporting the shooting progress to the CEO, who happened to be there, and expressing his determination to do well in the upcoming <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms>.

The CEO, pleased with his dedicated artist, felt comforted. After Ran Lin left, he praised Wang Xi over the phone for managing such a sensible artist and mentioned Ran Lin’s contract expiring next June, suggesting they start discussing renewal.

When Wang Xi received this message, Ran Lin was sitting in her office. After hanging up, she closed the door and blinds before telling Ran Lin about the CEO’s praise.

Ran Lin was perplexed; he had just left five minutes ago, and the CEO was already commending him.

“But being too sensible can be troublesome.” Wang Xi sighed softly. “The CEO finally remembered to discuss renewal.”

“Finally?” Ran Lin didn’t understand her phrasing. There was still a year left; why did it feel like they had been waiting for a long time?

Wang Xi explained, “Your projects run until the end of November, and many appearances are scheduled until next year. If we don’t start talking about renewal now, the company won’t be able to book any more jobs for you.”

“But…” Ran Lin hesitated.

Wang Xi nodded, speaking softly. “I know you don’t want to renew. We talked about it before, but those were just intentions. Now it’s time to get into specifics.”

“How should we proceed?” Ran Lin asked.

Wang Xi replied, “I will help you delay the renewal discussion until the end of the year. You’re busy shooting <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> anyway and genuinely don’t have time to talk. Then, by the end of the year, even if we start negotiating with the company, such matters won’t be concluded quickly. By the time the company presents a concrete contract, it’ll probably be late February or early March next year. By then, your payment for <The Legend of Lantern Blossoms> will have been settled, and you can formally propose to terminate the contract. The company won’t have anything to hold you back. Just follow the contract terms.”

Ran Lin was stunned, not expecting Wang Xi to have considered his situation so thoroughly.

“What about after terminating? Have you decided whether to sign with another company or establish your own studio?” Wang Xi suddenly asked.

Ran Lin felt a stir in his heart but kept a neutral face, replying, “I’m leaning towards signing with another company.”

“Okay, then I’ll also help look out for suitable companies for you,” Wang Xi said.

Ran Lin blurted out, “No need…”

Wang Xi raised her eyebrows quizzically. “Hm?”

“I want to think about it more,” Ran Lin said vaguely. “I haven’t completely made up my mind yet.”

Wang Xi chuckled. “Worried I’ll be wasting my time?”

Ran Lin hesitated, then nodded.

Wang Xi smiled. “I’m your agent; it’s my job to worry for you.”

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty.

Thinking he was still pondering those things, Wang Xi continued, “Don’t worry, I’m not too busy right now. Even if I wanted to scout for you, I’d have to wait until <Chronicles of Winter> and <Dyeing Fire> are released next year. By then, companies interested in poaching you will be lining up. No need for me to search.”

With his agent saying so, Ran Lin felt somewhat excited for the next year.

The next day was sunny.

Ran Lin changed clothes eight times at home before finally putting together an outfit he was satisfied with. As he stepped out, the night was already falling, with the moon and sparse stars in the sky.

But he didn’t have much time to gaze at the stars because Gu Jie’s car was already waiting downstairs. He had barely taken a few steps out of his apartment before entering the car.

Gu Jie was still wearing his camouflage pants and T-shirt, but the colors were different from the last few times Ran Lin had seen them. Previously, they were mostly deep green, but this time they were yellow-green. Ran Lin suspected his friend’s collection of camouflage pants might cover all terrains, possibly even jungle and desert camo.

The two had just returned to Beijing on an early flight yesterday and didn’t need much in the way of pleasantries. So, as Gu Jie started the car, he said, “You should buy a car, too. It’s inconvenient to always take taxis when you’re not working.”

Had someone else said this, Ran Lin might have wondered if they were reluctant to pick him up. But with Gu Jie, he took it at face value.

After fastening his seatbelt, Ran Lin responded, “I thought about buying one last year but got too busy to follow through.”

Gu Jie looked ahead. “Oh, let me know when you decide to buy one. I can help.”

Ran Lin looked at him. “You can get a discount?”

Gu Jie, a bit flustered, replied, “No. I mean, I know quite a bit about cars.”

As they spoke, the car merged onto the main road.

Suddenly, a ding dong sound echoed twice in the car.

Ran Lin took out his phone to see a WeChat voice message from Xia Xinran saying, “I’m already here!”

The melodious voice of the beauty lingered in the car for a few seconds before fading.

Ran Lin grinned, remembering that Gu Jie was driving, and another ding dong likely meant a message on his phone too. He asked, “Do you need me to check it for you?”

“No need,” Gu Jie replied without hesitation. “It’s probably the same message as yours.”

“…That makes sense.” Ran Lin found himself at a loss for words.

The gathering had been planned since the beginning of the month, as the drama was nearing its end with no likelihood of further issues. Thus, Lu Yiyao and Xia Xinran had set the date for today.

Gu Jie had agreed immediately when Ran Lin asked, also offering a ride since his place in Beijing wasn’t too far from Ran Lin’s.

“We’re on our way.” Ran Lin sent a voice message back to Xia Xinran.

About ten minutes later, Xia Xinran sent another message. “Teacher Lu is also here, and he’s dressed up really handsome today.”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but smirk and glanced at Gu Jie, who was focused on driving. Clearing his throat, he said very formally, “No picture, no truth.”

Ding dong.

Xia Xinran’s speed in sending a stealth photo was lightning-fast.

Ran Lin opened the picture. Lu Yiyao was looking out at the yard lights through the window, his hair apparently freshly cut, a little shorter than in the video but looking more spirited. A small table lamp cast shadows on his side profile, accentuating his handsome features.

Ran Lin didn’t reply with a voice message but typed instead—[Tell him he looks handsome.]

Xia Xinran responded not with a voice message but with a playful GIF—[Go eat your dog food!.gif]

Ran Lin laughed silently, his eyes curving into smiles. After a while, he contentedly put his phone back in his pocket. When he looked up, he realized the car had stopped at a persistent red light not far away.

In the corner of his eye, he felt someone looking over.

Ran Lin tensed up instinctively and turned, meeting Gu Jie’s curious gaze.

“What are you chatting about, looking so happy?” Gu Jie had stopped for the long red light and, a bit bored, tried to strike up a conversation, only to see his friend seemingly bubbling with joy.

Ran Lin couldn’t bear to keep it from his friend any longer and took out his phone, showing Gu Jie the photo of Lu Yiyao that Xia Xinran had sent. “Xia Xinran just sent me this.”

Gu Jie’s eyes widened.

Ran Lin bit his lip.

“Lu Yiyao is also here?” As the light turned green, Gu Jie quickly shifted gears. “Then we better hurry!”

Ran Lin: “……”

Coming out is a very difficult thing, especially when friends are completely uncooperative.

The gathering place was chosen by Lu Yiyao, a private club favored by many in the industry for its discretion. Many business and personal gatherings occur there, and the frequent comings and goings of celebrities mean that their small group wouldn’t attract attention, especially for a casual gathering like theirs.

“Why are you both so early—?” Gu Jie pushed the door open, his voice entering before him.

Ran Lin followed Gu Jie, peering over his shoulder to see his lover.

Xia Xinran, catching the exchange of glances between Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, held his forehead, clearly overwhelmed by their style of romancing.

But what else can be done?

Even popular male and female artists have to hide their relationships, let alone the two of them.

That was also why Xia Xinran was willing to play the third wheel for these two friends—despite complaining, it was heartbreaking to see how hard they tried to keep it a secret.

“What’s with that expression?” Gu Jie sat down next to Xia Xinran, frowning at the other’s complicated expression. “You don’t welcome me?”

Xia Xinran sighed and smiled. “You’re mistaken; I’m just envious of you.”

Gu Jie was puzzled. “Envious of what?”

Xia Xinran: “Silly…”

Gu Jie: “Huh?”

Xia Xinran: “Nothing… No worries.”

“Learn more from me.” Gu Jie patted “Brother Xia’s” shoulder.

Xia Xinran rolled his eyes, no longer wanting to deal with him.

Ran Lin had already sat down next to Lu Yiyao. At a round table for six, four people would naturally sit close together, so it wasn’t odd.

Lu Yiyao’s hand moved under the table.

Ran Lin saw it and thought he would reach out and hold his. Instead, the next second, he saw Lu Yiyao’s hand lift.

Ran Lin was confused, but before she could speak, he felt a firm pat on his head.

It wasn’t just a pat but a back-and-forth stroke, causing his head to sway.

“It’s quite prickly.” Lu Yiyao smiled with amusement, feeling all the irritability from waiting, longing, and not being able to meet dissipate with the slight itchiness in his palm.

“That’s enough,” Ran Lin said, seeing his partner still not stopping after a sigh of sentimentality. “This is a head, not a ball.”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, his voice deep and pleasant.

Ran Lin grabbed his hand from his head and pressed it under the table. Before he could let go, he held it back.

Xia Xinran withdrew his gaze, resting his chin on his hand, feeling utterly defeated by the display of affection.

Gu Jie looked at Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao, who were gazing into each other’s eyes, then at Xia Xinran, who was staring at the ceiling, not quite understanding. “Aren’t you guys going to order food?”

As the dishes were served and drinks opened, the four clinked glasses, and the atmosphere gradually warmed up amid the crisp sounds.

To say it was warm wasn’t quite right; it was more carefree. Four people who barely see each other throughout the year, yet they talked and laughed like old friends, unconcerned and enjoying their food and drink.

After a few drinks, they started discussing Xia Xinran’s current contract issues. Xia Xinran was troubled and emphatically declared, “I won’t renew. Even if the terms were a mountain of gold and silver, I wouldn’t!”

