Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 59

Ran Lin hadn’t done many impulsive things in his life: signing with Dream Without Limits to enter the entertainment industry was one, confessing to Lu Yiyao was another, and rashly coming over today was yet another.

Among them, the confession to Lu Yiyao had merely started with “I don’t just see you as a friend” before he retreated.

He really didn’t want to lead a perfectly good young man astray, which involved not just guilt but also a sense of insecurity about “the other person’s feelings”. Relationships between men are inherently unstable, and with Lu Yiyao having never liked another man before, part of the refusal was “wanting the best for him”, but another part was about “protecting oneself”.

The pressures of the entertainment industry and Lu Yiyao’s uncertain orientation made the prospects of this romance seem precarious. He didn’t want to find himself halfway through a relationship only to discover there was no path forward; that would be too painful. So from the very beginning, he subconsciously resisted taking the first step.

Ran Lin thought that if it weren’t for Lu Yiyao, there wouldn’t be a second person who would be so serious, patient, and unwaveringly dedicated to him.

“Other” people might get bored and stop contacting him due to his continual avoidance of sensitive topics; or they might have stormed off in a huff after being rejected in the villa’s backyard; or even earlier, “they” might never have confessed at all, because clearly in this relationship, “they” could easily take the initiative.

But Lu Yiyao chose the dumbest method.

He gracefully stepped back to a non-threatening distance and then warmly smiled at you, occasionally teasing you with a feather.

Being teased by a feather was quite pleasant, especially since he had already refused him; whatever came next, he could cleanly detach himself from—no responsibility, no burden, just pure enjoyment.

However, the longer it went, the less at ease Ran Lin felt.

Three months, ninety days; he had countless opportunities to repeat the “I’m sorry, I don’t accept” from that night in the backyard, but he never said it a second time. He still felt guilty, but beneath that guilt was selfishness.

He liked this person.

Liked him enough that he didn’t want to push him away a second time.

So he subconsciously kept him hanging, neither accepting nor rejecting, staying in a comfort zone where he felt most justified.

Until Huo Yuntao’s phone call.

The call was abrupt, reckless, extremely impolite.

But as soon as Ran Lin heard that it was Huo Yuntao who had called, he had an epiphany.

This was Huo Yuntao’s attitude.

As Lu Yiyao’s best friend, he was angry and indignant on Lu Yiyao’s behalf. If possible, he would prefer to bring the person face-to-face for a clear talk, proceed if it’s meant to be, and part ways if not. The situation was already crystal clear, so why pretend it was still ambiguous.

‘Actually, it’s quite pointless,’ Ran Lin thought. Not just pointless but also a waste of time.

Three months nearly flew by in the blink of an eye. If he continued to drag things out, before he knew it, a year would have passed.

Lu Yiyao was set to start filming a movie in July, and by the time it finished, the year would be over. For actors, time flies unnoticed, with days rushing forward like a stream.

No one knows what uncertainties the future holds, and the thought of missing this chance and possibly not seeing Lu Yiyao for the rest of the year unsettled him. That unsettlement heated his brain, and when the brain heats up, people tend to act impulsively.

Besides wanting to tell Lu Yiyao immediately that he liked him and wanted to be with him, he also carried a “not wanting to embarrass the person he liked” kind of fighting spirit.

He hoped that in front of Huo Yuntao, he would be seen as “someone worth Lu Yiyao’s affection”, not a coward too afraid to face Lu Yiyao’s friends.

So he had been building up his momentum all the way, and as soon as he entered, he made his stance clear. The words he just said were probably the most assertive he had been in his entire 24 years of life; his aura was not just 2.8 meters tall, but perhaps eight!

Ran Lin was quite pleased with his performance, and according to his script, the next part should be Lu Yiyao joyfully leaping over to give him a bear hug…

But the scene didn’t seem very optimistic.

Ran Lin swallowed nervously, looking at the bewildered Lu Yiyao. Teacher Lu’s expression indeed turned into that of a happy puppy, but his body seemed petrified, motionless like a flat screenshot, not at all the anticipated [gif] reaction.

In comparison, Huo Yuntao’s expression was much more vivid and animated. But after careful scrutiny, Ran Lin was sure it didn’t contain any hint of “young man, I admire you.”

The nervousness he had previously forgotten slowly crept back, and Ran Lin began to suspect he had messed things up, suddenly feeling a bit regretful.

The dressing room fell into a long and subtle silence. No one moved or spoke; viewed from above, it would resemble a dreadfully awkward scene.

But only those within could hear the storm brewing in the depths of their souls. And first to be swept up in the storm was Huo Yuntao.

His original intention in making the call was to stand up for his friend, so why did the main culprit rush over to declare his love? And was this really the Ran Lin that Lu Yiyao talked about daily? Wasn’t that Ran Lin supposed to be a minor transparent actor with little courage and a tendency to provoke without accepting the consequences? What’s with this commanding presence of a male lead?

This isn’t a pig; this is a damn lion, the kind that guards the gate!

Lu Yiyao wasn’t receptive to his friend’s silent protests and cries. His heart had exploded into popcorn at the moment of hearing “you succeeded”, buttery and sugary, transforming into a cloud carrying him through the stars.

“Maybe…” Unable to bear the silence, Ran Lin weakly proposed a retreat. “Pretend I never came?”

Huo Yuntao was frustrated and about to speak when Lu Yiyao interjected—

“Lao Huo, turn around.”

Huo Yuntao was confused and looked at Lu Yiyao. Lu Yiyao barely smiled. “Turn.”

Huo Yuntao felt a surge of exasperation, tempted to rush out and strangle the high-ranking executive of his entertainment company who had procured today’s invitation for him—why did you help me get the invitation for today!!!

Ran Lin, completely baffled, watched Huo Yuntao turn around, not understanding this game between brothers, but feeling a vague sympathy seeing his disconsolate face.

As he was pondering, a shadow suddenly loomed over him, blocking the light.

Instinctively, Ran Lin turned around to find his lips brushed by a quick peck. The action was so swift and light that by the time he focused on Lu Yiyao’s smiling face, he wasn’t sure if he had really been kissed or if it was an illusion.

Lu Yiyao stood right in front of him, close but not intimately so. Ran Lin heard the thumping of a heartbeat, unsure if it was his own or the other’s. He opened his mouth to speak, but Lu Yiyao beat him to it, reaching out to touch his face.

Like the kiss, Lu Yiyao’s touch was dangerously gentle, his fingertips grazing his cheek, lingering and reluctant to leave.

Ran Lin finally snapped out of his daze, bemused by Lu Yiyao’s focused expression, and asked softly, “Is this… quality checking?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t stop; his eyes were filled with contentment. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

Ran Lin chuckled, teasingly asking, “How does it feel?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “Marvelous.”

Ran Lin’s heart melted, feeling like he was falling for this man all over again…

Bang—

The loud door slam signified the indignant exit of Young Master Huo—these two love cheats sons of a bitches!

Ran Lin watched the dust settle from the closed door, suddenly worried about his reputation among Lu Yiyao’s friends. But Lu Yiyao relaxed completely, pulling Ran Lin into his embrace without any hesitation.

Ran Lin’s first instinct was to wrap his arms around Lu Yiyao’s back, a response almost instinctual. His eyes grew misty; he had never thought he’d fall for someone so outstanding, and by chance, that person also liked him back.

But Ran Lin’s embrace stirred Lu Yiyao into excitement.

He wasn’t a saint; ever since he realized his feelings for Ran Lin, he had been crazed with desire. He despised how cool he had to appear while chatting on WeChat, knowing full well the intensity of his feelings.

The current setting obviously wasn’t suitable for much, but collecting some interest was always due.

When Ran Lin found himself pressed against the wall, he hadn’t quite grasped the situation before Lu Yiyao’s lips descended, sweeping away all his thoughts with a kiss.

It was a passionate and oppressive kiss.

Ran Lin closed his eyes involuntarily, pressed tightly against the wall, wanting to reciprocate but lacking the strength to do so. The other’s almost aggressive demand took everything he could give.

By the time Lu Yiyao finally released his lips, Ran Lin’s legs nearly buckled. His body was still pressed by Lu Yiyao, their noses brushed against each other, eyes closed and filled with desire.

“Someone might come in…” Ran Lin knew it was a mood killer to say such things, but he was genuinely afraid. The more he liked Lu Yiyao, the more he feared him getting hurt because of him.

“No, they won’t,” Lu Yiyao murmured, his breath erratic and warm on Ran Lin’s face. “Lao Huo is guarding the door.”

Ran Lin felt exasperated. After being tricked like that, he was still standing guard for his brother. What kind of brotherhood was this!

But then, his heart warmed up, happy for Lu Yiyao. “He’s really good to you.”

Lu Yiyao gazed at him steadily, unable to resist, and kissed him again. “He will be good to you too.”

Ran Lin’s face felt like it was on fire, yet he feigned calmness. “Love for the house extends to the crows on its roof*?”

*(爱屋及乌) It’s an idiom referring to when you love a person, you will also care about the people or things related to them.

“No.” Lu Yiyao shook his head, speaking gently. “It’s more like he will discover how good you are, just like I did.”

Lu Yiyao’s lips were especially attractive, especially when he was saying sweet things. Watching him, Ran Lin got carried away and couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Lu Yiyao’s eyes darkened, and he struggled to restrain himself, his voice low and husky. “Stop seducing me.”

Ran Lin protested innocently, “I just kissed you once, and you’ve kissed me…”

“I can kiss you,” Lu Yiyao interrupted, “but you can’t kiss me.”

Ran Lin widened his eyes. “What’s the difference?”

Lu Yiyao then buried his face in Ran Lin’s neck, murmuring, “When I kiss you, I can hold back, but when you kiss me, I just want to devour you…”

Ran Lin felt like he was about to ascend to heaven…

Foul!

That was cheating! With Lu Yiyao acting so coquettishly, Ran Lin wouldn’t mind being devoured to the last crumb…

Thump, thump, thump.

Seemingly calculated to prevent the situation from becoming unmanageable, Young Master Huo timely knocked as a warning.

Lu Yiyao gave Ran Lin a deep look, reluctantly let go, and turned to open the door, letting Huo Yuntao back in.

Huo Yuntao had already realized when he was outside. No, he didn’t need to think too hard; seeing Lu Yiyao’s silly look, he knew the case was hopeless. He wasn’t going to play the spoilsport; instead, if possible, he’d fully support this couple, providing a shelter from the storm… Lu Yiyao owed him one!

“Let’s reintroduce ourselves.” Huo Yuntao extended his hand in friendship after taking a deep breath. “Hello, I’m Huo Yuntao.”

Ran Lin somewhat awkwardly straightened his shirt before shaking hands. “Hello, I’m Ran Lin.”

“Sorry about the call earlier,” Huo Yuntao muttered. “Hope I didn’t cause you any trouble.”

“No,” Ran Lin denied quickly. “You were very discreet.”

Huo Yuntao felt awkward but quickly asked, “How did you explain your sudden visit here to your agent?”

Ran Lin replied truthfully, “I said a very good friend was also here, and I had to say hello.”

Huo Yuntao frowned. “A very good friend?”

Ran Lin glanced at Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao nodded and turned back to Huo Yuntao. “You’re mine, I’m his, so you’re his too. It makes sense.”

Huo Yuntao no longer wanted to talk to these two.

He’d gone from a supporting actor to a complete antagonist, and now he just wanted to rush home and cuddle with his wife.

Though fraught with deep emotions, in the end, Ran Lin’s lips were only a little reddened, and his light makeup wasn’t obviously smeared. His shirt was neat after readjusting. Both he and Lu Yiyao had very little time, so staying until now was already pushing it.

“I have to go back,” Ran Lin finally said. Parting just after getting together always felt bittersweet.

“Go,” Lu Yiyao said, his eyes still fixated on Ran Lin.

Huo Yuntao watched the two and felt a pang of empathy; what seemed easy for others was fraught with difficulties for them. Sighing, he softened and suggested, “Don’t be like this. It’s not a farewell. We can arrange a safe four-person date another day.”

The word “date” seemed to have a magical healing effect. The couple finally smiled.

Then Huo Yuntao heard Ran Lin say, “See you tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao responded, “Mm.”

After Ran Lin left, Huo Yuntao, a beat too late, realized something was amiss and turned to Lu Yiyao, “Tomorrow?”

Lu Yiyao nodded as if it were obvious. “Tomorrow’s premiere in Shanghai.”

Huo Yuntao prodded, “And then?”

Lu Yiyao: “Then there’s Suzhou and Hangzhou.”

Huo Yuntao narrowed his eyes, his voice turning dangerous. “So… you two are together for the next three days?”

Lu Yiyao suddenly hugged his friend. “Thank you for today.”

Huo Yuntao: “Don’t change the subject!!!”

……

When Ran Lin returned to the dressing room, Wang Xi finally relaxed. She wasn’t interested in Ran Lin’s private friendships; as long as they didn’t affect his career, she wouldn’t interfere.

Still, she offered a reminder. “You took quite a while there.”

Ran Lin replied with an easy smile, “Just had a few extra words.”

Wang Xi nodded, not prying further, only advising, “You can afford to do this now, cherish it. Once you become more famous and attract more attention, you’ll find even simple things can become complicated, and you’ll need to be careful about everything you do.”

Ran Lin’s eyes twinkled mischievously. “I thought I was already quite famous.”

Expecting an eye roll from his manager, he was surprised when Wang Xi stood up and gave him a pat on the back. “Chest out, head up, look forward!”

Startled, Ran Lin reflexively adopted the posture, standing tall like a pine. Wang Xi nodded approvingly. “Keep this confidence from now on.”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh. “Isn’t this a bit too much?”

Wang Xi didn’t respond but looked towards Liu Wanwan, who didn’t hesitate to say, “Not at all! Ran Ge, when you’re cocky, you’re incredibly handsome!”

Even as he got into the car, Ran Lin was still trying to figure out if that was a compliment or not.

Meanwhile, Lu Yiyao and Huo Yuntao had already parted ways. Like Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao was rushing to Shanghai, while Huo Yuntao continued with the premiere’s schedule, heading to the media screening.

The production team had arranged to show the first episode and the ultimate trailer of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> at the screening, allowing the media to see it ten days before the audience. In return, they were expected to write articles and generate buzz for the show.

When Huo Yuntao arrived at the screening, the first episode was almost over. In the dim light, he managed to find Li Ruifeng, the executive of his entertainment company, who had brought him there. Fortunately, Li Ge had saved him a seat, so he quickly sat down and immersed himself in the show.