Ran Lin could see, just as Lu Yiyao said, Xia Xinran had grown cold-hearted about it.

He asked, “So where will you go after you terminate your contract? Have you found another place?”

Xia Xinran smirked and shook his head.

“How about joining my company?” Lu Yiyao suddenly said.

Ran Lin was startled, instinctively looking at Lu Yiyao, almost thinking he had misheard—Are you serious?

Lu Yiyao’s lips curled up, and suddenly he scooped Ran Lin close with one arm, openly hugging him while addressing Xia Xinran. “Ran Lin has already agreed to join my company after his contract ends. How about you consider it?”

Xia Xinran was so shocked he dropped his chopsticks.

Even Gu Jie, usually oblivious, was stunned.

After a while, Xia Xinran incredulously asked, “You’re starting a company to sign artists?”

“And produce films and TV series,” Lu Yiyao added. “It’ll be officially registered by the end of the year.”

Xia Xinran: “What about your studio?”

Lu Yiyao: “It’ll merge into the company.”

Xia Xinran: “Can you manage it all?”

Lu Yiyao: “I’ll be a full-time boss, so I’ll manage.”

Xia Xinran: “…”

Watching Lu Yiyao happily hugging Ran Lin, Xia Xinran believed he was serious.

But…

“Teacher Lu, you’re successful as an artist and a reliable friend, but as a boss…” Xia Xinran spoke his mind. “I’m not very confident.”

“Don’t worry.” Lu Yiyao seemed to have anticipated this. “Wait till the company is set up by the end of the year. I’ll show you more detailed information.”

Ran Lin finally believed Lu Yiyao was serious about recruiting people.

His partner had already entered business mode. Though still in the artist’s seat, his mind had flown to the next stage.

The air conditioning in the private room was a bit cool, but Lu Yiyao’s body was warm.

Ran Lin, rarely having the chance to openly be close to his partner, let him hug him, looking like he was supporting the recruitment efforts of Boss Lu.

However, in the end, Xia Xinran still shook his head. “No.”

Lu Yiyao was a bit disappointed. “Why?”

Xia Xinran: “I’ll never be the First Brother in your company.”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Ran Lin laughed, breaking free from his partner’s embrace, and patted the shoulder of the disappointed Boss Lu as a consolation.

“Full-time boss?” Gu Jie suddenly slammed the table, shocked. “Teacher Lu, are you not planning to act anymore?!”

All three pairs of eyes turned to Gu Jie with complex expressions.

After a long silence—

Xia Xinran spoke for everyone. “Is the chair you’re sitting on in a different time zone from ours?”

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 83

After the secret spilled out, Gu Jie visibly relaxed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief as if unburdened. He ran a hand through his hair, his face still showing a hint of embarrassment. “Now you know why I was embarrassed to tell you, right?”

“……” Ran Lin truly didn’t know. At the moment, all his brain cells were occupied with trying to understand the complex familial ties that have been passed down through the centuries in Chinese culture.

Seeing Ran Lin silent, Gu Jie grew more anxious. “Actually…”

“Hold on,” Ran Lin interrupted him. “Give me two more minutes, just two.”

Gu Jie closed his mouth and waited earnestly.

Two minutes later…

“Alright.” Ran Lin looked at his friend, surrendering. “Director He is your relative.”

Gu Jie didn’t understand why it took his friend a full two minutes to grasp such an obvious fact. Nonetheless, adhering to the principle of full disclosure, he added details, “Yes, he’s the husband of the third daughter from the family of my maternal grandmother’s second sister, which makes him my mom’s third cousin’s husband, my third cousin’s husband. But my grandma only had my mom as a child, and she grew up playing with the three kids from her second sister’s family, so our four families are still very close. I call him ‘third uncle’.”

“……” Ran Lin felt like his head was about to explode. He was nearly compelled to grab a pen and paper to meticulously arrange the vast Gu family tree according to seniority.

Gu Jie misinterpreted the conflicted expression on his friend’s face, thinking he was upset about the secrecy. He rushed to explain. “I didn’t mean to hide it from you. It’s just… talking about nepotism is quite embarrassing.”

Ran Lin was momentarily stunned, pulling himself back from the intricacies of the Gu family tree, then couldn’t help but find Gu Jie’s comment amusing. “You waited nearly a year for this movie, letting your capricious uncle tweak the script repeatedly, delaying the start date over and over. May I ask, is there any relative more genuine than you?”

Gu Jie thought about it, finding truth in his friend’s words. “That’s true. My aunt has mentioned it several times at dinner, saying if it’s possible to shoot, shoot; if not, let Gu Jie go do something else. Don’t delay my nephew from making money with uncertainty every day.”

Ran Lin could almost imagine the tone and presence of Gu Jie’s aunt from his recounting. “Your aunt really cares about you.”

Gu Jie smiled, feeling a deep sense of relief, as if he had just run five thousand meters. Then, he moved his chair forward, facing Ran Lin, and said, “No one in the circle knows about this. Keep it a secret for me as a friend.”

“Not as a friend.” Ran Lin looked at him squarely. “But as a brother.”

Gu Jie was visibly moved. After all the turmoil from the day before to now, it was only at this moment that he felt clear skies and a beautiful life again.

Ran Lin finally pieced together all the clues, like how Gu Jie and Director He seemed too familiar at their first meeting, or how Director He agreed to have a meal with him upon Gu Jie’s recommendation, and how Director He tried every way to make Qi Luoluo admit that Gu Jie didn’t harass her in the conversation… All these could be explained with “third uncle”.

So, Ran Lin decided that in the future, during important discussions, don’t gasp for breath. Gu Jie’s phrase “I’m saying he and I aren’t what you think, we’re not buddies,” had nearly sent him down a wildly speculative path.

“Speaking of which.” Ran Lin looked at his friend gratefully. “I’m actually the real beneficiary of nepotism here. If not for our connection, how would I have had the chance to join the crew?”

“It’s not that.” Gu Jie shook his head almost reflexively. “I strongly recommended you, sure, but what ultimately convinced him was you. Before going to dinner, he told me, it’s clear cut. If you’re suitable, you’re in; if not, you’re out. It’s about the work—no room for personal favors.”

Seeing Ran Lin still half-doubtful, Gu Jie decided to reveal all. “I had to audition for my role too.”

Ran Lin was surprised. “You had to audition?”

“Yes,” Gu Jie said matter-of-factly, but then he lowered his head again, murmuring, “But I had a fast track.”

Ran Lin: “Ah?”

Gu Jie: “I could audition first. If I fit the role, they wouldn’t need to look for anyone else.”

Ran Lin understood. That wasn’t a fast track; that was like early decision admission for college.

……

Beijing, Wang Xi’s house.

Wu Xia pushed her laptop away and grabbed the quick curry and rice meal her boss had just made for her, devouring it hungrily. Wang Xi, past the age where she could eat anything without gaining weight, could only watch enviously as the young publicist enjoyed her meal.

After a whole night of busy work, Wu Xia finally felt her stomach growl at the smell of curry. Now, with hot food in her belly, she felt comfortably content.

“Xi Jie, I understand what you meant now.” Almost done with her meal, Wu Xia slowed down her pace, took a couple of sips of hot water, and then suddenly said.

Wang Xi, who was half-heartedly browsing Weibo, looked up in confusion. “Hmm?”

Wu Xia said, “About Ran Lin being a rare animal that we need to protect.”

Wang Xi smiled. “You get it now?”

“Completely.” Wu Xia nodded vigorously. “If my friends stood up for me like that, I’d feel fearless even if the sky fell down.”

“Everyone wants friends like that.” Wang Xi sighed lightly. “But it’s not easy to actually be that person. No one expected Director He to have the foresight, so Ran Lin’s stepping up looked like it would end with both him and Gu Jie being criticized and slandered.”

“But Director He happened to record the video, so not only did Ran Lin not get criticized, but he also garnered a large fanbase. It feels like fate.” Wu Xia looked up at Wang Xi. “Xi Jie, have you heard that old saying?”

Wang Xi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Wu Xia spoke with emotion. “The good are bullied, but heaven doesn’t deceive*.”

*Proverb referring to how good-hearted individuals might get taken advantage of but will ultimately be protected or rewarded by moral order of the universe of a higher power. Basically, justice and truth will prevail, and those who are righteous and good will be vindicated.

…..

Tianjin, a certain hotel.

Lu Yiyao hung up the phone with her agent and finally felt relieved.

Qi Luoluo was beyond redemption now. She must be desperately trying to contact Gu Jie’s team, hoping they wouldn’t sue her.

Gu Jie and Ran Lin were both trending; their keywords, aside from clarifications and righteousness, were “owing an apology to the wronged”.

Lu Yiyao leaned back into the sofa, switching back to Weibo on her phone and continuing to check Ran Lin’s homepage with his alternate account—

[Three Visits with Compassion: With friends like these, what more could one ask for?]

[Gu Jie’s Biceps: This is what real brothers are like!]

[The Phoenix Flees, the River Flows: Idol, your presence is towering today!]

[Have You Eaten Your Burning Noodles Today: Are people with fairer skin more fiery when impassioned? 🤣]

[God of Postgraduate Entrance Exam, Bless Me: I became a fan because of Linghu Xiaodao, now oddly proud.]

[To be a Great Man in Life: I don’t agree with going under those ‘circle friends’ who didn’t speak up and mock them; maybe they’ve contacted Gu Jie privately, or maybe their relationship with Gu Jie isn’t as close as you think. In any case, speaking up or not is everyone’s freedom. So I’ll just continue to fiercely like Ran Lin’s posts—a real man!]