But the first episode ended after just ten minutes, featuring only a few shots of Lu Yiyao and none of Ran Lin.

Huo Yuntao almost wanted to groan in frustration when the screen flashed—the ultimate trailer was starting.

The first scene was the three characters swearing brotherhood, their vow nearly shaking the plum garden.

Huo Yuntao’s attention was instantly captured, forgetting his surroundings and the fact that it was just a screening, completely engrossed in the world of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.

The trailer was a whirlwind of intricate martial arts, undercurrents, youthful passion, and pure heartedness. Swords were stained with blood, hearts with emotion; as the blood cooled and the feelings broke, so did the swords…

Even after the trailer ended, Huo Yuntao was still deeply moved. The editing was so sharp and intense, leaving no room for breath until the final snowy gaze in the plum garden.

He found it almost impossible to connect the Fang Xian from the trailer with the Ran Lin he had just formally met. Though they shared the same face, they had completely different auras. If Lu Yiyao had fallen for Fang Xian, he would have understood better because the person on the screen shone so brightly.

The lights came back on, and the media clapped politely and sincerely.

“How come you’re so late?” Li Ruifeng, familiar with Huo Yuntao, chatted casually. “You almost missed even the trailer.”

Young Master Huo’s attendance was entirely driven by personal sentiment, and whether he saw the first episode, or the trailer wouldn’t impact anyone else but him. However, Li Ruifeng knew he was keen to get a taste.

Huo Yuntao, recognizing the tease, didn’t mind and directly asked, “Was the first episode good?”

Li Ruifeng thought for a moment and replied objectively, “The first thirty minutes were brilliant, but the ten minutes after you arrived were somewhat lackluster.”

Huo Yuntao: 囧. His luck was really…

“But you saw the trailer, right? It’s certainly eye-catching.” Li Ruifeng continued, “If the show can deliver even sixty percent of that, it’s sure to be a hit.”

Huo Yuntao felt better, as if the praise and anticipation were for himself.

“What do you think of the actors?” Huo Yuntao asked with anticipation.

Li Fengrui knew he’d inquire about Lu Yiyao and didn’t hesitate to praise. “Tang Jingyu is a difficult character to grasp, but Lu Yiyao did well. Among young actors, he’s one of the few who’s genuinely talented and dedicated.”

“What about Fang Xian?” Huo Yuntao casually inquired, trying to sound nonchalant.

Li Ruifeng was a bit surprised that Huo Yuntao took an interest in such a minor actor, but since Fang Xian’s performance had left a deep impression, he was prepared to speak honestly when someone else spoke up first—

“He will steal the show.”

Huo Yuntao was taken aback, turning to the speaker sitting next to Li Fengrui.

The man appeared to be in his mid-thirties, cultured, and elegant, with a smile in his eyes. However, Huo Yuntao instinctively disliked him, similar to how he disliked most people in his father’s business circle. This man shared something with those people: they all hid behind a mask of smiles, never revealing their true intentions unless they chose to.

Li Fengrui, however, seemed to know the man and was surprised by his interjection. After a moment of astonishment, he eagerly introduced them: “Yuntao, this is President Ding from Armor City Pictures. President Ding, this is our…”

“Young Master Huo,” Ding Kai extended his hand, polite and cordial. “I’ve heard much about you.”

Huo Yuntao frowned reflexively. “I’ve just returned to the country.”

Ding Kai’s eyes flickered with amusement, smiling. “But your legend has been circulating in the industry. Should I say that?”

Huo Yuntao could be sure he was being underestimated. It wasn’t the first time, and given his youth and inexperience, he was aware of his own naivety. Even if he could put on an act, it was only convincing to the likes of his peers, not to seasoned players like Li Fengrui. Most people tended to underestimate him subtly, trying to conceal it. But President Ding was openly dismissive, not bothering to accommodate him at all.

Li Fengrui wasn’t pleased either.

After all, Huo Yuntao was the chairman’s son, and while they might criticize him behind closed doors, it was another matter entirely for outsiders to mock him.

Unexpectedly, before he could say anything, Huo Yuntao surprisingly continued the conversation, seriously asking, “What did you mean by ‘stealing the show’ earlier?”

Ding Kai raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback, expecting a frosty response, not an academic inquiry. But appreciating the unconventional approach, he indulged in further discussion. “The actor playing Fang Xian has a strong screen presence. Lu Yiyao isn’t bad either, but whenever the two share a scene, Fang Xian naturally overshadows Tang Jingyu without even trying. He just needs to fully commit to his role, and his performance will continue to suppress Tang Jingyu’s.”

Huo Yuntao frowned, partly disliking the idea of Lu Yiyao being overshadowed and partly because he hadn’t noticed it himself. “I didn’t feel that way?”

Expecting Ding Kai to elaborate, Huo Yuntao was surprised when he merely shrugged and smiled lightly. “It’s just an opinion, Young Master Huo. Feel free to disregard it. It’s not a professional stance.”

Huo Yuntao mentally rolled his eyes so hard they could have flipped his bangs—if it’s not professional, why the long speech!

Applause suddenly erupted again.

Huo Yuntao looked back to the front, realizing the director and screenwriter had emerged.

The venue quieted down once more, and the discussion between Huo Yuntao and President Ding naturally concluded. But Huo Yuntao couldn’t help glancing at Ding Kai occasionally.

Since returning to the country, he had met many people in the business world, willingly or otherwise. His father wanted him to be ready to take over the family business as soon as possible, so he forced himself to learn and adapt quickly.

He didn’t like Ding Kai, but he had to admit that the man had a certain authoritative presence, not the kind that deliberately elevates itself, but one that is confident and capable, making him seem all the more formidable the more casually he carries himself—a person who could make or break deals in a moment of laughter.

Huo Yuntao didn’t buy into the man’s substance, but he could learn a thing or two from his poise.

……

Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao optimistically thought they could start a three-day “sappy love journey,” but the schedule in Shanghai and Hangzhou was relentless. By the time they returned to their hotel rooms late at night, the hallways’ surveillance made them wary, and the two couldn’t manage a secret rendezvous.

On the evening of the event in Hangzhou, the creative team moved to Suzhou. Seeing that they wouldn’t meet again after the Suzhou press conference ended and would return to Beijing, then Lu Yiyao diving into his packed schedule, they both felt a bit unwilling to part.

It’s one thing for the cheese to be locked in the cabinet, but quite another to be barred from it even when the cabinet is open. What young blood could stand that!

The one thing Ran Lin was grateful for was impulsively going after Lu Yiyao the day before yesterday, at least managing to kiss him once. Or perhaps a few times. Anyway, it left him with something to reminisce about.

[I want to come see you.]

Lying on the hotel bed, Ran Lin read Lu Yiyao’s message, feeling both sweet and bitter.

It was clear that they were unmarried men, so why were they acting as if they were having an affair?

[Wang Xi and Wanwan are right next door, too risky.]

[AHHHHHHHH.gif]

Ran Lin looked at the screen full of screaming gophers, chuckling to himself.

After laughing, a spark of inspiration hit Ran Lin. He typed back, trying to suppress his amusement—[How about calling Third Brother over too?]

Lu Yiyao, faced with this suggestion, was incredulous—[Are you sure?]

Ran Lin—[Three people in one room, no risk of rumors. Otherwise, I really can only interact with you at the press conference. 😭]

Lu Yiyao—[What if I can’t hold back?]

Ran Lin—[Then drive¹, drive however you like.]

Lu Yiyao—[……]

Ran Lin—[Really, his presence won’t affect anything. I promise you can still drive¹.]

Lu Yiyao narrowed his eyes, deeply skeptical of this tempting proposal. But Ran Lin sounded so confident that he felt an itch to try…

Ten minutes later, in Ran Lin’s room.

“Good thing your suitcase is big enough, or it wouldn’t fit all this haha—”

Tang Xiaoyu wheeled around on his hoverboard, his bell-like laughter filling the room.

Lu Yiyao watched him despondently, any desire to “drive¹” completely extinguished.

¹They’re playfully bantering. Driving in this case is referring to “drive a car (vehicle)”, which is referring to driving Ran Lin’s hoverboard. However, it’s also a euphemism for sex/explicit content. So in this case, there’s actually a double meaning. Note: They’re not literally saying they’re going to have sex with a third person in the room, but more like, “Maybe we can get away with a little this and that (kissing) even with him there.”

As Tang Xiaoyu clumsily made his way to the entrance, Ran Lin quickly kissed Lu Yiyao and then said righteously, “You said, ‘Next time we meet, you’ll teach me.'”

Lu Yiyao sighed helplessly. “I was just saying it casually…”

Ran Lin stared at him intently. “I take everything you say seriously.”

Lu Yiyao was stunned, then suddenly jumped up and headed toward the entrance. “It’s about time I took over—”

The three of them “drove” all night.

Ran Lin thought it would be torturous to look but not touch, but it turned out it wasn’t. Even though he still wanted to kiss and hug, just watching Lu Yiyao made his heart full. It seemed like any difficult obstacle could be overcome; any convoluted path could be straightened.

Ran Lin suddenly realized that falling in love with someone could also bring courage.

……

On May 28^th, Beijing was drizzled with light rain all day, blurring the lines between the end of spring and the beginning of summer. The streets were washed clean and moist, and even the leaves were dusted off, revealing a long-missed green.

That night, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> premiered.

Ran Lin couldn’t watch it in front of the TV because Wang Xi had finally arranged a meeting with the most important investor for <Mint Green>.

“Aren’t we supposed to wait and see the reaction to <Sword of Fallen Flowers> first?” Ran Lin felt it was a bit sudden.

Unexpectedly, Wang Xi was also surprised. “I don’t know. His assistant called me and said they finally had time. I couldn’t just push away the opportunity. Many are eyeing this role.”

Ran Lin didn’t ask further. The investor’s time is always right. A chance from them is luck, and whether it’s sudden or not is your problem; on their side, there’s always a plan.

The dinner coincided with the official airing of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> at 7:30 p.m. As the drama began, Wang Xi and Ran Lin arrived at a modernly decorated club.

Unlike last time they met with Lei Baishi, whom they knew “pursued art and wine”, this time before leaving, Ran Lin asked Wang Xi about Ding Kai’s style. Other than “pragmatic”, she only had “inscrutable” to describe him. Ding Kai’s “pragmatism” was reserved for himself; it was hard for outsiders to guess his moves before he made them. What might seem risky at first often turns out to be the most prudent choice in hindsight.

On this late May evening, the air was warm with a hint of coolness. Ran Lin wore a simple but thoughtful white shirt paired with khaki trousers, slightly tapered at the ankles to accentuate his long, straight legs. His hair wasn’t overly styled; it was just washed and blown dry—formal but not stiff, fresh but not forced.

He and Wang Xi arrived at the booked room first, with Ding Kai yet to arrive. The room was spacious, but the round table wasn’t large, estimated for six people at most, which was sufficient—according to Wang Xi, it might only be Ding Kai and possibly an assistant attending.

“They won’t have much in common,” Ran Lin joked about Ding Kai and Lei Baishi in the privacy of the room.

Wang Xi laughed, nodding in agreement. “Definitely not. They’re from different worlds.”

Lei Baishi liked grandeur and was passionate about art and brotherhood.

In contrast, Ding Kai was a businessman through and through, concerned only with maximizing profits from his projects.

If these two sat together, Lei Baishi would surely find Ding Kai too philistine, while Ding might consider Lei Baishi naively idealistic.

Ran Lin suddenly wondered: if not Lei Baishi, but Ding Kai had invested in <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. Would he still have secured the second male lead? The more he thought about it, the more implausible it seemed because the <Sword of Fallen Flowers> project was actually risky. In the realm of TV dramas, martial arts stories were almost synonymous with failure, and even with the participation of Chen Qizheng and Song Mang, it was still their first foray into TV dramas. If Ding Kai was as pragmatic as Wang Xi described, he probably wouldn’t take the risk to invest.

“Sorry for being late.” Ding Kai entered the room himself, apologizing as soon as he stepped in. He was indeed late by four minutes according to the agreed time.

But this apology caught Wang Xi off guard, and she hurriedly stood up to respond. “Not at all. We arrived early.”

Ran Lin also stood up cautiously. “President Ding.”

Before understanding the situation fully, he dared not speak more.

“Ran Lin?” Ding Kai looked over mildly.

Ran Lin quickly nodded. “Yes, I’m Ran Lin.”

Although President Ding was in his thirties, he looked much younger. He had a well-maintained figure that fit perfectly in his tailored casual suit. He was understated yet stylish. His hair was short and neat, his demeanor relaxed yet astute, surprisingly handsome. If not for the occasional flicker of sharpness in his eyes, it would be hard to associate him with the profit-maximizing businessman Wang Xi mentioned.

After confirming Ran Lin’s identity, Ding Kai nodded and returned his attention to Wang Xi, carrying a polite smile. “I’ve been abroad recently and just got back.”

In fact, Wang Xi knew that the other party had already been back in the country for over a month. However, when someone extends a courtesy, there’s no reason not to accept it graciously. “To have a meeting with President Ding is our fortune. Please have a seat.”

Ding Kai took the principal seat, and Wang Xi had someone open a carefully selected bottle of red wine to let it breathe in the decanter—she remembered from last time that he had a preference for red wine. Soon, the dishes they had pre-ordered began to arrive. Throughout, Wang Xi kept making small talk with Ding Kai, who was neither cold nor overly enthusiastic, just listening and occasionally responding—enough to be polite.

Ran Lin watched this, feeling increasingly unsure. A person even Wang Xi couldn’t see through was even more inscrutable to him. At this point, he just hoped the dishes would come quickly and that President Ding would set a tone for the meal so he would know how to act and make a good impression. Otherwise, even someone as diplomatic as Wang Xi might run out of things to say.

Suddenly, Ran Lin found himself missing Lei Baishi.

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 58

After returning from Shanghai, Ran Lin first read the script of <Mint Green> and made some brief notes. Instead of diving deep into the intricacies right away, he decided to read the original novel.

The novel <Mint Green> wasn’t too long, totaling 170,000 words. Unlike the nostalgic school themes popular on the big screen these days, this novel was set in the present, characterized by the restlessness and loss unique to the information explosion era, as well as the self-awareness, bravery, and openness of the new generation.

The main storyline was about love, but it didn’t shy away from the various issues in current education, as well as the impact of family and society on young people who were just starting to experience the world. The authenticity of the environmental details made this love story more delicate and textured. Overall, it was more about a journey of self-growth than love. Without glossing over or wallowing in despair, it genuinely portrayed youth, resonating strongly with readers, especially the younger generation.

The author’s skilled writing was evident, and the screenplay adapted the essence of the novel brilliantly, capturing both the bittersweetness of first love and the courage to face the future. The former was delicate, the latter was passionate, and the screenplay also incorporated clever, fitting humor that didn’t overshadow the main story but added beauty like small, lovely waves.

While reading the script, Ran Lin felt it was a compelling story, but it was after reading the novel that he understood its popularity. Revisiting the script after the novel, he appreciated the solid, beautiful adaptation even more.

No wonder Wang Xi mentioned that many financiers and actors were interested, yet opportunities were scarce.

<Mint Green> isn’t a typical commercial blockbuster, but youth films have their advantages—they don’t burn money. Less financial risk means lower box office pressure, and if marketing and word of mouth are good, a small investment can yield a large return. Plus, the novel itself carries IP popularity.

For young actors, especially those who rely on looks and popularity, such films offer a chance to showcase acting skills. A decent performance that doesn’t feel awkward on the big screen can be marketed as a transformative effort. If the performance is particularly good, it can solidify a reputation for acting talent, standing out among peers who might not yet boast about their acting skills.

Just like after <Beihai Tree>, no one said Lu Yiyao relied only on his looks anymore. The narrative became, “Despite having the looks, he relies on his talent.” Regardless of how much truth or exaggeration there is, when repeated often enough, it forms a lasting impression.

And a youth commercial film with literary qualities like <Mint Green>, even more promising than pure art films like <Beihai Tree>, offers both prestige and the potential for box office success.

So, the only challenge Ran Lin faced was, according to the script, the male lead is a goofy youth who rides a hoverboard to class.

Goofy, Ran Lin could do.

Hoverboarding, however, left Ran Lin baffled and clueless.

So, throughout April, aside from reading the script, getting into character, practicing lines, and acting out scenes in the mirror, he was riding a hoverboard purchased online, zipping around the apartment building in the dead of night.

When buying the hoverboard, the store owner thoughtfully recommended a full set of protective gear—the kind kids wear when learning to roller skate—helmet, elbow pads, knee pads. Ran Lin thought his balance was good enough not to need them, but after a few falls that bruised his legs, he promptly left a heartfelt positive review for the store and then dutifully suited up as a safety baby.

When Lu Yiyao sent over a photo, Ran Lin was downstairs taking a breezy ride on his hoverboard.

He naturally stopped and, standing on the hoverboard, facing the cool April night breeze, opened the photo sent by Teacher Lu.

The photo showed two buddies, arms over each other’s shoulders. One was naturally Lu Yiyao, and the other was a youth Ran Lin didn’t recognize. The stranger had single eyelids, thin lips, and a healthy complexion. Interestingly, while each of his features looked quite ordinary alone—only his straight, handsome nose stood out—when put together, they formed an unexpectedly harmonious and roguishly handsome face.

Perhaps influenced by his friend, the Lu Yiyao in the photo didn’t have his usual upright and stern demeanor. Instead, he looked like a youth who had fallen in with the wrong crowd, intriguing Ran Lin.

It was a selfie that seemed casual yet was anything but.

The stranger was casual, laughing heartily and carelessly without even looking properly at the camera.

Teacher Lu was anything but casual, perfectly angled, with just the right shadows, a handsome smile, and expressive eyes.

[This is me and Huo Yuntao.]

Following the photo, Lu Yiyao sent a brief explanation.

Ran Lin guessed as much without needing the clarification.

Ran Lin—[You took it, right?]

Lu Yiyao—[You can tell even without seeing my arms?]

Ran Lin—[Don’t need to look at the arms; your face is enough. Obviously, it’s captured at your most beautiful moment.]

Lu Yiyao—[That’s not a sufficient reason. Even if he took it, the effect would be the same.]

Ran Lin—[…Please spare me some of your confidence, just a little, and I could soar to the skies.]

Lu Yiyao—[ 🤗]

Lu Yiyao—[Did you catch some immortal vibes?]

Ran Lin—[Are you still together?]

Lu Yiyao—[…Can you give a warning when you’re changing the subject?]

Ran Lin—[You didn’t give a heads-up when you took advantage.]

Lu Yiyao—[You win.gif]

Lu Yiyao—[He arrived by plane during the day, knew I was free, and came to see me in the evening.]

Ran Lin—[Your place?]

Lu Yiyao—[Yeah, my own apartment.]

Lu Yiyao—[[Map Location] Be careful when you come over. Three paparazzi are staking out regularly.]

Ran Lin—[…]

Lu Yiyao—[Save it, it’ll come in handy eventually. 😊]

Ran Lin—[You’re no longer the upright and stern Teacher Lu I knew…]

Lu Yiyao—[You might have had some unscientific misunderstandings about me from the very beginning.]

Ran Lin was utterly at a loss with Lu Yiyao.

Ever since he… well, seemed to have taken a different turn, he had been racing down the road of flirting with exceptional speed. The “naturally flirtatious” trait he once had was now fully evolved and upgraded. This evolution wasn’t very obvious face-to-face, but once in WeChat mode, it was as if his awkwardness and pressure were alleviated by “text communication”. Lu Yiyao’s skills were completely unleashed, striking right to the point.

Lu Yiyao—[Still practicing on the hoverboard?]

Lu Yiyao knew that if Ran Lin had no engagements, he would be practicing at this time every evening.

Ran Lin—[Yeah, I’ve basically mastered it now, striving for perfection.]

Lu Yiyao—[Be careful.]

Ran Lin—[Don’t worry.]

Lu Yiyao—[Next time we meet, you’ll have to teach me.]

Ran Lin unconsciously smiled, a vague warmth flowing through his heart, as if what was agreed upon wasn’t just about teaching hoverboard, but a promise—[Okay.]

……

In the blink of an eye, April passed, but Wang Xi still hadn’t managed to meet with investors. Ran Lin, however, had become extremely proficient in riding his hoverboard, darting between flower beds, green belts, cars, and bicycles below the building as if he was in a realm of his own—although occasionally, the hoverboard’s battery would run out halfway, leading to the awkward situation of “going with the vehicle carrying the person, returning with the person carrying the vehicle.”

Wang Xi was unaware of Ran Lin’s hoverboard practice and assumed he was diligently working on scripts at home. So, on May Day, when she called, she said, “Put the script aside for now. I’ll take you for some facial treatments and maintenance the next few days. The publicity for the show is about to pick up.”

The “publicity” she referred to was for the official promotion of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.

On May 1^st, the official Weibo of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> posted—

[<Sword of Fallen Flowers> is officially scheduled for release and will premiere on May 28^th on @XX Television @XX Television! Long missed chivalrous tenderness, poetic and picturesque of the martial world, plots and intrigues, all succumb to a flourishing sword in the end! The ultimate poster is coming, and the Fallen Flowers group awaits you in the martial world! @Chen Qizheng @Song Mang @Lu Yiyao @Xi Ruohan @Ran Lin @Tang Xiaoyu @…]

The Weibo post included nine posters, featuring main and supporting characters like Tang Jingyu, Zhao Bu Yao, Fang Xian, Xu Chongfei, and Li’er, among four other significant supporting roles.

The post wasn’t just about releasing the ultimate posters; it marked the end of the pre-heating phase and the official launch of the promotional campaign for <Sword of Fallen Flowers>!

Shortly after the poster was released, the production team released a short trailer.

The trailer they chose features three characters taking a brotherly oath, showcasing Fang Xian’s carefree character questioning why they chose a plum garden yet see no plum blossoms, followed by the trio swearing an oath to heaven and earth with dramatic, rapid cuts. The juxtaposition of light-hearted moments and intense blood-pumping scenes created a significant contrast, fully capturing the audience’s attention and setting high drama tension.

Consequently, the discussion around <Sword of Fallen Flowers> really heated up. The drama’s promotional efforts and the trailer’s texture brought positive word of mouth. By mid-month, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> had become one of the most anticipated and promising shows in the pre-summer release slot.

By May 18^th, with ten days until the premiere, all the main actors had gathered in Beijing to attend the premiere ceremony. This so-called “grand ceremony” was essentially a major press conference. Since there were multiple press events planned in different locations, this first one was designed to be the most grandiose and large-scale, featuring the full cast and crew and inviting the most industry and media personnel.

Ran Lin was groomed by Wang Xi a week in advance, looking fresh and handsome, and arrived at the ceremony venue a few hours early. The process and content of the press conference, including questions the host might ask and games to be played, had already been sent to the artists’ teams to avoid any mishaps, given the large media presence.

Most of the creators lived in Beijing and arrived on time. By the time Ran Lin reached the backstage lounge, only two significant supporting characters had arrived.

The creators who would be on stage were the eight actors from the nine drama photos released on the official Weibo, with one male supporting actor absent due to commitments with another drama. The producers, director, scriptwriter, and others would also be present to discuss their creative intent and artistic pursuits, as the audience and media were primarily interested in star interactions.

When the lounge door opened again, Ran Lin’s heart involuntarily raced, only to see a “fish head” poking in.

“Long time, no see!” Tang Xiaoyu’s voice entered even faster than his body.

Ran Lin and two other actors stood up to greet him, and Tang Xiaoyu warmly hugged each one. However, the hugs for the other two were more polite, while the one for Ran Lin was more indulgent, to the point that Ran Lin always felt his shirt would get wrinkled.

Tang Xiaoyu was also wearing a more formal shirt today, but unlike Ran Lin’s light solid color, it was striped. It showed respect for the event while still retaining vibrancy, matching his usual public image.

“What have you been busy with lately?” Even though he said it had been a long time, there was no sense of alienation in Tang Xiaoyu’s words; it was as if they had just parted.

His agent was obviously used to it, nonchalantly sitting aside to rest, letting his artist freely chat around.

Ran Lin glanced at the door where Wang Xi was chatting warmly with some staff member, seemingly unconcerned about him. That’s when he whispered to Tang Xiaoyu, “I’m sad because I can’t get busy.”

Tang Xiaoyu glanced at him and lowered his voice. “Come on, didn’t <Mint Green> approach you?”

Ran Lin raised an eyebrow, not hiding anything. “You’re quite well-informed, aren’t you?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked at him unbearably. “How can you still be so naive? There are no secrets in this circle.”

Ran Lin felt silly, wondering who was actually the naive one between them.

“If you were really that well-informed, you’d know it’s not certain yet,” Ran Lin honestly replied.

Tang Xiaoyu nodded. “Indeed, many people are eyeing that one. If it wasn’t for my schedule being full, I might have competed with you.”

“Oh.” Ran Lin smirked with a bit of malice. “You, I’m not afraid of.”

Tang Xiaoyu was frustrated. “Can you not? It’s been months since you wrapped up. Can you move on from your ‘Second Brother’ persona? I’m not Xu Chongfei who you can easily bully.”

Ran Lin believed that.

Tang Xiaoyu was indeed more easily bullied than Xu Chongfei.

“But there’s still <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.'” Tang Xiaoyu brought the topic back. “If this drama explodes, your <Mint Green> is almost a sure thing.”

Ran Lin sighed, with a bit of hope yet not too optimistic. “I hope so.”

“I think it’s about right. Not to mention the drama, Lu Yiyao’s popularity alone is enough to heat up the ratings,” Tang Xiaoyu remarked, then suddenly remembered. “Oh right, I saw Lu Yiyao when I came here.”

Ran Lin was surprised. “He has arrived?”

“Yeah,” Tang Xiaoyu replied naturally, followed by a light sigh. “But he has his own separate lounge. I only saw his silhouette. Didn’t get to speak to him.”

Ran Lin was momentarily stunned.

Having chatted with Lu Yiyao so enthusiastically recently, he’d blurred the lines of their status difference. Being so suddenly reminded—even knowing it was a fact—a slight, indescribable bitterness emerged in his heart.

Suddenly, his phone vibrated twice.

Without any reason, Ran Lin knew it was Lu Yiyao. The vibration transferred from his palm to his heart, accelerating his heartbeat.

This was different from before; earlier conversations were just simple long-distance chats—no pressure, no awkwardness, no nervousness—because he knew the other person wouldn’t suddenly appear. But now, with the spatial distance so close, even if he couldn’t see the other person, just thinking about him being nearby made him feel unusual.

Ran Lin felt that this reaction could be summarized in one word—cowardly.

[I’m here. It’s inconvenient to come over. See you on stage later 😳.]

Ran Lin stared at the shy red-faced emoticon, his face a mixture of emotions, and his erratic heartbeat miraculously returned to normal.

After a while, the staff came to inform them that the ceremony was about to begin, and they should head to the stage.

Ran Lin took a deep breath, adjusted his clothes, and followed the main creative team to the “battlefield.”

……

Lu Yiyao mentioned “see you on stage”, but actually, they saw each other while waiting to go on stage.

And it wasn’t through any dramatic coincidence or accident; just as Ran Lin finished adjusting his clothes and turned his head, his gaze met Lu Yiyao’s straight on.

Lu Yiyao stood two steps away, with Tang Xiaoyu in between them. Lu Yiyao’s gaze crossed over Tang Xiaoyu and just looked at him with a smile, seemingly for a while, so when their eyes met, the smile deepened naturally at the corners of his mouth.

It had been three months, yet there was no feeling of a long-awaited reunion. The confession in the backyard of that villa felt as if it had happened just yesterday.

Ran Lin was so captivated that he didn’t come back to reality until Tang Xiaoyu nudged him—it was time to go on stage.

“Please welcome the ‘Fallen Flowers Group’ to the stage—”

As the host called out, the eight actors took the stage in a single file.

Before them, the producer and director had already appeared to open the ceremony. When the actors took the stage, everyone lined up in a single file, with the producer, director, and lead actors in the middle, the second and third male leads to the left and right, followed by the other supporting actors.

The stage lights were bright, dazzling, and hot. Ran Lin stood right next to Lu Yiyao, but when the host interviewed him, Lu Yiyao, who was speaking eloquently to the host, seemed to be a great distance away.

“In this drama, I play ‘Tang Jingyu’. This character actually has a dark attribute, as he bears the revenge of his family’s annihilation, so…”

Even though Ran Lin always teased Lu Yiyao for being narcissistic, he had to admit the man was really good-looking.

Even just seeing the side profile under the stage lights revealed a beautifully contoured face.

“Whether ‘Tang Jingyu’ is dark or not, I think besides our leading lady, ‘Fang Xian’ has the most say…”

In a moment of distraction, the host had already finished interviewing Xi Ruohan and passed the topic to Ran Lin.