[Frozen Mandarin Ducks in Longjing Tea: Sorry, I’ve always been biased against you. You were clearly good in “Fallen Flowers”, and I said it was bad. Here, I sincerely apologize to you. Your fans are adorable too, Little Ran fans. Who came up with this name? 233333*]

*Slang for basically lol.

Lu Yiyao scrolled through each comment, sinking deeper into the sofa as he went, feeling at ease, relaxed, and a little self-satisfied with happiness.

His gaze lingered on the apology comment, and after a long moment, Lu Yimeng replied—

[My Ran Lin Is the Best in the World—Reply to @Frozen Mandarin Ducks in Longjing Tea: It’s from the quick Q&A session in the first episode of <National First Love Drifting Stories> at Guilin station. He chose it himself. As a fan, I also think this nickname is very cute ❤️ ❤️ ❤️.]

……

Beijing, Fan Li’s house.

Seeing the auntie head to the foyer to answer the door, Lu Yimeng sprung up from the sofa like a rabbit and scampered back to her room, covering herself with a blanket pretending to sleep.

But inevitably, two minutes later, the door was knocked.

Her mother, just back from a busy evening out, knocked on the door while mercilessly exposing her. “No point in hiding. The sound of you running upstairs was like an earthquake.”

Lu Yimeng sighed and, conceding, turned on the bedroom light and reluctantly opened the door for her mother.

“I’m your mother, not a debt collector. Why are you hiding from me?” Fan Li walked into Lu Yimeng’s room, still dressed in her evening gown from the social gathering, her face showing a hint of fatigue but her eyes as sharp as ever. “Don’t wait for me to ask. Speak up. What’s your brother urgently needing hotel surveillance for, especially from a place that has nothing to do with him?”

Lu Yimeng knew she couldn’t hide it from her mother, and even if she didn’t say it, her mother could easily find out by inquiring with the person who actually handled the matter. Her asking was just for convenience.

Although she was only involved in connecting her brother with the right people to get the video, and he hadn’t told her a word about the reasons, she wasn’t foolish. After observing Weibo all night, she understood everything. But facing her own mother, she could only provide a safe answer. “He has a friend in the entertainment industry who was falsely accused. They needed the hotel surveillance to prove their innocence.”

“A friend in the industry?” Fan Li frowned skeptically. “It’s not for his own sake but for a friend’s matter?”

“Yes.” Lu Yimeng hurriedly nodded. “It’s the one who he filmed a reality show with and recently visited in Wuhan.”

Having a true fan as a sister and a mother who always thought her son wasn’t grown-up enough, Lu Yimeng’s activities were never a secret at the Fan household.

Fan Li had some recollection of her son going to Wuhan as a “friendly visit” was a novelty for him, but who exactly he visited didn’t stick in her mind.

But now, for the same person, her son was coordinating an effort to retrieve surveillance footage from afar, which seemed intriguing.

If she remembered correctly, her usually reluctant son to use family connections last did so when someone slandered him for checking into a hotel room with a fellow actor from the same crew.

She could understand that, as it concerned his reputation, but this time it had nothing to do with him, and the urgency seemed unusual.

Fan Li understood her son well; he had only one friend he considered close, Huo Yuntao, in all these years in the entertainment industry. She had never seen him close to any colleagues. Fan Li always felt her son treated the entertainment industry as a workplace. Whether acquaintances or familiar faces, it was all about work. Coupled with her son’s inherently reserved nature, the sudden emergence of a “friend” who warranted a special visit and full-fledged assistance was worth noting.

“What’s that person’s name?” Fan Li was genuinely curious.

Lu Yimeng inwardly sighed, apologizing silently to her brother while honestly telling her mother, “Gu Jie.”

“Which Gu, which Jie?” Fan Li intended to clarify the name for future reference but changed her mind upon spotting the casually tossed phone by her daughter’s bed. “He’s an actor, right? Look him up on Baidu Baike for me.”

Lu Yimeng: “…”

Having a mother attuned to the information age could be quite vexing.

Obediently, Lu Yimeng searched Gu Jie’s information and handed it over for her mother’s inspection.

Fan Li wasn’t planning anything; like all overly concerned mothers worldwide, she just wanted to know as much as possible about her child’s activities and the friends they make.

Lu Yimeng leaned in as her mother scrolled down the screen, reviewing Gu Jie’s Baidu Baike once again with her.

Although not the first time, when she saw the line “He has loved sports since he was young and continues to keep fit, falling in love with free combat after shooting <Unyielding>,” her mood plummeted once more.

“What’s that expression?” Fan Li, who found nothing amiss in the information, caught the look of despair on her daughter’s face. “Is there something wrong with this person?”

“Nothing at all.” Lu Yimeng’s voice involuntarily rose. “Especially clean, very few scandals since debut, and all the colleagues he’s worked with praise him as a great person.”

If Fan Li had mind-reading skills, she would see Lu Yimeng was deliberately defensive.

But she didn’t.

And she certainly didn’t leap to the conclusion that her daughter was already fretting over future labels for Gu Jie—brother-in-law or sister-in-law; that’s the real question.

“It’s good to make more friends.” Fan Li handed back the phone. “Your brother might seem friendly to everyone, but he’s a bit cold at heart. Being an actor is one thing, but if he goes into business in the future, it’s better to have a warmer personality.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lu Yimeng nodded, as if profoundly influenced by her mother’s wisdom.

Fan Li smiled indulgently. “Get some rest early.”

Lu Yimeng watched her mother leave, and once the bedroom door closed again, she collapsed into the soft bed, finally breathing out a sigh of relief.

But one can only dodge the inevitable for so long.

Lu Yimeng lifted her phone, staring at the drenched fighting photo of Gu Jie in Baidu Baike, thinking, ‘I can only help you up to here. How you’ll get past Mom in the future is up to your fate.’

……

The next day in Wuhan was a bright, sunny day with radiant sunshine and not a cloud in sight. The intense summer sun was too strong, and Ran Lin was literally woken up by it, regretting not having drawn the thick curtains the night before.

However, the room wasn’t hot, as the air conditioning was diligently keeping the temperature at a comfortable 26°C. Ran Lin reached for his phone to find that it was only 7:30 in the morning.

No wonder his alarm hadn’t gone off, since they weren’t starting until 9:00 a.m.; he had set his first alarm for 7:40 and his last for 8:10… Wait, starting at 9:00? How are they starting without a female lead? No, wait, they do have a female lead…

Ran Lin suddenly realized that the “Qi Luoluo incident” last night had completely made him forget another matter entirely—Jiang Yi was coming today!

Since they agreed, Ran Lin hadn’t contacted Jiang Yi again. Trusting each other, he didn’t think she would change her mind, so all he had to do was wait for her arrival.

But her not changing her mind presupposed that their crew hadn’t encountered any last-minute hitches. Now, with the turmoil caused by Qi Luoluo, especially since the reversal of events last night was after 10:30 p.m., it’s conceivable that their crew was still in the center of public attention. And for a long time to come, <Dyeing Fire> would be tagged as a movie with lots of drama, likely to be dredged up again when the movie releases.

This has nothing to do with who’s right or wrong; in the public eye, all these events revolve around the movie <Dyeing Fire>. As an artist, joining the crew at this time, especially to replace the role originally meant for Qi Luoluo, would undoubtedly be a topic of discussion and attention, no matter who it is.

And it’s just a third female lead role, hardly worth so much sacrifice from Jiang Yi.

Ran Lin pondered for a moment, then called Liu Wanwan. As soon as the call connected, he asked directly, “Wanwan, can you give me the life production manager’s phone number?”

Liu Wanwan, who had been communicating with the life production manager, naturally complied. “What’s up, Ran Ge? Just tell me, and I’ll talk to the production manager.”

Ran Lin thought about it and decided it was just a simple question. “Ask if the car arranged to pick up Jiang Yi from the airport has left yet?”

“At this time, it should have left.” Liu Wanwan didn’t think too much, but after reflexively muttering, she promptly said, “Ran Ge, wait for me for half a minute. I’ll call right now!”

After hanging up, the phone rang almost immediately. Ran Lin picked it up to hear Liu Wanwan report, “Ran Ge, they’ve already left. They said after picking her up, they’ll head straight to the set. There should be no problem starting at 9.”

Evidently, the life production manager misunderstood his intention. But no matter, he just wanted to confirm whether Jiang Yi had changed her mind. After all, she wasn’t alone; she had a team, and it’s possible that her agent and the crew could communicate any changes.

Now it seemed Jiang Yi was coming as promised.

Ran Lin put down the phone, got up, stretched a big yawn, walked over, and drew open the curtains, letting the sunlight unabashedly bask over him.

Ding dong.

Suddenly, his phone chimed with a WeChat notification.

Ran Lin turned back, picked up his phone, and saw it was from the WeChat group of the <Dyeing Fire> crew. The scene recorder sent a message, no text, just an emoticon—a bouncing enthusiastic little head saying, [Ready for a hard-working day!.jpg]

……

Today’s scene wasn’t indoors, but a four-person scene by a small river outside the town—Jiang Xiaoxiao tracking the small shop owner Ying Feng got discovered. In the ensuing chase and fight, she falls into the water. Xiao Gu arrives shortly after and rescues Jiang Xiaoxiao as Ying Feng flees. Di Jiangtao, who had been hiding in the shadows the entire time, wanted to help Jiang Xiaoxiao but was too scared due to previous threats from Ying Feng. Internally, he struggles tremendously and ends up not stepping forward. As a result, after Xiao Gu rescues Jiang Xiaoxiao, he gives the cowardly Di Jiangtao a sound thrashing.

It’s one of several pivotal turning points in the movie where Ying Feng’s true nature is revealed, Jiang Xiaoxiao starts to develop feelings for Xiao Gu, and Di Jiangtao feels regret and shame for his cowardice for the first time, setting the stage for his later acts of bravery.

Taking on a water scene on the first day was quite a “tough” arrangement. But Ran Lin understood the director’s thoughts. Because this is a scene that heavily focuses on Jiang Xiaoxiao in the first half, both the emotional and physical demands are quite high. If she could perform well in such a challenging and nuanced scene right off the bat, then the rest of her scenes would be relatively easier.

In the current situation, as the director, He Guan didn’t have time to gradually test the waters; he had to start with a challenging scene right away.

Ran Lin arrived at the location at 8:30 a.m., and by then, the shooting site was already bustling. The riverside breeze did little against the scorching sun’s heat. Perhaps it was psychological, but Ran Lin felt everyone was bustling with an energy that rivaled today’s sunshine. Compared to the low spirits of the past few days, or even to the times when shooting went smoothly before Qi Luoluo joined, the current vibe was significantly more vigorous.

Temporary makeup stations with tables and chairs were set up, and as Ran Lin walked over, he coincidentally met Gu Jie coming out from makeup, looking surprised. “So early?”

Gu Jie stretched his shoulders and rotated his arms, finally cracking his knuckles. “I’m fully charged now, just waiting for the new partner.”

Ran Lin was amused, knowing what Gu Jie meant, but to the uninformed, it sounded like he was gearing up to give the new partner a good beating.

While Gu Jie arrived early, most actors arrived around the same time as Ran Lin. So just as he sat down to start makeup, Qiu Ming, who played the small shop owner, also arrived.

As soon as he sat down, Qiu Ming said, “Finally, we can work in peace.”

Ran Lin empathized with him; he represented the sentiments of the entire crew.

“We’re behind by over ten days,” Ran Lin sighed. “Looks like we’ll have to rush ahead now.”

“I’m not afraid of rushing work,” Qiu Ming said. “How many shoots are nine to five? It’s all about working overnight.”

Another makeup artist had come over. Qiu Ming straightened up, allowing the makeup artist to work on him, but still found time to say, “I was quite surprised Jiang Yi could come to act. How did you convince her? You didn’t deceive the young girl, did you?”

Qiu Ming, in his thirties, was still considered young in the entertainment industry. However, he saw those in their twenties, like Ran Lin and others, as younger brothers and sisters, hence his brotherly and affectionate tone.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh at the question. “Am I that type of person? I told her from the start it was a supporting role. She’s been wanting to act in modern films and is particularly keen to work with Director He, so I just helped to connect them.”

“Hopefully the issue with Qi Luoluo doesn’t affect her impression of our crew.” Qiu Ming sighed. “If today’s shooting goes well and she joins the team, I think we ought to give her a banner for ‘rescuing us in a time of crisis’.”

Ran Lin agreed. “Yeah, and it must be embroidered with gold threads.”

Important characters always make a dramatic entrance. As the set was ready and all actors and crew were in place, Ran Lin had been fanning his face with a small fan, just like Gu Jie, for over ten minutes. The car sent to pick up Jiang Yi finally arrived.

Jiang Yi wasn’t late—it was just 8:50. The nanny van stopped right next to the shooting location, and Jiang Yi, the “firefighter”, stepped out under the expectant gaze of the entire crew.

For a moment, there was silence on the set, broken only by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of cicadas.

Jiang Yi, dressed in denim shorts and a watermelon-red batwing shirt, wasn’t very tall but was proportionate. Her hair wasn’t long, gathered into a ponytail at the back of her head, resembling a rabbit’s tail in length. Her good features and smooth forehead made her look full of vitality. She wasn’t immediately stunning but rather enduringly charming, like the girl next door.

She had seriously studied the role. Ran Lin could tell, because this wasn’t the Jiang Yi he knew. The one bouncing towards them now was the character Jiang Xiaoxiao.

The rabbit tail on the back of her head playfully swayed with her steps, bringing a breeze of cool air.

“Director He.” Jiang Yi greeted the director first before turning to everyone else with a loud, “Hello, everyone.”

Most of the crew members returned her greeting with a smile, and some even responded loudly, creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. Everyone was waiting for the clapperboard to snap—the success of this new Jiang Xiaoxiao would be decided as soon as the shooting officially started.

After greeting everyone, Jiang Yi turned her attention back to Director He. She was here to save the day and knew what she needed to do. “Director, I’ve already done my makeup in the car. If you think it’s okay, I can start now.”

The makeup artist had gone with the van to pick up Jiang Yi, and the outfit she wore was also changed in the car, so there was no doubt about her appearance.

Therefore, Director He only asked her, “Don’t you need to look at the script again?”

“No need,” Jiang Yi replied. “I’ve memorized it.”

Director He nodded in satisfaction and settled back behind the monitor.

Five minutes later, as everyone was in place, all eyes were on the clapper loader—

“Dyeing Fire, Scene XX, Take 1…”

Click!

“Why are you following me!” Qiu Ming went to grab Jiang Yi’s arm without saying a word.

Jiang Yi struggled free and dashed off!

Qiu Ming, after a brief moment of surprise, chased after her.

The camera on the track moved along with them.

After a few steps, Jiang Yi’s foot suddenly slipped on the edge of the embankment, causing her to stumble!

“Cut, pass!”

With the director’s cue, Jiang Yi steadied herself—slipping was scripted, but she skillfully shifted her weight to avoid falling.

The crew’s tension eased—though the embankment was safeguarded for falls, nobody wanted the actress to get hurt before the necessary shots.

This scene was just the beginning.

Soon after, with the embankment set up and the clapperboard snapping again, Jiang Yi, as Jiang Xiaoxiao, rolled down the embankment into the water!

There was a splash—Jiang Xiaoxiao fell into the water.

The river wasn’t very clear, tainted with a green tinge from algae, deterring even the most enthusiastic wild swimmers.

But Jiang Yi didn’t hesitate as she plunged in.

After the director called cut, the crew quickly pulled Jiang Yi ashore. Thankfully, the weather was hot enough to mitigate the cold river water. Still, the sight of her, once so vibrant and now dripping and disheveled, was somewhat pitiable.

Everyone knew this was a “trial shoot”. If it went well, both the footage and the actress would be kept; if not, both would be discarded. It felt like a collective assessment of the actress, which seemed quite harsh.

Yet, Jiang Yi was unfazed, waving off the towel offered by her assistant and calling out from the riverbank. “Director, let’s continue while I’m still wet!”

From her perspective, she couldn’t see the crew on the bank, but Ran Lin could see clearly. Her words had completely relaxed the atmosphere.

Satisfied with the “new employee’s” request, the director continued.

Jiang Yi re-entered the water. As the clapperboard snapped shut, she struggled convincingly in the water.

“Jiang Xiaoxiao—”

From afar came Gu Jie’s call—her hero had arrived.

Hearing the sound, Jiang Yi, while gulping down water, shouted her lines for help. “Xiao Gu… save me…”

Her voice, drifting to Ran Lin outside the camera’s view, sounded increasingly ethereal and pitiable, almost making him want to jump in and save her himself.

Splash—

It wasn’t Ran Lin’s turn to act; Gu Jie dived in instead.

“Cut, pass!”

Ran Lin thought he heard excitement and elation in Director He’s voice.

Acting was like that; once the rhythm and synergy kicked in, both actors and directors could get caught up in the moment.

By 11:30 a.m., the scenes of Gu Jie heroically diving into the river to save Jiang Xiaoxiao and their subsequent dialogue on the bank were all shot.

The director looked up at Ran Lin. “Is the emotion okay?”

Understanding what the director was asking, Ran Lin took a deep breath and nodded earnestly.

Director He immediately directed the crew to prepare for the next scene. For the current <Dyeing Fire> crew, time was of the essence, and every moment counted.

As filming progressed, no one considered it a mere “trial shoot” anymore; it was a normal, busy, and tense workday. But thanks to the cooperation of all departments, the shoot was going smoothly, providing everyone with the motivation to keep going despite the fatigue.

“Dyeing Fire, Scene XX, Take 1…”

Click!

As the tail end of the clapperboard sound drifted away, Gu Jie’s fist came swinging in the wind.

Ran Lin didn’t dodge or fuss; he just stood there, taking it…

By 4 p.m., the shooting in the small woods wrapped up smoothly. The crew immediately packed up the equipment and headed to “Di Jiangtao’s home” to shoot indoor scenes.

Ran Lin and Liu Wanwan were invited by Jiang Yi to ride together in the same car, giving the two “old friends” who had cooperated all day a chance to talk.

“How did I do?” Without any outsiders around, Jiang Yi skipped the small talk and went straight to ask Ran Lin.

Jiang Yi was naturally lively, and perhaps she hadn’t completely left the role of Jiang Xiaoxiao yet, as her eyes sparkled with a “seeking praise” glimmer.

Ran Lin gave a thumbs up, generously praising. “Perfect.”

Relieved by her friend’s affirmation, Jiang Yi exhaled deeply. “To be honest, I wasn’t this nervous even when I auditioned for <Chronicles of Winter>.”

Ran Lin understood completely. “Because during <Chronicles of Winter> audition, you only faced the director and producer. For our drama, you had to go through the entire crew’s assessment.”

Jiang Yi was surprised by Ran Lin’s perceptiveness. “Could you tell I was nervous?”

“I couldn’t tell at all. Your performance was flawless.” Ran Lin chuckled. “But I can put myself in your shoes.”

“I think the atmosphere of your crew is really great. Everyone works hard for this drama, and there’s no mess,” Jiang Yi said, clearly still excited, and when she got excited, she became talkative. “Director He is also very nice, even better than I imagined.”

Ran Lin corrected her with a smile. “Not ‘your crew’, ‘our crew’.”