Ran Lin steadied himself, forcing his mind out of the scattered thoughts. With a smile and a deep breath, he took the microphone and half-joked, half-teased, “Tang Jingyu is really too dark.”

Ran Lin’s complaints came out very naturally, as if all his grievances could fly right out of the speakers.

Laughter erupted from both the stage and the audience.

After his lament, Ran Lin became more serious, his voice clearer. “In the drama, I play ‘Fang Xian’, the young master of the Fang Clan. ‘Tang Jingyu’ and ‘Xu Chongfei’ are my sworn brothers. Initially, we shared the same ideals and pursued a conspiracy together, but later…” Ran Lin glanced at Chen Qizheng and restrained his laughter. “Later the director wouldn’t let us reveal too much, so all I can say is if ‘Tang Jingyu’ has 70 points of darkness, 69 of those points are on me.”

The host smoothly passed the question to Lu Yiyao. “What do you think about ‘Fang Xian’s’ accusation, ‘Jingyu’?”

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment, then suddenly sighed deeply. “I can’t make up for it in this lifetime. Maybe in the next one.”

Before the host could speak, Xi Ruohan, who had been holding a microphone, sighed. “I suddenly feel like I’m a third wheel.”

Tang Xiaoyu, ever ready for humor, moved closer to Xi Ruohan’s microphone and said, “That should be my line…”

Laughter erupted from the audience once again.

This back-and-forth banter was much more interesting than the previous dry interview, finally heating up the atmosphere.

After the interview was the game segment. Seeing that the props on stage were almost ready, the host announced loudly, “Let’s begin our game segment. Please welcome our ‘Fallen Flowers Group’ back to the stage!”

This time, only the eight actors returned to the stage without the producer and director. The host, holding a draw bucket, announced the rules. “The first game is a classic ‘You Describe, I Guess,’ but before we start, we need to draw lots to form teams…”

The draw bucket was actually a colorful paper box with a hole on top. Lu Yiyao was the first to reach in and pulled out a ball labeled “2”.

Xi Ruohan was the second to go and drew a “1”.

Ran Lin was the third and also drew a “2”.

Seeing the number, Ran Lin froze for a moment, only realizing what had happened when the host congratulated the “Love-Hate Duo” for being formed—he and Lu Yiyao were in the same team!

Well, with only four teams, the odds weren’t too low.

Ran Lin put down the ball and walked over to Lu Yiyao, whose smile was as bright as the colorful box.

Soon, the teams were formed, and the first pair, Xi Ruohan and Tang Xiaoyu, began.

The game’s concept was simple: one partner describes a word without using the word itself or any part of it, and the other guesses. They had 90 seconds to guess as many words as possible, with the team guessing the most words declared the winner.

Xi Ruohan and Tang Xiaoyu turned out to be a black hole for this game; the former explained, and the latter guessed, managing only four words in 90 seconds. Towards the end, Xi Ruohan was nearly frantic, and if not for the audience and media watching, Ran Lin suspected she might have bitten Tang Xiaoyu.

“It seems the score wasn’t very ideal.” The host added fuel to the fire, eager to keep the competitive atmosphere lively. “Now, let’s welcome the second team!”

“You describe, I guess.” Without using the microphone, Lu Yiyao whispered to Ran Lin.

This kind of whispering was quite normal; Tang Xiaoyu and Xi Ruohan had also murmured to each other before going on stage, as it was typical to discuss strategies with your teammate in a group game.

But guilty conscience made Ran Lin’s ears inexplicably hot, and he dared not look into Lu Yiyao’s eyes. He nodded in a fluster and entered the game zone.

Compared to him, Lu Yiyao was much more composed and in a very good mood.

Because even if he and Ran Lin ended up together, the opportunity to interact so openly in a public setting might not come often, so he treasured it.

In a single breath, Lu Yiyao felt the world quieten down, and all he could see and hear was Ran Lin standing in front of him.

Ran Lin was wearing a light-colored shirt that day, looking particularly gentle and refined, coupled with his pale, youthful face.

But Lu Yiyao knew it was deceiving.

This guy was far from harmless; in fact, he had quite the impact.

“The timer starts now—”

With the host’s words, his arm swung down forcefully!

Ran Lin immediately focused on the word board above Lu Yiyao’s head, his mouth already moving. “It’s a four-character idiom, describing the relationship between two people…”

Lu Yiyao almost immediately responded, “Love stronger than gold!”

Ran Lin: “Not love, but friendship!”

Lu Yiyao guessed again, “Go through fire and water for each other!”

Ran Lin: “Listen to me! It describes a very mild friendship…”

Lu Yiyao: “Fair-weather friends?”

“The last two words are correct! But it’s not ‘fair-weather…'” Ran Lin looked at his “heartthrob” expectantly.

Lu Yiyao: “Friends through life and death!”

Ran Lin collapsed. “Mild!”

Lu Yiyao finally got it. “A friendship between gentlemen!”

Ran Lin felt like crying when he heard those four words.

The phrase wasn’t difficult at all; the real challenge was having such a lack of coordination between them!

The audience was already in stitches, especially when “Love stronger than gold” came out, making numerous media people want to rush up and interview Lu Yiyao about his thought process.

With just three words guessed in 90 seconds, and after mocking Xi Ruohan, Ran Lin could almost hear the sound of his own face being slapped.

The entire premiere ceremony lasted about ninety minutes and ended warmly with all the creators singing the theme song together.

Next was a smaller “media screening” for the press, which the director and screenwriter would attend while the actors wouldn’t, meaning the end of their duties once they stepped off the stage.

But this was only the first day.

Tomorrow, the day after, and the day following, there would be three more premiere press conferences in different cities. Both Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao would be flying continuously.

Although there had been plenty of interactions on stage, the two hadn’t had much opportunity for private conversation. Moreover, Ran Lin hadn’t seen Lu Yiyao since coming off stage, feeling somewhat lost.

Just as he returned to the dressing room, Liu Wanwan handed him a phone, saying, “Ran Ge, someone called for you just now. They didn’t say who they were, just that you should call them back.”

Ran Lin took the phone, looking at the unfamiliar number in confusion.

Wang Xi, thinking he might recognize it, was surprised by his reaction. “You don’t know who it is?”

Ran Lin genuinely didn’t know, but intuition told him it wasn’t a spam or scam call. He casually walked to a corner of the dressing room and redialed the number.

It was picked up after one ring, but no one spoke.

Ran Lin, puzzled, greeted with a “hello.”

Finally, a voice came through. “It’s me.”

Ran Lin was stunned. It was unmistakably Lu Yiyao’s voice on the line, but why was he using a different phone? And even if Liu Wanwan couldn’t immediately recognize Lu Yiyao’s voice, she should have found it familiar.

Ran Lin glanced at Wang Xi, who was curiously looking his way, and restrained himself from responding out loud.

The other side seemed to sense his hesitation, whispering, “Is it safe to talk?”

Ran Lin immediately understood what Lu Yiyao was really asking about the safety of the conversation.

“Yeah, go ahead.” Ran Lin tried to sound and act as naturally as possible.

Lu Yiyao seemed relieved and continued, “This phone belongs to Huo Yuntao. He was the one who called you earlier, without any legitimate reason. He just wanted to see you because he was here today. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ve already dealt with him.”

Ran Lin cringed a bit, thinking that “dealt with” sounded ominously like a crime.

But Huo Yuntao was cautious. Hearing that the person answering wasn’t Ran Lin, he didn’t even reveal his name. Though even if he had, Wang Xi would probably have been thrilled to connect with him.

But putting himself in Huo Yuntao’s shoes, he’d also want to meet the person his friend had praised so highly, especially now that they were so close.

Aside from curiosity, there was probably worry too. Who knows if this guy is reliable or not, especially since he’s already led a friend astray.

To be honest, Ran Lin didn’t want to meet Huo Yuntao, partly because of the awkwardness of the situation and partly because he was afraid. This feeling was akin to a boyfriend meeting his girlfriend’s circle of friends—a kind of “inspection” pressure.

Lu Yiyao knew he wouldn’t want to meet, probably having been informed by a friend backstage, and had taken action first, now waiting on the phone to explain himself.

Suddenly, Ran Lin felt especially remorseful.

Lu Yiyao didn’t owe him anything. Being the one loved first, then becoming the pursuer, was already difficult enough, and now he had to “deal with” his own friend for him.

If he were Lu Yiyao, he’d also want to proudly show off the person he liked to his friends, hoping they’d see the good in them as well.

But if he were Huo Yuntao, he’d definitely shake Lu Yiyao by the shoulders, questioning what was so good about someone who couldn’t even dare to face up and support him!

……

“It’s over. You’re beyond salvation.” Huo Yuntao let go of Lu Yiyao’s shoulders and slumped into the sofa in despair. “You’re practically bewitched right now.”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head, pondering, then responded lightly, “Someone told me a long time ago that love is indeed like being bewitched.”

Huo Yuntao came to the premiere ceremony today with a formal invitation from the organizers. Originally, the invitation was for the executives of his entertainment company, but Huo Yuntao managed to snag an extra spot for himself. Before coming, he had even touched base with Lu Yiyao, essentially coming to support his friend.

Lu Yiyao appreciated it, so as soon as he came off the stage, he made a call to his friend and, following directions, navigated to this private lounge to meet his old friend before flying to the next city.

The room was secure, so as soon as he closed the door, his friend confessed to calling Ran Lin with an unannounced number.

Lu Yiyao wanted to kick him.

“I’ve told you so many times, he’d feel awkward seeing you now.” Lu Yiyao understood Huo Yuntao’s curiosity but felt making an unsolicited call to Ran Lin was inappropriate.

Huo Yuntao rolled his eyes in exasperation. “It’s been three months since you confessed, and you’ve been chasing him for three months. He’s not totally uninterested in you, so why keep you hanging? Is it fun for him?”

Lu Yiyao patiently explained, “I’ve been busy, and we haven’t had a chance to meet in these three months.”

“Please.” Huo Yuntao scoffed. “You have time to meet me but not to ask him out?”

Lu Yiyao frowned reflexively and fell silent.

Huo Yuntao, never one to mince words with his old friend, bluntly said, “You’re just trying to let time dilute his guilt, right? But it’s unnecessary. He was the one who led you astray. Even if you were deeply closeted, you wouldn’t have come out without him. His guilt is sealed for life. If he’s a real man, he should be doubly good to you, not avoiding you.”

Lu Yiyao was getting a headache from Huo Yuntao’s relentless approach, which typically involved overpowering you with sheer forcefulness, whether he was right or wrong.

“And me,” Huo Yuntao continued passionately, standing up. “Am I so fearsome or harmful? I just wanted to see him; such a humble request. I’ve gone out of my way to meet him, why can’t he satisfy me…”

Ring, ring, ring—

Huo Yuntao’s distinctive monotone ringtone sounded in Lu Yiyao’s hand.

Lu Yiyao, seeing the familiar number, paused for two seconds before answering. “What’s up?”

Huo Yuntao was confused, wondering why Lu Yiyao answered his own phone so smoothly.

“No problem? What did you tell Wang Xi? Oh, oh… Our location is a bit hard to find… Just keep walking inside, turn left at the end… Yes, don’t hang up, I’ll guide you. Otherwise, you’ll definitely get lost…”

For the first time, Huo Yuntao saw his friend being so gentle and suddenly felt a pang of sorrow, as if his decade-long friendship was overshadowed by someone else’s year.

After about a few minutes, while Lu Yiyao was still on the phone, there was a knock on the lounge door.

Huo Yuntao darted ahead of Lu Yiyao to open the door, and there stood Ran Lin, phone in hand.

“Hello.” Ran Lin hung up the phone and smiled at Huo Yuntao. “I’m Ran Lin.”

Huo Yuntao was stunned for a few seconds before inviting Ran Lin in and securing the door. Once assured of privacy, he turned around, coughed lightly, and introduced himself. “I’m Huo Yuntao.”

Before Ran Lin could speak, he raised an eyebrow and muttered, “I thought you weren’t coming?”

Ran Lin had only seen photos of Huo Yuntao and was surprised to find his real-life presence less intimidating than anticipated. In fact, he seemed less imposing than the photos suggested.

Huo Yuntao, being a friend of Lu Yiyao, couldn’t be that daunting, Ran Lin thought—probably just another naive guy.

“I never said I wouldn’t come,” Ran Lin countered calmly, pointing to Lu Yiyao. “It was him who immediately said on the phone that I shouldn’t bother coming, that he’d ‘taken care of you’ already.”

Lu Yiyao was speechless, feeling like his sincere efforts had backfired spectacularly.

Huo Yuntao was displeased and sided with Lu Yiyao. “Can you have a little conscience? It’s not him who’s afraid of me. It’s you stopping him.”

“It’s last month’s me who was afraid of you, not this month’s me. So it was fine for him to block me last month, but not this month.”

Huo Yuntao had never seen such a stubborn defense. “Is there any difference between last month’s you and this month’s you?”

“Yes,” Ran Lin clarified more clearly than ever since liking Lu Yiyao. “Last month’s me was a jerk who would flee after causing trouble, but this month I’m a good man.”

Huo Yuntao challenged, “Good in what way?”

Ran Lin stood tall. “Responsible.”

Huo Yuntao pressed, “Responsible how?!”

“Hey,” Ran Lin suddenly turned to Lu Yiyao without warning and asked softly, “Do you still want to pursue me?”

Lu Yiyao, already dazed, felt a pang of sadness at the question, “I’ve always been pursuing you.”

Ran Lin’s lips slowly curled into a smile, giving Lu Yiyao a look filled with charm. “Congratulations, you succeeded.”

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 57

The bitter cold wind couldn’t penetrate the thick walls of the nanny car, but the slivers of air that crept in through the cracks of the doors and windows were enough to chill Yao Hong’s heart. She had made many plans for Lu Yiyao, even accounting for his insistence on “being himself”, and had considered what to do if one day Lu Yiyao offended the financiers or what to do if he dated a female star in the circle, but she had never considered his sexual orientation.

She had been in this circle for twenty years and was no stranger to homosexuality; there were artists, financiers, makeup artists, stylists, screenwriters, hosts, models, and more who were gay. Perhaps because the circle itself was more open, it seemed like there was a higher proportion of gay people compared to other industries.

But no matter how open the play was, it could never be openly acknowledged; once it became public, the tolerance for it dropped to zero.