Jiang Yi paused, then nodded hurriedly. “Right, I passed the assessment.”

Ran Lin was surprised. “Someone informed you?”

“No need for notification,” Jiang Yi said proudly, spreading her hands. “I can see the love in everyone’s eyes.”

“Oh?” Ran Lin drew out the word. “Who was just telling me how nervous she was?”

Jiang Yi rolled her eyes at him, unamused.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh.

“What a great opportunity,” Jiang Yi suddenly murmured. “Qi Luoluo didn’t know how to cherish it.”

The sudden mention of the name stirred Ran Lin’s thoughts, and after a long ponder, he asked, “Did you see the fuss on Weibo last night?”

“How could I miss such drama,” Jiang Yi said. “Especially since it’s about the crew I’m about to join. No matter how laid-back I am, I have to follow the outcome.”

“Even though the outcome was good, taking over Qi Luoluo’s role will definitely stir up some talk,” Ran Lin said, wanting to give a friendly reminder.

Jiang Yi frowned in slight displeasure. “What do you mean I took over Qi Luoluo’s role? In my opinion, the role wasn’t hers to begin with; she was an interloper.”

Their habit of bantering from their last movie made Ran Lin instinctively want to argue. “Qi Luoluo, Jiang Xiaoxiao, how is it an interlope? Sounds like a good match*.”

*Clarity: Referring back to the meanings of their names and how their last & first names are basically opposites (opposed), which makes Qi Luoluo “fitting” to play Jiang Xiaoxiao.

“Please!” Jiang Yi retorted mercilessly. “The name doesn’t matter. What’s important is the surname. Jiang Xiaoxiao, right? The role should have the surname Jiang, so here I am, Jiang Yi, it’s destiny*.”

*Clarity: They are different Chinese characters but are homophones. Jiang (江) Yi, Jiang (姜) Xiaoxiao.

Ran Lin: “…”

Jiang Yi: “Any more questions?”

Ran Lin had none.

With an admiring nod, he faced his not-so-new partner, just like when they first met on the <Chronicles of Winter> set, extending his hand with a smile. “From today onwards, please advise.”

Jiang Yi shook the extended hand, smiling just like before. “Sure, sure.”

……

As the car drove along the bumpy country road, it didn’t prevent the actors inside from conversing—

Jiang Yi: “So what exactly is the ending of this play?”

Ran Lin: “Didn’t you get the script?”

Jiang Yi: “I did, but there was no ending. They said they’d give the ending after signing the contract.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Jiang Yi: “So why does Ying Feng want to harm Lao Zhang? And why, after discovering you were surveilling him, did he first try hard to eliminate his own suspicion, then later go all out to blacklist you too? Who do you really like, me or Xiao Gu?”

Ran Lin: “Lao Zhang is the one who set the fire that killed Ying Feng’s parents six years ago. Di Jiangtao was a witness back then, but he didn’t take it seriously. When the police asked, he carelessly gave a testimony that he didn’t know anything, and Lao Zhang got away with it. Then, not long after, he went to prison for robbery.”

Jiang Yi: “So Ying Feng targeted Lao Zhang for revenge?”

Ran Lin: “Right. And initially, he didn’t know Di Jiangtao was the witness who let Lao Zhang off. So when Di Jiangtao noticed he was watching Lao Zhang, he first tried to clear himself of suspicion…”

Jiang Yi: “But after realizing Di Jiangtao was the irresponsible witness, he wanted to take revenge on him too?”

Ran Lin: “Yeah.”

Jiang Yi: “That explains everything. So, who do you really like, Jiang Xiaoxiao or Xiao Gu?”

Ran Lin: “…I don’t have a romantic storyline in this drama!”

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 82

“The young man under the sun~~ Has your dream come true~~ In this cold world~~ Have you changed~”

Ran Lin had just clicked to share Gu Jie’s post and hadn’t yet managed to send it when his phone rang.

These days, since he wasn’t working, his phone was always in his hand, giving his lover a rare opportunity to call him directly without needing to send a probing text first.

“Hello?” Ran Lin’s voice echoed in the room, closed off and air-conditioned, as if it had a built-in reverb effect.

“Back at the hotel from your outing?” Lu Yiyao could tell from his voice.

Ran Lin had spoken to Lu Yiyao that morning, telling him he was planning to embrace the city with Gu Jie. His lover, well-versed in the art of disguise, had instructed him on various tricks to avoid being recognized without looking like a wrapped-up dumpling. Ran Lin didn’t find many of the tips practical but was sympathetic to his lover’s years of coping with fame.

“I had planned to go to the food street,” Ran Lin said, lying back in bed, sounding resigned. “But a call from the director brought us back.”

“Video call me.” As soon as Lu Yiyao said this, he hung up without waiting for a response.

Ran Lin, a bit flustered, had just exited to the home screen when a video call invitation popped up, filling the screen with a face. By now, he was used to his lover’s haphazard selfie angles.

“Did the director call you back?” Lu Yiyao picked up where they left off.

“More accurately, he called Gu Jie back.” Ran Lin sighed softly.

“Because of Qi Luoluo’s long post?”

“You saw it?”

“Yeah.”

Ran Lin looked at his lover on the screen with a mixture of feelings. “It seems like your crew really isn’t that busy…”

Lu Yiyao pulled back the phone, apparently placing it on a table, and said casually, “The actors are efficient, and the whole crew works well together, so we have plenty of time. We might even wrap up early.”

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes at him. “If you keep rubbing it in, we can’t keep dating.”

Lu Yiyao laughed, then asked with concern, “How is Gu Jie?”

Ran Lin shook his head. “He’s been with the director since he came back. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, his brow slightly furrowed in thought.

“I just got off the phone with Xi Jie,” Ran Lin continued, the frustration rising in his voice. “She says it’s hard to clear up this kind of murky situation. I don’t understand why it’s always the honest people who get screwed. Gu Jie is the most patient lead actor I’ve ever seen. You didn’t see Qi Luoluo at the set. When she NG’d, even the lighting and photography crew were exasperated, the director was about to lose it, but Gu Jie was still patient with her, doing it over and over…”

“Right.” Ran Lin’s eyes suddenly lit up. “We can release the NG footage. It’ll be clear whether Gu Jie bullied her!”

Lu Yiyao looked up and slowly shook his head. “What you can think of, her team has already considered. She never intended to go after Gu Jie for bullying her in the first place. The set is a public environment; if she was truly bullied, everyone would see it. Just one behind-the-scenes blooper reel from the director would debunk her claim. But if she insists Gu Jie harassed her, then even if the crew releases NG footage, she can claim it’s the crew whitewashing Gu Jie and the film. Plus, she can argue that the NG footage shows how Gu Jie was before he harassed her, being nice to her precisely so he could harass her later.”

“And she doesn’t even have to say that. 99% of the NG footage is from before she and Gu Jie acted together, because right after they started, it was Gu Jie who kept NG’ing, and then we went on location shooting. That night, Director He talked to her and terminated her contract.” Ran Lin felt disheartened again. “I thought we had found evidence to refute her.”

Lu Yiyao pondered for a moment, then suddenly asked, “Has Gu Jie told you in detail about what happened the night of the alleged harassment?”

“Actually, he did,” Ran Lin replied without hesitation. “He came out of Qi Luoluo’s room just as I was leaving mine. We met in the hallway and then went to dinner together. He poured out all his troubles to me.”

Lu Yiyao touched his fingers thoughtfully, then said, “Then tell me everything in detail.”

Ran Lin had complained to his lover about Qi Luoluo harassing Gu Jie as soon as it happened, but at that time, they didn’t anticipate the situation escalating to this level, so it was a brief mention.

Now that Lu Yiyao requested the full version, Ran Lin, although puzzled, knew his lover must have his reasons. Without hesitation, he recounted in detail what Gu Jie had told him that night, almost not missing any detail.

The night outside the window was inky black, and the room was lit only by a bedside lamp casting a limited glow.

Ran Lin got up, turned on all the lights in the room, and then sat cross-legged on the bed to tell the whole story to his lover.

Lu Yiyao listened intently, and by the end, he sat up straight in a serious and attentive posture.

“…That’s what happened.” Ran Lin’s throat was dry from talking, so he got up, placed his phone against the lamp, like Lu Yiyao, and opened a bottle of mineral water to drink.

“You said earlier,” Lu Yiyao watched his lover intently, “that Gu Jie didn’t close the door after entering?”

Ran Lin paused drinking, swallowed quickly, and nodded vigorously. “Right, Gu Jie felt it wasn’t appropriate to close the door when alone with her, so he left it open. It was only later, during the scene, that Qi Luoluo closed it herself.”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “But the hotel surveillance footage they released doesn’t show the door.”

Ran Lin rolled his eyes. “That’s because of the angle of the camera. It didn’t even show me, but actually, I came out before Gu Jie. I closed my door, then Gu Jie came out.”

Lu Yiyao: “How many cameras are there in the hallway?”

Ran Lin was stumped. “I didn’t notice…”

Before Lu Yiyao could respond, Ran Lin was already up. “I’ll go check right now!”

Sounds of hurried door opening and closing followed, and in a blink, Ran Lin was back in the video, his face alight with excitement. “Three, one at each end of the hallway and one in the middle.”

Lu Yiyao nodded, understanding what he had suspected.

The video released by Qi Luoluo showed the surveillance camera positioned near the elevator, capturing only sections of the corridor to the left and right. Thus, in its range, it could capture Qi Luoluo’s room on the left side but not Ran Lin’s room on the right side, which was further away and closer to the end of the corridor.

This indicated that the camera was closer to the middle of the corridor. If there were no blind spots intended, there should be cameras at both ends of the corridor as well.

The camera near Ran Lin’s room was irrelevant to the situation—even if it captured him leaving at the same time and eventually joining Gu Jie for a meal, it would be meaningless for the case.

However, the camera at the end of the corridor near Qi Luoluo’s room was different.

In the video released by Qi Luoluo, her room was already at the edge of the camera’s view. Due to distance and angle, plus the intentionally sped-up video, it was hard to notice if the door was closed or not. But if it was another camera at the end of the corridor, it would have a closer view of Qi Luoluo’s room and could capture clearer details.

Ran Lin realized Lu Yiyao’s intent upon seeing the three cameras. “Although NG videos can’t fundamentally solve the problem, if the hotel surveillance clearly shows that Gu Jie didn’t close the door, coupled with the NG footage, it could at least prevent public opinion from being completely one-sided.”

“Yes,” Lu Yiyao said. “And if Gu Jie’s agent can gather more evidence or manage the PR well, this crisis might not be insurmountable.”

It hadn’t been long since the incident occurred and Ran Lin hadn’t had time to think through these aspects. It was likely that the director and Gu Jie were also still in shock. Now reminded by Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin immediately stood up. “I’ll go to the hotel for the surveillance footage right now.”

Before Lu Yiyao could respond, Ran Lin suddenly sat back down. “Almost forgot, I should repost first. Otherwise, I’ll forget once I get busy.”

“Repost Gu Jie’s Weibo?” Lu Yiyao asked, his voice lifting subtly with emotion.

Ran Lin initially planned to inform Lu Yiyao and then end the video to repost on Weibo. His question made Ran Lin reflexively wary. “Do you think it’s rash for me to repost his Weibo and take a stand in this storm?”

“What do you want in your heart? Do you want to publicly support him?” Lu Yiyao counter-asked, his voice still calm and collected.

Ran Lin took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, firmly saying, “I don’t want to just publicly support him. I want to jump in and fight for him!”

Lu Yiyao’s eyebrows rose in surprise at the first part of the statement, but he smiled when he heard the rest.

“Then go for it. Public support or fighting, follow your heart.”

“Xi Jie will kill me.” Ran Lin could almost imagine the future scolding. “And if Gu Jie can’t be fully vindicated, I guess I’ll get dragged down with him.”

Lu Yiyao’s eyes shone with a soft smile. “Even if you flop, I’ll be there to catch you.”

Ran Lin was half amused, half exasperated. “Then we’ll both flop.”

Lu Yiyao looked at him steadily. “Then I’ll just have to lift you back up again.”

It was an uncertain matter, but coming from his lover, it was filled with certainty.

Ran Lin held back his laughter. “Does that mean I can strut around the entertainment industry?”

Without hesitation, Lu Yiyao nodded. “You can even dance in the square if you want.”

Ending the video call, Ran Lin felt no more hesitation, only a sense of solidity.

With a press of his thumb, he sent the repost. Gu Jie’s pinned post. “I don’t look for trouble, but I am not afraid of it,” was now on Ran Lin’s Weibo homepage, echoing his own sentiments.

After reposting, Ran Lin searched through Weibo. His colleagues were all silent.

Gu Jie had been in the industry longer and had a smooth career. Although he was low-key, he surely had friends, but now, not one was speaking out.

That was understandable.

After all, the truth wasn’t clear yet, and the issue involved the sensitive topic of harassing a female actress. Even if people contacted him privately to offer comfort, it was best to stay cautious in public.

But Ran Lin couldn’t do that.

He knew the truth, and he couldn’t pretend ignorance.

After a round of searching, he returned to his own Weibo to find it a storm of comments—

[The World is so Big I Want To Go Slap-Slap: Not looking for trouble won’t get you in trouble 🐶]

[Crystal Palace: In society, I’m like Ran Ge, fierce and concise. One repost and it’s a storm, bound to crash eventually. 🤷]

[Calculus Flyby: Standing by someone at this time, how low can your IQ be…]

[Rich Fur Village: Of course, he’ll help his “good brother” from the same crew 😏]

[Die Straight-Male Cancer: Not looking for trouble but not afraid of it, so are you two preparing to team up and bash Qi Luoluo?]

[Lily Nijiang Sauce: I think it’s good. Saves the hesitation. Let’s just pack up and go to the dark side together 👋]

Whether it was because he had just been torn apart by Han Ze’s fans and had developed antibodies, or because Lu Yiyao’s words were energizing, Ran Lin looked at these negative comments with an oddly calm heart.

Even if no one else stood up for Gu Jie, he would, because that was his friend.

Even if everyone criticized him for taking sides at this time, he wasn’t afraid because there was always one person who would forever support him; he just had to look back to see that “blindly confident” handsome face.

And…

Ran Lin, seeing the many supportive comments from his fans and the scattered Gu Jie fans among the negative ones, felt he didn’t need to make himself out to be a tragic hero. In his fanbase, there were still more supporters, moved followers, and those who teased overtly but cared covertly—

[Peppy Shrimp Let’s Go: Idol, do you want the company to buy you a trending spot instead of rocketing yourself up there? [I might have become a fan of an idiot.jpg]]

[White Dragon’s Reverse Scale: Thought you and Gu Jie were just close friends; turns out it’s deeper than that 🫠.]

[Professional Nunchucks Level 2: I’m a fan of Gu Jie. Thank you for being willing to stand by him at this time, he’s really wronged 😭.]

[Lin’s Family Burning Noodles: Firmly helping to repost.]

[Idle Sword of Fallen Flowers: Don’t know why, but I just feel so fired up. This is what brotherhood is about!]

[Burning Noodles Fan Club: Why should Qi Luoluo get to say anything with just a crappy surveillance shot, while an actor who knows the situation best can’t speak up? Anyway, I’m with Ran Lin this round. Okay, I’ve been a fan since ‘Drifting Stories’ so I’m an old Burning Noodles, rolling on the floor begging for a mention! 🤪 🤪]

[Yao Love For Life: Not kicking someone when they’re down is kindness; daring to provide coal in snow* is a warrior’s deed.]

*Idiom referring to the act of offering help or support to someone in their time of need.

As Ran Lin read, he pondered how he should release the video once he got it from the hotel. He wondered if he should also prepare a lengthy Weibo post detailing all the specifics, making the video and evidence fit together more cohesively and convincingly. And he couldn’t just post it himself; having Xi Jie find some marketing accounts to lead the charge might seem more credible…

As he was lost in thought, he refreshed the page, and a slew of new comments had already flooded in, with the top one being—

[Passion Burns Summer: Xia Xinran and Lu Yiyao liked both Gu Jie and Ran Lin’s Weibo posts. The Drifting Team’s bond is indeed not plastic. [Shows a smile of a proud mother.jpg] [screenshot.jpg]]

Ran Lin froze, clicked on the screenshot, and sure enough, his lover and friend had liked the posts just minutes after he had made them.

These days, liking a post is akin to making a statement. While it’s not as overt as reposting, it certainly indicates taking a side.

Those two…

Knock, knock.

The sudden knock on the door interrupted Ran Lin’s train of thought.

Puzzled, he put down his phone and walked towards the door, asking cautiously, “Who is it?”

“Gu Jie—” The reply came straightforwardly.

Ran Lin quickly moved to open the door, seeing Gu Jie still dressed as he was when he returned, seemingly just finished talking with the director. His expression wasn’t overly somber, though his brow was furrowed, and his aura was as strong as usual.

“Finished talking with the director?” Ran Lin let his friend in.

“Yes, now it’s up to Qiang Ge to communicate with him. I’m just waiting.” Gu Jie walked into the room, continuing, “Do we have a plan now?”

Gu Jie was surprised. “You can tell?”

Ran Lin: “…It’s really not hard at all.”

Gu Jie’s thoughts were all too easy to guess. No, there wasn’t even a need to guess; it was all written on his face.

“The director is too cunning.” Gu Jie couldn’t hold back his mixed feelings. “When he was talking to Qi Luoluo, not only did he have an assistant present, but he also recorded everything with a hidden camera.”

Ran Lin was astonished; he hadn’t expected the seemingly straightforward director to pull such a trick.

He thought having an assistant present during the conversation was already being cautious, but it turned out the director not only took precautions but also secured a trump card.

“Did Qi Luoluo confess to harassing you during that conversation?” Ran Lin asked, sensing something amiss.

“Of course, she wasn’t that foolish. At first, she kept saying I was deliberately making things difficult for her, insisting it was me who attempted to harass her. But later, it seems the director used some method to make her fall into her own trap.” Gu Jie scratched his head. “I’m not exactly sure myself. We’ll know when the video comes out.”

“……” Ran Lin knew he wouldn’t get any substantial details from Gu Jie.

“I came here to tell you this,” Gu Jie continued. “You don’t need to worry about me. Qiang Ge said that with the video the director took, I can not only clear my name but also help boost the attention for <Dyeing Fire>. The director has always been worried about his film being critically acclaimed but not a box office hit…”

Ran Lin understood. “So now the two of them are in cahoots.”

Gu Jie recalled the scene of his agent and the director’s video call and shook his head. “Not just in cahoots, they’re almost sworn brothers now.”

Ran Lin didn’t know how to comment on this twist of events, but he was extremely curious about the video content.

“You reposted my Weibo?!” Gu Jie, casually scrolling through Weibo, exclaimed in surprise.

Ran Lin blinked, feeling oddly like he’d been caught doing something naughty and managed a “Mm.”

Gu Jie flopped down in a chair, looking resigned. “What were you thinking? Did you guess the director had a hidden recording?”

Ran Lin protested, “If I had that kind of imagination, I’d be writing sci-fi novels!”