Many artists suddenly flopped, perhaps with the audience never knowing what happened, only feeling that they disappeared from public view. But behind the scenes, it might be due to a fallout with a powerful “resource backer”; others directly caused trouble or scandals, entertaining the masses with their controversies. Even powerful companies couldn’t recover from such situations, as no one would risk their capital on such individuals. The companies could only “shelve” these people; some artists would retire, and others might return after the controversy dies down, but they would never regain their former glory.

But the pursuit of love and desire is human nature, and even the best teams and the most capable agents can’t control it. Artists are people first and stars second. If it were controllable, many artists’ relationships would be nipped in the bud, and there wouldn’t be situations where companies and teams are busy with PR damage control after a secret relationship is revealed.

Yao Hong believed Lu Yiyao understood all this and knew what he was getting into and the risks involved when he chose to be honest about himself, or, rather, when he started liking Ran Lin. So she swallowed her initial rush of cost-benefit analysis and lecturing, not wanting to add more burdens to an already stressed artist.

If possible, she wanted to be someone who could help alleviate the other’s burden.

However, looking at her own artist animatedly talking about falling in love, Yao Hong felt her worries might be superfluous—at least in the early stages of love, all thoughts of future risks and troubles are pushed aside for the joy of being in love. Even if there is a burden, it’s the sweet, almost silly kind of worry like, “Why doesn’t he love me?”

Before Lu Yiyao, the most successful actress Yao Hong had managed decided to marry, have children, and retire at the peak of her career after winning a prestigious award, turning into a legendary goddess in the circle.

While people have their own aspirations and Yao Hong respected and blessed her, as an agent, she felt a sense of regret because that girl was truly talented and could have had a longer artistic career.

That girl also confessed her love and intention to retire one winter night in the nanny car after a film festival.

Yao Hong felt she might be cursed by Cupid.

After much discussion, the conversation hadn’t touched on why he was rejected. Yao Hong sighed and brought her thoughts back to the present. Lu Yiyao’s animated expression suddenly stopped, his mind racing like a hamster wheel in overdrive.

The reason for the rejection was because Ran Lin thought he was straight and shouldn’t embark on this difficult path because of a momentary impulse or even a delusion.

The result of thinking for him was that the person didn’t even get to enjoy a bit of the joy of being confessed to, which made Lu Yiyao feel sorry.

But he couldn’t tell Yao Hong all this; she would explode.

“Rejection doesn’t need a reason. Of course, it’s because my charm isn’t enough.” Lu Yiyao slowly calmed himself down in his natural tone of voice.

Yao Hong, however, saw through it. “If you’re not going to tell me the truth, you shouldn’t have been honest with me from the start.”

Lu Yiyao was stunned but insisted. “I am telling the truth.”

Yao Hong looked at him skeptically. “First, your mind was racing just now. Don’t think I couldn’t tell; second, if your charm isn’t enough, then who’s is? Is he looking for someone as handsome as Pan An?”

“It’s not just about looks…”

“Even if it’s about looks, you’d still need to compete, but considering personality and character, you surpass all male artists of your age group, right?”

“……”

“Am I wrong?”

“You’re right, but if you keep going like this, Hong Jie, we can’t continue this conversation…”

You two have gone off-topic!

Li Tong looked out the window in despair, feeling as if a mother-son duo—a doting mother and a narcissistic child—were hand in hand, soaring to the skies, vowing to stand shoulder to shoulder with the moon.

“Forget it, Hong Jie, I’ll tell you the truth.” Realizing he couldn’t bluff his way through, Lu Yiyao decided to go all out. “He wasn’t gay to begin with, so he’s still hesitating.”

Yao Hong was stunned; her face was a picture of astonishment. She had thought of many possibilities, even the slightly sordid guess that “Ran Lin had a long-term ambiguous relationship with a male financier, making it inconvenient for him to freely love”, but she never expected the truth to be completely unexpected.

“So… he didn’t like men before?” Yao Hong confirmed again in disbelief.

Lu Yiyao nodded without hesitation. “Yeah, I bent him.”

Yao Hong frowned, somewhat helpless and worried. “Why do you have to go for someone like that? Even if he agrees to you now, he might just be curious and want to try. Once he finds it uninteresting or the pressure gets too much, he might go back to finding a girlfriend. What will you do then?”

Lu Yiyao listened quietly, suddenly realizing that Yao Hong wasn’t advising him but rather Ran Lin.

“I… no, he’s not just curious. He’s seriously considering being with me.”

“How long can that seriousness last?”

“I feel like it will last forever now, but…” Lu Yiyao said honestly, yet objectively, “I don’t have solid proof.”

Yao Hong sighed softly, looking at her artist with a mixture of pity and concern. She didn’t want to persuade him to change his mind, but she hoped he would be mentally prepared. “That’s the uncertainty. You have to prepare for the worst.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent for a moment before raising his eyes, his voice low but steady. “Hong Jie, even if the person I fell for today was a female artist, we can’t guarantee that our feelings for each other will never change. Life is long, and no one knows what the future holds. All we can do is face our current feelings, take on our responsibilities, live without regrets now, and face the future without fear.”

Yao Hong looked at him quietly, saying nothing, just gazing intently.

The car was plunged into a long silence.

After what felt like an eternity, Yao Hong finally let out a breath and said, “Go back and rest.”

Lu Yiyao felt like an eternity had passed and his heart had nearly dropped to the bottom, only to receive such a response, feeling like his emotions had been played with. “That’s it?”

Yao Hong looked at him impatiently. “You’ve thought it through so clearly. You’ve taught me enough, what else can I say?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback but also objectively said, “I thought you would be more concerned about the potential PR crisis in the future.”

“Of course, I care. I’m almost worried to death.” Yao Hong shot him a look but then sighed. “But that’s not for you to worry about. On the periphery, I and the entire team will protect you to the fullest. You only need to do two things: one, be careful with your words and actions. Don’t let people catch or photograph any leverage against you; two, date with a normal heart. Don’t let it affect your work, and don’t get yourself hurt.”

Lu Yiyao felt a warmth in his heart; no, it was burning. All the sweet words seemed pale at that moment, so he leaned over and gave Yao Hong a big hug, as tight as he could.

Yao Hong gently patted Lu Yiyao’s back but couldn’t help rolling her eyes. “I knew all those years of you being easy going were just an illusion.”

With an internal alliance formed, what remained were external issues—

Yao Hong: “Does Wang Xi know about this?”

Lu Yiyao: “I can’t be sure, but their relationship is different from ours. Wang Xi also manages other artists, so I think given Ran Lin’s cautious nature, he probably hasn’t spoken yet.”

Yao Hong: “It’s better that way. Wang Xi and he aren’t in an independent collaboration, and there’s still Dream Without Limits above them.”

Lu Yiyao: “I understand. Don’t worry, Ran Lin will definitely weigh it out. He’s very smart.”

Yao Hong: “… I need to go rest too. I’m exhausted.”

……

Ran Lin sneaked back home at noon the next day. Thankfully, he was still a minor celebrity and deliberately low-key, so no paparazzi was willing to follow him.

After returning home, he took a thorough shower, washing away a night of reckless abandon, and emerged feeling refreshed. He made himself a simple lunch, and after eating, he lay down on the sofa, warmed by the afternoon sun, replaying Lu Yiyao’s confession like a movie in his head, finally savoring the sweetness of it all.

Last night, he was overwhelmed by the confession, caught up in disbelief and guilt for “turning a straight man gay.” Even if there were blossoms in his heart, he had no time to notice them, let alone dare to look at them, hoping to persuade Lu Yiyao back to the straight and narrow.

But now, after a night of calm, the chaos passed, and recalling Xia Xinran’s words and Lu Yiyao’s confession, that hidden joy finally surfaced, first a little, then gradually blooming.

All thoughts of moving on, giving up, or just being friends were lies he told himself when facing others, but not his heart.

If Lu Yiyao, as Xia Xinran said, has really turned and can’t go back, should he accept and take responsibility?

Of course! Especially thinking of Xia Xinran’s prediction that even if not with him, Lu Yiyao would find someone else on this path, he felt an overwhelming urge to declare his claim to the world.

Now, all that was left was to wait.

Wait for time to allow Lu Yiyao to settle, for calm to bring him back, or to continue.

If Lu Yiyao turned back, he would sincerely bless him from the bottom of his heart. If Lu Yiyao insisted on continuing, he would do everything to respond and protect him.

Such a wonderful person as Lu Yiyao, he wished he could encase him in a glass dome, admire him every day, clean him every day, pristine and handsome as ever.

All afternoon, Ran Lin rolled around on the sofa, the television playing in the background becoming mere noise, unable to distract him as he secretly reveled in his own lush world of thoughts.

As evening approached and the surging tide of emotions began to settle, he remembered to call Wang Xi.

The phone rang twice and was then hung up. Ran Lin didn’t call again until ten o’clock at night, when the phone finally rang back.

“Did you call me?” Wang Xi’s voice sounded tired, with noisy background sounds.

Ran Lin hesitated before asking, “Xi Jie, are you outside?”

“Yeah, I was at a dinner, so I didn’t pick up your call. What’s up?”

Seeing Wang Xi didn’t want to elaborate, Ran Lin didn’t pry and just asked, “I want to talk to you about <Chronicles of Winter>. Is now a good time?”

“It’s fine,” Wang Xi said. “I’m in the car.”

Ran Lin got straight to the point. “Xi Jie, I’ve read through the script of <Chronicles of Winter> multiple times, and to be honest, I feel the second male lead is somewhat dispensable in the story. I really… don’t want to take it.”

Wang Xi was silent, only the sound of wind blowing through the car window could be heard over the phone.

Ran Lin paused, feeling the need to explain further. “It’s not that I’m upset with you or Han Ze for the role being taken away. I’m not happy about it, but you know I’m not impulsive. If it was truly a good opportunity, with a good script and role, I’d even take the third male lead. It’s not that I’ve become arrogant after <Sword of Fallen Flowers>, but I really want to be a bit more selective in script and role choices.”

“However.” Wang Xi finally spoke, not angry as Ran Lin had expected but with a heavy, serious tone. “Have you considered that you might not have the luxury of being so selective with your resources? What if you don’t find anything better and miss this one too? That would be a loss on both ends.”

Ran Lin was quiet for a long time before saying, “I’m willing to take that risk.”

Wang Xi: “Even if it might mean flopping entirely?”

Ran Lin: “Or it might mean shooting to stardom.”

Wang Xi: “Keep dreaming.”

Ran Lin was stunned. The laughter in Wang Xi’s words was too evident, not like a rebuke but more like teasing in relief, uncertainly asking, “Xi Jie, do you agree?”

“Okay,” Wang Xi responded, then fell silent for a while before saying, “Initially, I was only competing for the male lead role, I hadn’t considered the second male lead… Forget it. This situation was mishandled on my end. I’ll arrange some variety show appearances, events, and fan meetings for you soon as a prelude to <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. If the drama does well in ratings, opportunities won’t be scarce.”

Ran Lin didn’t expect things to go this smoothly and was at a loss for words.

Wang Xi added, “You’re doing the right thing by being patient. Only by keeping your composure can you firmly seize the real opportunities when they come.”

Ran Lin felt there was a sense of emotion in Wang Xi’s tone, but they briefly discussed other topics, and then the moment was forgotten.

After hanging up, Wang Xi stared blankly at her phone.

The dinner she had just attended was to network with the financiers of the movie <Mint Green>, a youth novel that had been very popular two years ago. After its film and television rights were sold, various financiers had been eager to invest, believing it to be a guaranteed hit. In the end, including the company that bought the rights, five companies co-produced it. The dinner was with the rights holder, who also invested. Securing them would almost certainly secure the lead role for their male lead.

From the dinner that day, it was clear that the capitalist wasn’t easy to deal with.

Ding Kai, at thirty-seven years old and self-made, had grown a small workshop-style team into a sizeable film and television company in less than ten years, relying on his sharp market sense and precise project investments. In the recent two years of IP popularity, he had seen success after success with his investments.

Even occasional failures didn’t significantly impact his substantial earnings. Before that meal, Wang Xi hadn’t truly interacted with him, but afterward, she was fully convinced of his abilities to achieve such successes.

Everyone at the table had their own agenda, but from start to finish, Ding Kai’s responses were appropriately measured—never too cold nor overly eager. One could not discern any particular inclination from his eyes, yet somehow, there seemed to be a thread of hope for everyone’s objectives.

A smiling fox.

Wang Xi hadn’t been fond of using such a term, but for Ding Kai, she found no better fit. He was cunning to the point of being inscrutable, never giving away clear intentions yet keeping everyone engaged and unwilling to give up, always maintaining absolute initiative. By comparison, she found herself preferring the straightforward investors who might not always speak comfortably yet were direct and exuded an air of “money talks.”

This was also why she hadn’t discussed <Mint Green> with Ran Lin. The project was intended for Ran Lin, but it seemed too premature to bring it up at that point.

If Han Ze hadn’t been so impatient and insisted on snatching Ran Lin’s role in <Chronicles of Winter> that leading role might have been secured for him, given his qualifications and status. However, once <Chronicles of Winter> moved from Ran Lin to Han Ze, it was unlikely to revert, as it would offend too many. Neither Dream Without Limits nor Han Ze were presumptuous enough to flip-flop so openly.

She had received the news the night before and had been introduced to the dinner through a contact that day. Had Han Ze been more patient for a few more days, the opportunity might have arisen, but unfortunately, he wasn’t as farsighted as Ran Lin.

Opportunities were not only for those who were prepared but also for those bold enough to take a chance.

In this regard, Ran Lin had more courage.

…..

At the end of March, the weather still carried the chill of late winter, and the promotion for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> began to heat up. The official Weibo released the character posters.

Thanks to the individual popularity of Lu Yiyao and Xi Ruohan, the CP popularity of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, the adaptable popularity of Tang Xiaoyu, and the word-of-mouth street cred of Chen Qizheng and Song Mang, the character posters were released and immediately went viral.

The production company also invested in some promotional resources, engaging marketing accounts and influencers to set a good pace early on. This was followed by spontaneous discussions among the audience, raising the show’s profile. The phrase <Sword of Fallen Flowers> trended all day, as did several of the leading actors.

Lu Yiyao’s character, Tang Jingyu, was cold and reserved; Xi Ruohan’s Zhao Buyao was charming and heroic; Ran Lin’s Fang Xian was carefree and dashing; Tang Xiaoyu’s Xu Chongfei was gentle and refined…

As a wuxia drama, a genre that has been scarce on screens in recent years, it drew both praise and criticism, but most of all, anticipation.