“So why did you repost it?” Gu Jie’s tone was genuinely disapproving. “If I can’t clear my name, wouldn’t that drag you down too? It’s unnecessary.”

“I stand by my friends. Why do I need a reason?” His agent didn’t criticize, his lover didn’t criticize, but being criticized by the involved party left Ran Lin unsure whether to laugh or cry. “And this is just step one. I plan to write a long Weibo post recreating the scene.”

Gu Jie stared dumbfounded for a long time, then let out a sigh of relief. “Lucky I came to you first.”

Ran Lin gave him a look. “If not for you, I wouldn’t even have this movie. One Weibo post for a leading role in a famous director’s film—I’m making a fortune.”

Gu Jie looked at Ran Lin, emotions churning in his chest, but in the end, he just stood up, patted Ran Lin’s shoulder firmly, and squeezed it, all without a word.

Ran Lin stared back fiercely amid the excruciating pain on his shoulders, deciding if Gu Jie didn’t let go within three seconds, he’d yell for release.

Fortunately, Gu Jie didn’t keep on squeezing and let go before Ran Lin had to scream.

Ran Lin’s shoulder slumped, he breathed deeply several times, moved his arm around to make sure it was still functional, and confirmed, yep, it’s not wasted, still usable.

“Oh right.” Just as he was moving his arms, Ran Lin remembered the conversation with Lu Yiyao and quickly said, “There are three cameras in the corridor. Qi Luoluo released footage from the middle one, which didn’t capture the door clearly. Another camera should have a clear view of you not closing the door after entering. We can ask the hotel for it.”

Although Director He had a killer piece of evidence, more evidence was always better.

But Gu Jie said, “Director He already asked for it this afternoon when Qi Luoluo released her post. The hotel has been reluctant to give it, saying it’s only available for police investigations or similar incidents.”

Ran Lin was speechless. “Then how did Qi Luoluo get the footage?”

Gu Jie shrugged, unclear as well.

The footage from Qi Luoluo must have also come from the hotel, but not necessarily through official channels. The hotel would naturally prefer to avoid trouble, especially as it’s frequented by celebrities. If they started releasing surveillance footage left and right, it would make many feel their privacy wasn’t respected. However, if the production team insisted and it wasn’t the hotel itself in trouble, they might still provide it.

But if Director He has the conversation on video, then whether they have the surveillance footage or not doesn’t really matter. With time being of the essence, the director probably can’t be bothered to negotiate further.

“Lu Yiyao also liked it?” Gu Jie found something new upon refreshing Weibo.

Ran Lin laughed at his expression of discovery. “Xia Xinran did too.”

Gu Jie froze, his phone scrolling slowing, then stopping completely, falling into silence.

Ran Lin watched his friend’s expression turn pensive, his eyes burning with intensity, uncertain of his mood.

Suddenly, Gu Jie looked up.

Ran Lin was startled by his intense gaze, scooting back on the bed reflexively, only to hear his friend’s resounding voice—

“Let’s find time for the four of us to become sworn brothers!”

Ran Lin considered the suggestion seriously and finally said cautiously, “How about… we first ask Teacher Lu and Xia Xinran what they think?”

……

While the crew in Wuhan remained unsettled, two agents in Beijing were closely monitoring the situation.

At 9:30 p.m., in the office on the second floor of Lu Yiyao’s studio, Yao Hong was multitasking between her laptop and phone’s speaker, issuing tasks to the publicity staff who were pulled into overtime work, and communicating with her artist. “Where did the video come from?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “From the hotel, of course.”

Yao Hong was exasperated. “You’re in Tianjin with your crew, and you’re sending me surveillance footage from a Wuhan hotel. Don’t tell me you teleported there to get it.”

“It doesn’t matter how it was obtained, as long as the surveillance is real,” Lu Yiyao said. “Hong Jie, get someone to edit the video. Highlight the parts where Gu Jie didn’t close the door and where Qi Luoluo closed it herself. Oh, and the timeline, make sure it matches with Qi Luoluo’s video, preferably do a side-by-side comparison…”

Yao Hong interjected, “Why don’t you come and do it?”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

“You could’ve been an idol, but instead, you worry like a manager,” Yao Hong said with a laugh. “Alright, I know what to do. Video editing, marketing account reposts, hired guns to lead the charge, and stirring up the crowd—one-stop service. I’ll ensure your boyfriend’s show of support turns into an act of valor, bravery, and selflessness.”

Lu Yiyao: “Well, it’s not entirely for Ran Lin. Gu Jie is also my friend.”

Yao Hong: “Oh.”

Lu Yiyao: “…Hong Jie, sorry for the trouble.”

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao chewed on the Tianjin twist pastry sent by fans while contemplating how fortunate Gu Jie was to have such a cunning director.

Two hours earlier, his lover informed him not to worry anymore; the director had evidence to turn the tables and was working on it. As for the surveillance video, since the hotel was reluctant and it wasn’t decisive evidence, they decided not to pursue it.

He had initially sent someone to get the video from the hotel, intending to let Hong Jie help with leading the charge. The plan was to muddy the waters if a turnaround was challenging, but unexpectedly, good news came from heaven. So, once the video was actually obtained, the strategy shifted from “muddying the waters” to “corroborating evidence”.

Now, they were just waiting for updates from Geng Yiqiang and the director, likely a joint statement from Gu Jie’s team and the production crew.

Once Yao Hong’s video added fuel to the fire, the “truth” would blaze even brighter.

Meanwhile, at Wang Xi’s home, which had turned into an office.

Wu Xia sent the last message on QQ and turned to report to Wang Xi. “Everything’s ready. Just waiting for the crew to make a statement. As soon as they do, we’ll make it go viral.”

Wang Xi nodded. “It’s best if it comes out before 10:30—that’s when there’s high traffic.”

“Why didn’t you stop Ran Ge? If he hadn’t reposted Gu Jie’s Weibo, it would’ve been fine.” Wu Xia, who had been summoned by Wang Xi after dinner to help manage and control the situation for Ran Lin, was puzzled. She had been brought in mainly to put out fires for Ran Lin, who had publicly sided on the still unclear “Gu Jie harassing female actress” issue.

But as they were managing the situation, Ran Lin called to first acknowledge his impulsiveness and then confidently said there was no need to worry and that everything would turn around by evening. So, Wu Xia put down the fire extinguisher and picked up the accelerant, waiting for the turnaround to help boost the heat.

However, when Ran Lin reposted, there was no sign of a turnaround yet, so Wu Xia didn’t understand why he insisted on reposting under such circumstances.

Wang Xi didn’t explain but merely asked, “How many in the entertainment industry, among all the stars big and small, dare to do this?”

Wu Xia frowned, pondering for a moment. “Very few, I guess.”

Wang Xi smiled. “So, for such rare animals, we need to protect them.”

……

Gu Jie stayed in Ran Lin’s room until 10:45 when Geng Yiqiang called to say everything was sorted. The two of them, who were playing online games, hurriedly exited and logged onto Weibo. By then, keywords like “Dyeing Fire crew releases clarifying video,” “Gu Jie responds,” “Ran Lin’s righteous stand,” “Qi Luoluo harassment incident turns around,” “Qi Luoluo hotel surveillance,” and others were trending on the hot search list. The Dyeing Fire crew’s clarification was at the top, followed by several related keywords in the top ten, with even “Lu Yiyao likes” and “Xia Xinran likes” making it into the top twenty.

Ran Lin didn’t click on the hot searches but went directly to the <Dyeing Fire> official Weibo. The top post was the clarifying Weibo, posted at 10:25. Probably Geng Yiqiang observed the situation after posting and felt it was stable before informing Gu Jie.

The clarifying video was posted by the Dyeing Fire official Weibo, but it was clearly the work of a professional publicity team. Dyeing Fire hadn’t reached the actual publicity stage yet, and the publicity team was almost unorganized, so it must have been Geng Yiqiang’s doing.

The entire Weibo was written succinctly, clearly expressing the sequence of events using the most lucid words. It didn’t sensationalize, play the victim, or lead the narrative but merely restored the facts themselves. It laid out the sequence of events as “Qi Luoluo’s inability to immerse in her role—frequent NG causing significant delays for the crew—Gu Jie as the male lead being extremely professional and patient in reshooting—Qi Luoluo’s unsuccessful harassment turned accusation—crew learning the truth and terminating the contract with her.” The post methodically and clearly untangled the whole affair.

More importantly, the crew provided evidence for each point.

For Qi Luoluo’s inability to immerse—there was a large compilation of NG clips. Though outsiders saw it as entertainment, Ran Lin, as someone who had experienced it, could tell these NGs were carefully selected. Each clip started with Qi Luoluo’s performance and ended with the director calling NG, not showing any aftertalk or other scenes. Each one clearly indicated that it was Qi Luoluo’s fault for the NG, especially the first few clips, which were almost the most awkward NG scenes of Qi Luoluo.

For frequent NG causing significant delays—there were behind-the-scenes clips. Who knows who chose them, but they picked a scene with the most NGs, and it was a complex scene to coordinate. So one could clearly hear the crew’s sighs becoming more and more pronounced with each NG, eventually leaving little face for Qi Luoluo.

For Gu Jie being extremely professional and patient—there was a large compilation of NG clips. But this compilation wasn’t about how Qi Luoluo NG’d but how Gu Jie patiently reshot with her time and again, occasionally encouraging her, truly the epitome of a warm man.

The video that depicted Qi Luoluo’s attempted harassment and subsequent accusation against Gu Jie, followed by the crew’s termination of her contract, utilized the director’s trump card—the conversation video.

The camera was placed perfectly, avoiding the sleazy feel of a spy cam while not appearing too staged like an interview. It was clear it was hidden, yet the perspective and feel were surprisingly comfortable. Ran Lin suspected the director had enlisted the crew’s cinematographer to position the camera.