This was exactly what the producers hoped for—to whet the audience’s appetite.

That day, Ran Lin’s Weibo was flooded with fans of his looks and fans of the “Green Forest” CP, who had been quiet for a while. Although the last paparazzi incident made many fans aware that he was filming with Lu Yiyao, it wasn’t until the character posters and official announcements that everything became clear. With the drama scheduled for release at the end of May, everything became clear, and fans finally felt relieved and began to voice their excitement.

However, Lu Yiyao’s dedicated fans were overwhelmingly passionate, so most were careful in expressing their anticipation under Ran Lin’s posts. The Burning Noodles were relatively gentle; no matter if you liked one or both, as long as Ran Lin was involved, they welcomed you.

The buzz around the character posters continued for a week until Ran Lin went to Shanghai to record a show. Even with occasional browsing on Weibo, he could still see active discussions.

Familiar IDs popped up in his Weibo feed, making Ran Lin smile secretly.

As if on cue, his WeChat pinged. Without looking, Ran Lin knew it was Lu Yiyao. Their relationship had recently entered a stable phase. While their chats were about daily life, with no overstepping boundaries, there was an undeniable warmth to their conversations.

Love Yao For Life: [The look is pretty good, hmm, running away fast.]

Lin’s Family Burning Noodles: [@Love Yao For Life Why run? I miss you!]

Just after finishing recording the show and returning to the hotel, Ran Lin couldn’t help but chuckle as he scrolled through familiar IDs on Weibo.

As if by telepathy, WeChat pinged at that moment, and without looking, Ran Lin knew it was from Lu Yiyao. Their relationship had recently entered a stable phase. If you say there’s a flirtatious undertone, they only chat about everyday things with nothing inappropriate, but if you say there wasn’t flirtation, Ran Lin wasn’t sure how Lu Yiyao felt. Regardless, he found himself smiling from start to finish in every conversation, feeling warm inside even when discussing mundane topics like what to eat.

Wang Xi, busy at both ends, didn’t have the time to scrutinize him closely, unlike Liu Wanwan, who had asked him several times, “Ran Ge, what exactly are you so happy about?”

Ran Lin always seriously replied that he was just happy without any particular reason.

Liu Wanwan’s consideration was evident in her acceptance of such obvious deflections and her persistence in asking again next time.

[Still in Shanghai?]—Lu Yiyao’s message was straightforward, cutting directly to the subject.

Ran Lin didn’t see anything wrong with it and replied—[Yes, I have to record another day tomorrow and will return the day after.]

This time he was a guest for an internet variety show, and the filming spanned two days. Wang Xi was also there, mostly managing the promotion team in Beijing remotely to maintain the buzz about his character poster and extend the topic further.

If not for the <Chronicles of Winter> incident, Wang Xi would be deemed a fully competent agent. Both <National First Love Drifting Stories> and <Sword of Fallen Flowers> involved luck, but much of it was due to Wang Xi’s efforts, without which they wouldn’t even have the chance to rely on luck.

But the <Chronicles of Winter> incident was like a shadow over them, and regardless of her relationship with Han Ze, it had eroded Ran Lin’s complete trust in her.

So, rather than saying he was deflecting from Liu Wanwan, it was more accurate to say he was keeping things from Wang Xi.

Regardless of where his relationship with Lu Yiyao would ultimately go, as long as there was a chance it could affect Lu Yiyao, he wouldn’t reveal even a hint to Wang Xi.

[Let’s meet up when you get back.]

As he was thinking, a new message from Lu Yiyao came in, causing Ran Lin’s heart to race.

At some point, they had both taken to texting, which had the advantage of not revealing any emotions but the disadvantage of leaving a sense of loneliness.

Ran Lin didn’t know how Lu Yiyao felt, but in the quiet of the night, he would secretly play Teacher Lu’s original dramas, stealthily enjoying them, frightened by his own obsession.

[Do you have time?]—Ran Lin instinctively avoided a direct answer and threw back another question.

Since that party, they hadn’t seen each other face to face, and frankly, Ran Lin was a bit intimidated. Given Lu Yiyao’s straightforward nature, who knew what new developments were in his script. Ran Lin felt his heart couldn’t withstand another shockwave.

Lu Yiyao had said, “From now on, I’ll pursue you,” a phrase that hadn’t been mentioned again but haunted Ran Lin, leaving him unsettled and restless.

[My best friend from my days studying in England, Huo Yuntao, is coming back to the country, the one I mentioned at the party, who Peng Jingyu also knows. He was supposed to come back in May, but he’s coming earlier now.]

Lu Yiyao didn’t answer whether he had time but instead brought up something else. But combining the context, Ran Lin felt Lu Yiyao wouldn’t mention these two things together without reason.

Sure enough, the second message followed closely—[When he comes back, even if I don’t have time, I have to make time to welcome him. Otherwise, I’ll be bracing for a backlash.]

Ran Lin was momentarily stunned and looked back at the previous message [Let’s meet up when you get back], feeling his heart flutter at the word “us”.

A third message from Lu Yiyao came—[I want you to meet him, and I assure you, he’s more eager to see you than me.]

Ran Lin didn’t respond.  He just watched as message after message from Lu Yiyao came, his heart going through a whirlwind of emotions, feeling both sweet and sour at the same time.

Lu Yiyao seemed a bit exasperated and sent a fourth message—[If you don’t ask ‘why,’ it’ll be awkward for me.]

Ran Lin, holding back a smile, replied—[If I ask, then I’ll be the one feeling awkward.]

Lu Yiyao—[Why?]

Ran Lin—[Because you’ll say you’ve already told your friend about us, and you’ve probably praised me too much in front of him. But if I were your friend, I wouldn’t be too happy to see you going down the wrong path.]

Lu Yiyao—[I haven’t praised you too much; I’ve been objective since you have faults too.]

Ran Lin—[……]

Lu Yiyao—[But indeed, the path isn’t exactly straight and narrow; ‘wrong path’ is indisputable.]

Ran Lin—[Good that you know.]

Lu Yiyao—[But then again, race tracks are better when they’re rugged and winding; drifting is more thrilling that way.]

Ran Lin’s typing fingers paused, his cheeks warming up.

Not seeing each other for three days seemed to make a difference—the bad boy started to race!

It was the first time they had such a slightly over-the-line conversation since the party, yet it felt so natural that by the time Ran Lin realized it, the conversation was over.

The topic then shifted back to the more proper subject of “meeting up”, and Lu Yiyao’s reasoning was legitimate—Huo Yuntao was returning to marry and inherit the family business, which involved the entertainment industry. It would be good for Ran Lin to know more people in the field.

Ultimately, Ran Lin declined without giving any excuses, simply stating the truth—[I would feel awkward.]

With the ambiguous nature of his relationship with Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin was nervous about meeting him, let alone his friend.

WeChat messages could be bold and carefree because they weren’t sharing the same space, unable to see facial expressions or hear voices. But face-to-face, Ran Lin admitted, he’d chicken out.

After a while, Lu Yiyao replied—[I was inconsiderate and oversimplified things. Sorry.]

Ran Lin—[Actually, I’m just being a bit melodramatic 😓.]

Lu Yiyao didn’t reply with words but sent an animated gif—Tigger happily bounding over and pouncing on Winnie the Pooh.

Ran Lin stared at it for a long time, feeling somehow taken advantage of.

After the sensitive topic concluded, Lu Yiyao switched back to discussing the character posters of the day. This subject was much safer, and they chatted for a while until Lu Yiyao asked—[Got any opportunities coming up recently?]

Ran Lin honestly replied—[Wang Xi hasn’t mentioned anything. Probably not yet.]

Lu Yiyao—[Once the promotion for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> fully kicks off, there should be some movement. If they have any foresight, that is. Otherwise, they’ll come knocking after the ratings explode, and by then, Wang Xi will surely hike up the price.]

Ran Lin chuckled.—[Hope for a price hike!]

Lu Yiyao—[Little money-lover.]

Ran Lin looked at those words, feeling mixed emotions.

He was only a year younger than Lu Yiyao, so why did it sometimes feel like this guy was scolding him like a father!

……

After bidding each other goodnight on WeChat, just as he exited to the phone’s home screen, there was a knock at the hotel room door. Ran Lin got up, puzzled, and asked through the door, “Who is it?”

Outside, his agent’s voice came through. “Wang Xi.”

Ran Lin was stunned for a moment, then hurriedly opened the door to let her in.

As he closed the door and turned around, Ran Lin’s eyes immediately caught the script in Wang Xi’s hand, sparkling with anticipation.

Wang Xi didn’t beat around the bush and handed him the script. “It’s a movie, still uncertain if it will go through. I had dinner with the financiers before and couldn’t gauge the situation. But the impact of the official announcement of your character poster for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> has made the financiers optimistic about your prospects. I’ve already received a signal that if <Sword of Fallen Flowers> meets the expected reputation and ratings, you have a strong chance for the lead role.”

Wang Xi’s speech was characteristically fast. Ran Lin took a moment to digest before grasping the key phrase. “Lead role… in a movie?”

Wang Xi was both amused and exasperated. “I’d like to emphasize again. It’s uncertain.”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but beam with happiness, his voice lightening. “Even a glimmer of hope is worth working hard for!”

Wang Xi liked his spirit and patted his shoulder. “First, read the script. Then, we can’t just passively wait for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> to air. We need to start working on it beforehand. I’ll try to schedule another meeting with the investors. Many people are eyeing this script, and if we’re not careful, someone else will snatch it away.”

It was late, and Wang Xi didn’t linger after giving a brief rundown. She left to try and schedule a meeting with the investors from her office.

After seeing her off, Ran Lin looked at the script titled <Mint Green>, feeling as if the world had suddenly become refreshingly cool.

Just as Lu Yiyao said, if they had any foresight, there would be movement. And then Wang Xi brought the script.

Ran Lin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking he’d really fallen in love with a harbinger of good news.

Just as Ran Lin was proud of his foresight, Wang Xi faced rejection from the “matchmaker”. Ding Kai was currently abroad and unreachable. Frustrated, Wang Xi’s phone then blazed with a call from Han Ze; her first thought was that the other side had gotten wind of the news.

As expected—

“Do you intend to give <Mint Green> to Ran Lin?” Han Ze interrogated as soon as the call connected.

Wang Xi, accustomed to such confrontations, sometimes struggled to keep her cool. “It’s not me who wants to give it to Ran Lin; the financiers are optimistic about him because of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.”

“That’s not right. You must have started working on it before the official announcement of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. You must have already connected with them.”

“Yes, but it was still after you snagged his <Chronicles of Winter>.”

“<Chronicles of Winter> hasn’t been signed yet!”

“If you dare to back out now, your reputation will be ruined by tomorrow. Which investor will want to work with you then!”

“…”

Wang Xi took a deep breath, forcing her voice to soften. “What did I tell you when you insisted on his <Chronicles of Winter>? I told you better opportunities would come, to not rush. Did you listen to me?”

Han Ze: “You should have stood your ground back then. No matter how much I demanded, you shouldn’t have helped me fight for it.”

Wang Xi: “…You know I couldn’t do that.”

Silence followed from Han Ze’s end.

Finally, he said resentfully, “<Mint Green> is so much better than <Chronicles of Winter>…”

Wang Xi, feeling a bit sorry for him, comforted, “Don’t worry. I’ll find you other better opportunities.”

Han Ze: “But now I don’t have any slots available…”

Wang Xi: “Then focus on shooting <Chronicles of Winter> well. There will be other opportunities.”

Han Ze: “Will <Chronicles of Winter> make Ran Lin an overnight sensation?”

Wang Xi: “Do you want the truth?”

Han Ze: “What do you mean?”

Wang Xi: “From a professional agent’s perspective, I think Ran Lin should have been famous long ago.”

The call abruptly ended.

Wang Xi sighed, feeling helpless and a bit saddened.

Han Ze always wanted the best but didn’t realize that the best wasn’t something he could achieve alone. It required the artist’s effort to broaden their horizons and enhance their capabilities so they could clearly see where they’re headed and match up with better resources.

……

As Ran Lin held the <Mint Green> script, smiling foolishly, and Wang Xi stared at the hung-up phone in a daze, Teacher Lu in Beijing was video chatting with an old friend—

“What do you mean you can’t meet up?” Huo Yuntao was busy organizing gifts for a slew of relatives and stopped in surprise at the question.

Lu Yiyao explained plainly, “Just what it sounds like. I hadn’t thought it through before, just focused on introducing you two. But the truth is, my relationship with him isn’t clear yet. If I bring him along, under what pretext should I introduce him to you? Especially since you’re privy to the situation, it’d be really awkward for him.”

“Wait.” Huo Yuntao picked up the phone, speaker on, and widened his eyes at the screen. “You haven’t won him over yet?! Didn’t you say you were going to confess to him a while ago?”

Lu Yiyao explained casually, “I did confess, but the confession was rejected.”

Huo Yuntao: “Because you had rejected him before, so now he’s seeking revenge?”

“Only you would think something so juvenile!” Lu Yiyao, both exasperated and resigned, retorted. “He doesn’t want me to stop being straight for him, to take a different path.”

Huo Yuntao was baffled. “So now he regrets trying to bend you? What was he doing earlier then?”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “Could you think before you speak? From the beginning, he never made it clear. It was us who sensed something was off and took the opportunity to subtly reject him. Have you forgotten?”

Huo Yuntao was speechless. “So it’s our fault for being too smart?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Huo Yuntao was frustrated. “But later, he did make his feelings clear, right?”

Lu Yi Yao explained, “That was because we had already understood each other without words. He clarified it because he was worried I’d overthink and feel pressured, hoping to reassure me.”

Huo Yuntao: “And because he clarified, you ended up falling for him…”

Lu Yiyao: “More precisely, it was an opportunity to understand my true feelings.”

Huo Yuntao: “So is this like… a strategic retreat for him?”

Lu Yiyao paused, thought about it, and smirked. “Not sure, but it seems I’m particularly susceptible to this tactic.”

Huo Yuntao despaired. “You really are…”

Lu Yiyao: “Pathetic.”

Huo Yuntao: “…I admire your honesty.”

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 56

For a moment, Ran Lin doubted his own sanity.

He understood every word, but when strung together in a sentence coming from Lu Yiyao’s mouth, it suddenly became very hard to comprehend.

Yet, it seemed as if Lu Yiyao was certain he would understand, sitting there prim and proper, his gaze filled with countless hopes like a starry sky.

Ran Lin knew he should respond, but his mouth opened and closed, still unsure of what to say.

This version of Lu Yiyao was so unfamiliar that he even doubted whether this was a prank, that the person in front of him wasn’t Lu Yiyao but maybe Xia Xinran or someone else in disguise, sending him a “newbie” welcome trick.

Before deciding to confess, Lu Yiyao had envisioned many scenarios. The best, of course, was Ran Lin readily agreeing, and the two of them joyfully stepping into a new life of mutual adoration. The worst was Ran Lin’s refusal. After all, the world didn’t revolve around him, and Ran Lin had every right to feel angry or indifferent.

He even prepared himself for a persistent confession after a possible rejection.

However, Ran Lin’s reaction didn’t fit any of his predictions.

Ran Lin just stared at him blankly, neither happy nor angry, but looking straight into his eyes as if trying to pull out demons from the depths of his soul.

Lu Yiyao felt his heart sinking.

With a glance over the living room, some friends were glancing their way, others were engrossed in their little circles, and a few had already run upstairs to continue their revelry.

He wasn’t afraid of Ran Lin agreeing or even jumping up to hug him, nor was he afraid of Ran Lin throwing a drink in his face in anger. At a high-spirited party, any emotional reaction was easy to explain.

What he feared was this cold silence.

Lu Yiyao was certain if they continued this awkward stare-off, it wouldn’t be long before some curious partygoers came over to inquire.

After a brief thought, Lu Yiyao said in a low, soft voice, “Let’s talk somewhere else.”

Ran Lin’s mind, initially stunned by the shock, slowly regained consciousness. His confusion was clearing up, but his thoughts became more jumbled.

The wooden house had collapsed; just in a moment, the ground was sinking, and suddenly it was in ruins.

The collapse raised a huge dust, covering his heart in gray, directionless.

Lu Yiyao suggested moving somewhere else.

That suited him fine.

Ran Lin followed Lu Yiyao through twists and turns until they finally reached the villa’s backyard.

In the open yard, surrounded by tall walls on three sides and the villa’s back on one, the center housed a swimming pool, now drained for winter, its bottom and sides seemingly covered with a protective film. Moonlight spilled down from the night sky, casting serene light on the protective film. Vine plants climbed the walls, leaves long shed, leaving only branches waiting quietly for spring’s revival. A romantically lit corner light made the desolation seem romantic and tranquil.

Lu Yiyao walked along the pool’s edge, while Ran Lin followed a couple of steps behind.

His shadow stretched long, reaching Ran Lin’s feet, each step on it giving a childish thrill of mischief.

Lu Yiyao finally stopped in a very secluded corner, lit by a night lamp, not pitch black but devoid of other noises except the occasional breeze.

In the night wind, Lu Yiyao turned around.

Ran Lin stood a step away, close enough for a private conversation but not too intimate.

In the cold February night, Lu Yiyao’s breath fogged as he spoke.

With the dim light making his face hard to see, Ran Lin could only listen to his voice, clear and fluid—

“I like you, and I want to be with you.”

As the mist cleared, Ran Lin could only clearly see Lu Yiyao’s serious and determined eyes.

Following Lu Yiyao here, Ran Lin was nervous, especially afraid that Lu Yiyao might suddenly become emotional and enact some dramatic idol drama scene like a hug or a wall slam.

Fortunately, he worried for nothing.

Even confessing, Lu Yiyao did so openly and formally, not playing with ambiguous phrases like “Let’s try dating” or “I think I might have feelings for you,” giving himself enough respect. Just like the Lu Yiyao who once said, “Because you, Ran Lin, are my friend, it doesn’t matter how popular we are or whether we are celebrities,” both were disarmingly sincere.

But being disarmed meant he had to guard—

“I don’t accept.”

During that tumultuous time of unrequited love, Ran Lin had daydreamed countless times about if Lu Yiyao confessed, wondering if he should be shy or warmly welcoming. But in every dream, his real emotion was ecstatic joy, barely containing himself from leaping forward.

But now that the day had arrived, there was no joy, only fear and… regret.

He shouldn’t have led Lu Yiyao on, shouldn’t have convinced himself that the other might be like-minded. It was already rare to be close friends, yet he had to push for more, ending up tangled and miserable and dragging others down too.

Lu Yiyao, surprised at first, slowly looked disappointed. “You don’t like me anymore?”

Ran Lin, already flustered at the word ‘like’, looked up and met his gaze firmly. “Yeah, I don’t like you anymore.”

Lu Yiyao nodded, taking a deep breath, his voice steadying. “Then from now on, I’ll pursue you.”

Ran Lin grew anxious. “Don’t you understand what I’m saying? My liking you is over. You don’t need any psychological burden. It was just my unrequited love; you don’t have to feel sorry, nor do you owe me anything.”

Lu Yiyao, possibly understanding Ran Lin’s internal conflict, quickly explained, “I’m not saying this to respond to you; I’ve really thought it through. I like you.”

“Are you gay?”

“……”

In a moment of silence, Ran Lin calmed down. He sighed and tried to speak earnestly. “If you liked me, or even had a slight possibility of liking me, you wouldn’t have immediately hinted rejection when I made flirty jokes. I’m not blaming you with this; I want you to understand why your first instinct was to reject without hesitation—because you are straight. It doesn’t matter whether the person flirting with you is me or someone else; as long as it’s a man, rejection is your first instinct.”

The night was like ink. Ran Lin, in his black school uniform, blended into the night, indistinguishable except for his pale face, which flushed slightly from speaking too much in one breath.

Lu Yiyao suddenly really wanted to slap himself. If he had realized earlier, things wouldn’t have come to this point.

But time can’t be reversed, and all he could do was be honest with Ran Lin. “Back then, I really hadn’t considered the possibility of liking a man.”

Ran Lin’s eyes stung, but Lu Yiyao’s honesty allowed him to let go of the anxiety he had been holding onto. His heart was bitter but also relieved. “That’s the problem. You’re not gay; you’re just fond of me because we are good friends, so you kept turning this matter over in your mind. If we had just been normal friends from the start, or not friends at all, and I told you I liked you, would you have thought twice about it, or would you have run far away… right?”

His last words were spoken gently, as if coaxing a child.

Lu Yiyao felt hypnotized, thoroughly drawn into the other’s hypothesis, and found no words to refute the very reasonable conclusion.

The wind brushed against his cheek like pinpricks. Ran Lin’s feet were cold in the single shoes typical of a Republic of China student.

He moved his feet slightly and then sighed. “You’re just too serious, too thoughtful, and overthinking things. If it were me, constantly thinking about someone else, I’d also feel different about them. Like some actors who easily fall for their co-stars while filming, thinking they’ve fallen in love, but once the shoot is over, the feelings quickly fade because it wasn’t true love, just an illusion.”

“If I had been sure from the start that you were straight, no matter how much I liked you, I wouldn’t have let it show. So…” Ran Lin said, lifting his head, his gaze traveling from the buttons, up the collar, to his nose and eyebrows, as if imprinting the person in his memory before parting. “Don’t foolishly bend yourself for me. You’ve been good enough to me. You don’t owe me anything.”

Ran Lin’s eyes were the clearest Lu Yiyao had ever seen. They held the most straightforward emotions and the greatest goodwill. They were not entirely selfless, but they often considered others.

Lu Yiyao watched Ran Lin quietly, neither arguing nor accepting, and then suddenly asked softly, “Are you cold?”

Ran Lin didn’t catch on at first, but when he saw the smile in Lu Yiyao’s eyes, he realized and glared at him. “I’m freezing to death, and you chose this lousy place.”

Lu Yiyao drew him close, not in an ambiguous embrace but a brotherly one, hooking arms and heading back.

Ran Lin nearly stumbled, thinking it odd for someone to be so casual after being rejected. But Lu Yiyao’s demeanor wasn’t pressuring; indeed, it was more like “the meeting with Classmate Ran has concluded successfully; let’s stride forth” in its carefree spirit.

Lu Yiyao was warm, even through the thick military uniform, the closeness allowing the heat to transfer.

Ran Lin was indeed cold. He hadn’t noticed it during their “long night talk”, but now that he was warmed by someone’s side, he felt the chill to the bone.

He wanted to ask Lu Yiyao if he truly understood and if he had really turned back to the broad road of straight men. But he dared not ask, afraid of burdening him with the thoughts he had just managed to set aside.

This confession had really scared him. Fortunately, he remained composed and clear-headed.

He had indeed told Lu Yiyao that if he met the right person in the future, he would be willing to face all storms with them.

But that person shouldn’t be Lu Yiyao.

Whether it was hardship or storms, these were not meant for Lu Yiyao to bear. He had been living a smooth life and shouldn’t suffer such a calamity.

……

When they returned to the living room, a group of friends teased and asked where they had sneaked off to.

Ran Lin borrowed Pan Dapan’s erhu and played an original tune, immediately filling the room with mournful sounds until he was collectively attacked, and no one remembered the earlier topic.

Lu Yiyao watched Ran Lin laugh brightly among the crowd, surprisingly not depressed by the rejection, feeling even more clear and peaceful inside.

He wasn’t sure if he was bent by Ran Lin; maybe he was, or perhaps he was deeply closeted, but either way, he had burdened Ran Lin. If he persisted, Ran Lin would probably beg him to change his mind.

But he didn’t regret today’s confession.

Like Ran Lin said, no one waits for you, and often, a moment’s hesitation means a missed opportunity.

He didn’t want, nor could he afford, to miss Ran Lin, even if it meant acting recklessly at first to secure the situation before gently nurturing it.

Ran Lin’s habit of considering others was worrisome.

But he liked it—liked it so much he wanted to hide it in his heart, not letting anyone else see.

In that time of confusion, Lu Yiyao couldn’t understand why he felt something for Ran Lin, but now he thought he had the best taste in the world.

At three in the morning, with work the next day, Pan Dapan, Tian Mai, and Lu Yiyao had to leave first.

Tian Mai and Lu Yiyao had arrived together and left together, consistent to the end.

Ran Lin, having no particular hurry, was pulled aside by Xia Xinran, who declared that everyone could leave except for Ran Lin.

Friends teased Xia Xinran, asking if he had fallen for Ran Lin.

Xia Xinran responded cheerfully, claiming a love as deep as the sea.

The friends were exasperated, Ran Lin was amused, and Lu Yiyao, unable to say more, just gave Ran Lin a deep look before reluctantly leaving with Pan Dapan.

Ran Lin didn’t watch Lu Yiyao leave but felt his parting gaze.

He felt an odd sensation—not panic, not happiness, not annoyance, nor confusion—just a sense of something stirring within him, unable to discern if it was joy or sorrow.

Without Pan Dapan, the party seemed rather subdued. By 3:30 a.m., everyone started to find places to sleep. Some crashed directly on the living room sofa, while others sought a more comfortable guest room.

Xia Xinran was among the latter, specifically choosing a room with tatami mats and pulling Ran Lin in with him. Despite facing Lu Yiyao, the prospect of sharing a room with another man so soon after being confessed to by him made Ran Lin’s mind race with alarm. Now, every male friend seemed suspicious.

Xia Xinran was quite familiar with the place and directly took out two white quilts with blue stripes from the closet and laid them on the tatami.

The atmosphere suddenly turned Japanese-style.

Just as Xia Xinran was about to undress, Ran Lin couldn’t bear the boldness of the beauty and directly called a halt. “Wait a moment.”

Xia Xinran had already taken off his suit and was now only wearing a shirt, looking innocently at Ran Lin. “What’s wrong?”

Ran asked with difficulty, “Are we really sleeping here tonight?”

Xia Xinran tilted his head. “Isn’t it comfortable?”

Ran surveyed the room, noting its ample size not just for them but for others too, yet hesitated, “Isn’t it a bit improper for just the two of us to share a room?”

Xia Xinran raised an eyebrow with a hint of meaning. “Only the guilty are so timid. What are you afraid of?”

Ran Lin’s heart skipped, speechless.

Xia Xinran, not completely undressed and feeling more relaxed without his suit, simply lay down on the soft bedding. Ran Lin, giving up on making a fuss, also laid down, removing his uniform to just his undershirt.

The blankets were soft and carried a faint scent of soap.

As Ran Lin closed his eyes, exhaustion hit him. A humidifier with a soft light and delicate mist added a touch of elegance to the corner of the room.

In the quiet, Xia Xinran suddenly asked, “Why didn’t you accept Lu Yiyao?”

Ran Lin’s heart sank. A bad premonition came true.

But he kept his breathing steady, eyes closed, feigning sleep.

Xia Xinran, uncertain, whispered, “Are you asleep?”

Ran Lin remained still.

Silence fell, and Ran Lin’s heart gradually calmed…

“I’m just watching you pretend.” Xia Xinran’s voice was suddenly close, whispering in his ear.

Ran Lin opened his eyes and turned to see Xia Xinran had moved closer, lying beside him, propping his head up with a smile.

Ran Lin felt defeated, remembering Xia Xinran wasn’t Lu Yiyao and there was no reasoning with him.

“Why refuse?” Xia Xinran asked, seeming genuinely curious. “I heard you liked him first, so why the rejection now?”

Ran Lin sighed, no longer pretending, and asked directly, “When did you start listening?”

Xia Xinran thought seriously. “From when he made plans with you for next Valentine’s Day.”

Ran Lin was shocked. That meant the living room!

“Where were you hiding?”

“Behind the sofa on the floor.”

“How did I not notice you?”

“I crawled over.”

“……”

“For gossip, I can go through fire and water.”

Ran Lin held his forehead, completely defeated.

Xia Xinran couldn’t help but admire. “Lu Yiyao is truly bold and meticulous. The more dangerous the place, the safer it is. He chose to confess at a party, quite the master.”

Ran Lin felt that his focus was a bit off. “Aren’t you… shocked?”

Xia Xinran blinked. “The fact that you’re gay isn’t really shocking, but that Teacher Lu is too—that’s quite unexpected.”

Ran Lin was frustrated. “How am I… not shocking?”

Xia Xinran replied, “Because you just don’t look straight.”

Ran Lin asked, “Where did you get that from?!”

Xia Xinran answered, “Straight men can’t possibly be as gentle as you.”

Ran Lin retorted, “Are you criticizing me or straight men…”

“I used to have a friend who’s gay,” Xia Xinran suddenly said solemnly. “You remind me a lot of him.”

Ran Lin couldn’t tell if he was being overly sensitive but felt a trace of melancholy in Xia Xinran’s voice.

Before he could figure it out, Xia Xinran urged, “Hurry up and tell me, why did you reject Teacher Lu? He’s good in every way and even more popular than you.”