The video was edited down to nine minutes, yet it encapsulated all the essentials.

It began with Qi Luoluo crying, more convincingly than in any of her scenes, then immediately playing the victim, telling the director that Gu Jie was deliberately making things difficult for her that day because he had attempted to harass her the night before. The director straightforwardly countered that Gu Jie had already explained it was she who harassed him. Qi Luoluo’s shocked expression was award-worthy. Quickly realizing that her tears weren’t working, she directly threatened the director, saying if the crew terminated her contract, she would expose Gu Jie’s alleged harassment.

Up to this point, Qi Luoluo firmly maintained that Gu Jie harassed her.

Then something incredible happened. Ran Lin could hardly see the editing, but he knew it was there because the next second, the director earnestly said, “Tell me the truth. There’s still room for discussion if you do.”

Before Qi Luoluo could respond, the director’s assistant excused himself, leaving only the director and Qi Luoluo in the room—a quiet atmosphere for a “private heart-to-heart”.

Perhaps the assistant’s departure emboldened Qi Luoluo, or maybe she thought her threat had worked and the goddess of fortune was beckoning. Suddenly, with her eyes lifted, she grabbed the director’s hand and said, “Director He, I really want to act in this film!”

Director He subtly withdrew his hand, responding sincerely and kindly, “I really want to give you another chance too, because our schedule is already severely delayed. Although you still have many unresolved issues in your acting, we’ve already shot for over ten days. Replacing you and reshooting would be too costly. But you’re not focusing on acting, resorting to underhanded tactics instead. Now Gu Jie is too disturbed by your interference to adjust properly. Even if I let you continue, you two can’t work together.”

“I’ll apologize to him!” Qi Luoluo quickly interjected, her tone genuine. “I was just impulsive, and besides, I didn’t really do anything. I hadn’t even touched him before he ran off, and I’m a woman. What harm could I do him!”

That was enough for the video.

The rest was probably to make the video seem complete and not end abruptly.

But certainly, the video wasn’t the whole story. At least, none of Director He’s masterful maneuvers were included. What exactly he said to make Qi Luoluo soften and gradually fall into her own trap is known only to him and maybe God.

Suddenly, Ran Lin remembered the director he’d shared a lamb leg with—that all an act! He’s a cunning old fox!

The comments section exploded—

[Damn damn damn, nowadays you can’t live without a camera in the room. The director is so wise!!!]

[I just want to know how many actresses like Qi Luoluo have tricked Director He before for him to have such masterful evasion skills 🤣.]

[Ahhh I’m so mad! Support Gu Jie suing her. Click the upper right corner to boost me up! 😡 😡 😡]

[How can there be such a wicked person. Gu Jie’s cooperation with her was a curse for eight lifetimes!!!]

[Damn, seeing her repeatedly NG and Gu Jie still encouraging her, I’m crying. 😭 😭 😭 ]

[Gu Jie really got the short end of the stick this time. If not for the director having a backup plan, he would have been blackened beyond redemption! Damn, the male lead and the whole crew treated you like a princess, and you turn around and mow them down with a machine gun, well done.]

[Gu Jie’s plight reminds me of a saying, arsonists get medals, but good deeds go unrecorded 👋.]

[I don’t want to talk, just waiting for the movie release. I’ll book the whole theater! PS. She’s definitely not acting in it now, right?]

[Hotel video sequel out , you can clearly see Gu Jie didn’t close the door, which matches what he said on his Weibo! I had bashed Gu Jie before. I’ll go die now 😭.]

Sequel?

Ran Lin curiously clicked on the video; indeed, it was the surveillance footage Gu Jie mentioned the director had attempted to get from the hotel. The video not only showed Gu Jie not closing the door but also vaguely captured Qi Luoluo coming to close it!

Although the footage was blurry, the video maker was considerate enough to add subtitles and circled out some easily overlooked details, making annotations. Most importantly, in the last ten seconds, they added a split-screen comparison from two angles, almost eliminating any doubt of “video fabrication”.

Ran Lin searched for the video’s origin, finding it came from a cluster of marketing accounts, released right after the crew and Gu Jie’s responses, as if meant to further bolster the crew’s clarification.

The hotel was reluctant to give the footage to the crew but quickly and efficiently leaked it to marketing accounts. Ran Lin couldn’t comprehend this logic.

But he didn’t have time to ponder further. With this explosion of information, he had plenty of places to visit. Exiting the marketing account’s Weibo that released the surveillance video, Ran Lin immediately went to Gu Jie’s homepage.

Gu Jie’s pinned Weibo post was no longer just a sentence but a long post, clearly a response to Qi Luoluo—[No actor is too small, act with conscience.]

Ran Lin opened the long post. It wasn’t as lengthy as Qi Luoluo’s, just a few hundred words, but it succinctly clarified the situation, mirroring the style of the Dyeing Fire crew’s official Weibo. It didn’t sensationalize, play the victim, or accuse; it was just dignified and calm, at peace with himself.

The comments were, as expected, filled with apologies, support, and calls to action.

And many, evident from their avatars and IDs, were male fans. Ran Lin’s fans were mostly female, and he now realized that male fans can be even more fervent.

Leaving Gu Jie’s Weibo, Ran Lin went to the trending list and found “Ran Lin’s Righteous Stand” had surged to the third spot on the hot search list. Clicking in, it was all marketing accounts praising him, and the comments were similar to those under Gu Jie’s post: apologies from those who had previously criticized, likes from those who had been watching, many converting to fans or solidifying their fanhood. The only difference was that there weren’t as many males wanting to work out with their idol as there were under Gu Jie’s comments.

His own fan base also saw a significant surge.

Although Ran Lin suspected that his agent had capitalized on the situation, the main force was undoubtedly Geng Yiqiang. After coordinating with Director He and releasing the clarifying statement, as well as the subsequent momentum building, they nearly monopolized the evening’s trending topics. Not only did they clear Gu Jie’s name and turned public opinion against Qi Luoluo entirely, but they also gold-plated his peripheral involvement in the matter—a classic counterstrike.

“Your Qiang Ge is impressive.” Ran Lin lifted his head, expressing admiration to Gu Jie.

He and his friend had been together the whole time, even playing mobile games. Naturally, the long Weibo post came from Gu Jie’s agent’s effort.

Moreover, letting the crew’s official Weibo handle the slap-back while he just rode the breeze, stating the facts—the posture couldn’t be cooler.

Gu Jie, who had first checked his long Weibo, had just finished watching the crew’s clarification post with its compilations and videos, looked up in disbelief. “How many people would it take to pick those NGs and do the editing? If <Dyeing Fire> post-production had this speed, our movie could be released by the end of the year!”

Ran Lin was exasperated. “Can you focus on what’s important…”

Gu Jie put down his phone. “I was already excited when Director He told me there was no problem. Now I don’t feel much.”

Ran Lin didn’t know what to say. After a while, he remarked, “Qi Luoluo would die of anger hearing you say that.”

Instead of reveling in the aftermath of revenge, Gu Jie sighed deeply, seriously saying, “In the future, I absolutely will not go to a female actress’s room alone, not even if I die.”

Ran Lin rolled his eyes. “You should have thought that way earlier.”

Gu Jie tugged at the corner of his mouth helplessly. “Why can’t people just be straightforward and simple in their interactions? If you like someone, spend more time with them; if not, avoid them. Why make it all so complicated and scheming. I always thought palace dramas were all made up and everyone in them is paranoid.”

Ran Lin raised an eyebrow. “And now?”

Gu Jie spread his hands. “I admit I wouldn’t last one episode in them.”

Ran Lin laughed heartily, then sighed lightly. “This was actually quite risky. If Director He had just had a normal conversation without cunningly leading Qi Luoluo into admitting, even if he released the video, it wouldn’t have been useful.”

Gu Jie clearly agreed with his friend’s opinion, determined never to have such a second encounter.

Ran Lin suddenly found himself puzzled by his own earlier reflection and asked Gu Jie, “Did Director He anticipate Qi Luoluo would frame you from the beginning? Otherwise, why go to such lengths to make her admit you didn’t harass her?”

Gu Jie explained, “He got tricked by an actress in a similar way early in his career, saying he had unwritten rules with her. It was a tough fight to clear that up. Since then, he’s been particularly sensitive to these matters, guarding against them rigorously, now almost unassailable in defense.”

Ran Lin was thoroughly impressed; it wasn’t just guarding but offense and defense combined.

But through this incident, he also realized…

“Director He really considers you a friend,” Ran Lin mused. “Otherwise, he could have just protected himself. He didn’t need to prevent future problems for you. That video wasn’t fully edited; who knows how much effort it took to make Qi Luoluo admit the truth.”

“It’s not what you think…” Gu Jie muttered, unusually silent.

Ran Lin had expected Gu Jie to agree or share more about their brotherhood history with Director He but didn’t expect such a response.

After a long moment of contemplation, Ran Lin spoke again. “You don’t think Director He did all this just for the film, do you? Sure, the film must be considered, but I truly believe he sees you as a friend; otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths…”

“I’m not saying he did it for the film,” Gu Jie interrupted his friend helplessly. “I’m saying he and I aren’t what you think, we’re not buddies.”

Ran Lin was taken aback.

The awkwardness and hesitance on Gu Jie’s face suddenly made the room’s atmosphere tense.

Ran Lin, stunned by the sudden revelation, swallowed hard and finally asked in a trembling voice, “So… what is your relationship?”

Gu Jie looked at his friend for a long time, then slammed his phone down on the table in resignation. “He’s my second maternal aunt’s husband’s third sister’s husband.”

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