The last words stung.

Ran Lin suppressed the urge to clutch his chest and patiently explained to Xia Xinran. “If you had followed me outside, you would have heard me say that he doesn’t truly like me. He’s just confused for the moment.”

Xia Xinran frowned, puzzled. “Then why did he direct his confusion at you?”

Ran Lin explained, “Because he knows I like him. Without my messy intervention, he would never have doubted his preference for men in his life.”

Xia Xinran: “So you’re his sexual awakening, no problem.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Xia Xinran: “Err, am I being too blunt?”

Ran Lin: “It totally doesn’t match your face!”

Xia Xinran lay down, hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling, murmuring, “I think Teacher Lu isn’t just confused temporarily. If he confessed to you, he must have thought it through.”

Ran Lin sighed and lay down too, staring at the ceiling. “I know he’s not someone who acts on impulse, but his overall state is off right now. So even if he thinks clearly, it’s fundamentally wrong. We just finished shooting a film together. You might not understand—it was the kind of story with intense emotional entanglements that can affect a person. Give him some time to completely calm down, and he’ll realize how foolish he was today.”

“I thought,” Xia Xinran seemed to smile faintly, brief and fleeting, “turning straight men would give you a sense of achievement.”

Ran Lin detected a hint of sarcasm, frowned slightly, and guessed, “Your friend told you that?”

Xia Xinran lost in thought, didn’t catch on immediately. “Huh?”

“The one you just mentioned, the friend who is a lot like me,” Ran Lin turned to look at him. “Did he tell you turning straight men gives you a sense of achievement?”

“Of course not,” Xia Xinran also turned, instinctively rebutting. “He was the one who got turned!”

Ran Lin was stunned.

Realizing his tone might have been harsh, Xia Xinran quickly apologized. “Sorry.”

Ran Lin immediately shook his head. “I should be the one apologizing. Because you said your friend was gay, I assumed…”

“He wasn’t initially.” Xia Xinran softly interrupted, his gaze drifting as if looking into memories. “We met during a talent show, living in the same dorm for months, eating, sleeping, and rehearsing together. We were all around seventeen or eighteen—naive but pure. We got along like solid friends, even if we had to compete on stage. But as the show was ending, he suddenly dropped out. If he hadn’t, he would have been in the top three, with great opportunities and resources.”

“Why did he quit then?”

“The company demanded it,” Xia Xinran’s lips curved into a bitter smile, “because he was involved in a scandal with inappropriate photos.”

Ran Lin guessed, “With another guy?”

Xia Xinran nodded. “Yes, and it was someone from the same talent show. He wasn’t identifiable in the photos, but he was wearing our rehearsal outfits. The photos didn’t leak; the company got them, but obviously, they had to do something about it to avoid future problems.”

Something flickered in Ran Lin’s mind, but before he could grasp it, Xia Xinran continued on his own.

“At that time, I couldn’t believe it because he’d told me about chasing girls when he was in school; he wasn’t gay. But when I confronted him after the incident, he told me he was, that he hadn’t realized it until he met ‘him’ and understood his true self. I asked who the other person in the photos was, and he refused to say, not just to me but to the company too. Revealing it would mean both had to drop out. In the end, he never disclosed it, and after withdrawing, he left. He was actually happy when he left, feeling he had protected his loved one.”

“What happened afterward…” Ran Lin sensed this wouldn’t have a happy ending.

As expected, Xia Xinran scoffed with unspeakable pity. “Not even two months later, that fool messaged me, saying he was heartbroken, and it was his decision to break up because he couldn’t hinder the other’s aspirations… Damn! It’s like he was brainwashed. I think that jerk could run a scamming class on relationships. Clearly just toying around, letting him take all the fall, and his dropout just moved everyone else up a spot, killing several birds with one stone, right?”

“Zhang Beichen,” Ran Lin understood. “The other person in the photos, it’s Zhang Beichen, right?”

Xia Xinran took a deep breath, and after a long moment, he grudgingly affirmed with a “Mm”.

Everything made sense now.

Xia Xinran’s attitude toward Zhang Beichen, his sensitive reactions to gays, and even… Zhang Beichen’s claim of love at first sight.

Looking at Xia Xinran, Ran Lin asked calmly, “Am I really that similar to your friend?”

Xia Xinran turned to look at him and, after a long pause, said, “Your features are somewhat similar, but it’s your aura that’s strikingly alike, both very comforting.”

“How did you know it was Zhang Beichen in the photos?”

“You can’t hide something unless you never do it. If it weren’t for my friend begging me, I would have exposed it.”

Ran Lin pondered for a moment and asked, “Is it possible that Zhang Bei Chen truly liked your friend?”

Without hesitation, Xia Xinran’s lips curled in disdain. “In his world, fame and rising to the top always come first. Even if there’s a shred of sincerity, it’s worthless on his path to success. My friend dropped out, and he moved from fourth to third. They broke up two months after the show ended. Do you expect me to believe in his true love?”

Overwhelmed with information, Ran Lin felt a mix of emotions.

Xia Xinran then exhaled in relief. “I was really worried you’d fall for him during the shooting of <Drifting Stories>. Thankfully, you have good taste, choosing Teacher Lu.”

Ran Lin was speechless.

“It’s the contrast that makes you special.” Xia Xinran gazed at him unwaveringly. “You worry about not leading Teacher Lu down this path, instead of rejoicing that someone finally loves you.”

Ran Lin, recalling Xia Xinran’s earlier passion, self-mockingly said, “If Teacher Lu’s friends knew about this, they would probably resent me as much as you resent Zhang Beichen.”

Xia Xinran shook his head. “I resent Zhang Beichen because he was irresponsible, seducing someone, enjoying the benefits, and then leaving them deeply in love. That’s not skill; that’s immorality.”

“But you and Lu Yiyao are different; you’re both serious.” Xia Xinran’s tone shifted. “My friend went to Tibet last year, came back saying he’d moved on, and by the end of the year, he was in a new relationship with a man. So I think maybe everyone is destined for a journey. If you get through it, you move forward; if not, life takes a turn. Whether that path is easy or hard, it’s the one you’re meant to walk. So it’s not about what you want to do to Lu Yiyao; it’s about being a turning point in his life. Even if you don’t continue with him, he can’t go back; he’ll just find someone else on this path. Are you okay with that?”

Ran Lin was confused. “But don’t you also think turning straight men is unethical? You said your friend had a girlfriend.”

Xia Xinran sighed, feeling genuinely worried for his friends. “What’s done is done. There’s no point in dwelling on past faults. The current situation is that Lu Yiyao has changed, and aren’t you responsible for that?”

“What if this so-called crush is just his misconception?”

“That’s why I didn’t intervene when you rejected him.” Xia Xinran rested his head on one hand, the other gesturing openly. “I too think he needs more time to settle his feelings and make sure.”

Ran Lin: “…Where were you hiding then?”

Xia Xinran: “In the dark corner by the wall lamp.”

Ran Lin: “Was it cold?”

Xia Xinran: “Freezing. What a terrible place Teacher Lu chose!”

Ran Lin laughed, his worries of the night dissipated by Xia Xinran’s words.

Before going to sleep, he asked Xia Xinran, “If you were Lu Yiyao’s friend, would you still advise me to be with him?”

Xia Xinran’s answer was simple and clear. “Yes.”

Before Ran Lin could ask why, he continued, “Because those few months dating Zhang Beichen were the happiest I’ve seen my friend. More importantly, you’re Ran Lin; you won’t run away after a few months.”

Ran Lin didn’t know what to say, feeling a flood of thoughts. “I…”

Xia Xinran: “Even if you run, Teacher Lu isn’t a coward. He’ll set you straight in minutes.”

Ran Lin: “…Good night!”

……

As Lu Yiyao was driving back to his apartment, about to enter the underground parking lot, he suddenly heard a shrill honking sound.

Looking towards the noise, he saw his usual van used for shuttling him to engagements parked by the side of the road.

Under the cool moonlight, the black van looked like a ghost waiting for its prey.

Before Lu Yiyao could think of a strategy, his hands already turned the steering wheel, driving towards and eventually parking behind the van.

The van’s door was swiftly pulled open, and soon a figure jumped out—it was Li Tong.

The assistant ran over in a few quick strides. Lu Yiyao rolled down the window, and Li Tong spoke in a hushed tone, “Lu Ge, Hong Jie has been waiting for you all night. As for me, I’m clueless and probably not far from getting fired. Just a heads-up for you.”

Lu Yiyao smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry. You’re indispensable.”

With that, Lu Yiyao got out of the car and headed towards the van.

Li Tong followed, thinking ambitiously that it’d be even better if he were a golden bowl instead of just an iron one.

To his surprise, Yao Hong wasn’t as furious as he had anticipated but rather appeared tired, resting with her eyes closed. She slowly opened her eyes when she heard Lu Yiyao enter.

Lu Yiyao suddenly felt a wave of guilt.

Yao Hong had been juggling family and work, a tough gig that even the young might find challenging. She had always been running at full capacity. More importantly, their relationship wasn’t just that of a celebrity and an agent. Yao Hong cared for him like her own child, and he regarded her as family.

“Shall I ask, or will you tell?” Yao Hong spoke slowly, a hint of helplessness in her voice.

Lu Yiyao was mentally prepared.

He wasn’t very sociable outside of work-related gatherings and had recently been acting unusually, so it wasn’t strange for Yao Hong to be suspicious.

Likely, Yao Hong had followed him to the Aobei Villas and then returned early, knowing he had an engagement the next day. Cutting off the possibility of phone communications and waiting downstairs was a sudden but effective move.

Lu Yiyao had hoped to delay the conversation until things were more settled. After all, these kinds of things would always reveal its flaws. He couldn’t keep it a secret from his agent forever, so it seemed he had to face it sooner rather than later—

“I might be falling in love.”

As he said it, even he was surprised by how a simple statement made his heart feel as if it were blooming with flowers, filling him with beauty and fragrance.

Yao Hong, having already suspected, wasn’t shocked, but she was taken aback by the “might”.

Lu Yiyao nodded somewhat embarrassedly. “Yes, he¹ hasn’t agreed yet.”

Yao Hong frowned almost immediately. “She¹ hasn’t agreed? What’s there not to agree to? What’s wrong with our Lu Yiyao?”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Li Tong: “……”

Realizing the situation was slipping, Yao Hong coughed lightly, reining in her doting parental instincts, and asked more sternly, “Who is she¹?”

Lu Yiyao’s nerves, which had just relaxed, tensed up again.

Yao Hong waited patiently, not rushing him.

After a long silence—so long that Li Tong nearly jumped in to reveal the answer himself—

Lu Yiyao finally said, “Ran Lin.”

Yao Hong was puzzled; her eyes were filled with confusion. “Huh¹?”

¹Clarity: During this conversation, they are using different pronouns. While Lu Yiyao is saying he (他), Yao Hong thinks he’s saying she (她). In Chinese, these words sound almost the same when spoken, so that’s why Yao Hong didn’t realize Lu Yiyao is actually saying he.

“Ran Lin, the one who did the variety show and <Sword of Fallen Flowers> with me. I’ve fallen for him.” With each repetition of the name, Lu Yiyao’s heart felt sweeter and more miraculous.

Yao Hong went from disbelief to shock, and then, seeing the determination in Lu Yiyao’s eyes, closed her own in despair. She couldn’t fathom her artist’s romantic feelings, only feeling a storm of emotions inside her.

Having a romantic relationship could be troublesome, but it was a phase every young artist went through. Yao Hong had always advised Lu Yiyao that he could delay romance but never truly thought to forbid it. She just wanted to be kept in the loop, to prepare and lay the groundwork for PR, and possibly coordinate with the other party’s agent to manage any negative impact of a romance revelation, perhaps even turning it into a positive…

But all her plans hinged on Lu Yiyao dating a girlfriend, not a boyfriend.

“Hong Jie.” Lu Yiyao gently held his agent’s hand, sincerely saying, “I’m sorry.”

Yao Hong forced herself to calm down, took several deep breaths, and finally opened her eyes, looking steadily at Lu Yiyao and asking, “Has it always been like this?”

Lu Yiyao met Yao Hong’s sharp gaze without hesitation. “Yes, it has always been.”

Yao Hong looked hurt. “Then why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been with you for over five years.”

Lu Yiyao steeled his heart. Since he made it up, he could only continue, “I never met the right person, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Yao Hong fell silent, her eyes filled with complex emotions—shock, annoyance, conflict, but mostly, compassion.

Lu Yiyao, unable to bear it, squeezed her hand and repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve already said that.” Yao Hong sighed, gently patting his head. “And there’s nothing to be sorry for. I was negligent.”

Li Tong, having witnessed everything, suddenly felt emotional.

This wasn’t the usual script of accusations and rebuttals leading to chaos. Instead, it was a family reunion.

And strangely enough, he found himself liking this ending…

“Alright,” Yao Hong’s voice became firm again, “let’s talk about Ran Lin now.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t hesitate. “There’s no problem with him. He’s a great person!”

Yao Hong retorted, “The biggest problem is that he doesn’t like you.”

Lu Yiyao, with puppy eyes. “So, Hong Jie, will you help me pursue him?”

Yao Hong was exasperated. “If you keep dreaming like this, you might as well leave the entertainment industry.”

Lu Yiyao pleaded pitifully. “Can’t you be a little more kind-hearted…”

Yao Hong was unmoved. “You’ve just added a lifelong concern for me. If I become any kinder, you’ll ascend to heaven.”

Li Tong shrank back, sympathizing deeply, thankful Yao Hong didn’t know he was in the know too.

Maybe it was time to talk to Lu Ge about a raise…

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Kinky Thoughts:

I’ve grown tired of the trope of “straight but gay for you”. I think so far this novel has handled it well, especially Ran Lin’s response and Lu Yiyao’s depictions.

I don’t think it’s farfetched that Lu Yiyao is just now realizing his sexuality. I know people who didn’t discover their sexual orientation until they were around his age or even older, and some even finding out they are bi instead of straight.

Sexual orientation isn’t always as straightforward as one may think. In Lu Yiyao’s case, he may not necessarily be gay or straight, but perhaps demisexual, feeling attraction towards the “person” rather than the sex.

Growing up, especially in a society where being straight is the norm, one may find themselves not realizing what they truly are until much later in life. It happens. Which is why I’m always a proponent of increasing diversity (media, representation, ect.) so that all sexual orientations are represented… and also why I love reading danmei.

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