Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 48

When Lu Yiyao’s “implicit rejection” system was activated, the “secret observation” mode was also restarted. However, Ran Lin left quickly, and with the last scene being rushed, the only chance Lu Yiyao had to observe him was during the few short seconds of the late-night snack invitation.

But Ran Lin declined very naturally, and his reasons were legitimate. His tone, voice, expressions, and actions didn’t raise any suspicions.

Lu Yiyao felt his brain was split into two parts. One part, scientific and rational, concluded from observation that “Ran Lin is normal, obviously not interested in you in the way you think.” The other part, relying solely on intuition, stubbornly insisted, “Ran Lin is just pretending to be strong. He does like you and has already received your rejection signal.”

It was only when Ran Lin’s words activated the system that Lu Yiyao realized he had been waiting for a chance to apply the theories discussed with Huo Yuntao over the past two months.

But he never imagined that when his wish finally came true, it didn’t solve any problems and broke the peace he had returned to.

Did Ran Lin get the hint?

Is Ran Lin actually gay?

Does Ran Lin really like him?

None of these questions were resolved.

The situation was more chaotic than that night two months ago.

Huo Yuntao, you troublemaker!

After half a night of restless thoughts, Lu Yiyao finally fell asleep. In his dream, he was back in his high school days at the boarding school for boys. As soon as the class bell rang, he ran to Huo Yuntao’s classroom to drag him out for a beating.

Back then, he and Huo Yuntao hadn’t fully grown yet, appearing like bean sprouts among their rapidly developing Western classmates. But even bean sprouts can have fiery fights. In the end, Huo Yuntao couldn’t take it anymore and climbed onto the roof, yelling down at him, “Lao Lu, you prioritize love over friendship!”

After the tirade, the alarm clock rang.

Waking up, Lu Yiyao had a splitting headache and felt heavy with guilt—guilt not only towards Ran Lin from last night but now also towards Huo Yuntao.

Why did he feel guilty even for beating up a friend in a dream?

Lu Yiyao sat on the hotel bed, puzzled. Suddenly, he remembered what Lu Yimeng used to say when he advised her to reflect more on her actions.

She said, “Brother, you have a halo over your head.”

With a haloed head, the mainland star thought he would see the same natural Ran Lin on set today and had convinced himself to stop overthinking and focus on acting. But from the start of makeup, the second male lead kept glancing at him intermittently, his eyes filled with… pain and hatred?

Tang Xiaoyu, who was also getting makeup done, noticed something was off but didn’t dare to speak out.

Until the first male lead’s seeking gaze turned to him.

Their eyes met, exchanging silent, intense looks—

[Lu Yiyao: What’s going on?]

[Tang Xiaoyu: 🤷]

[Lu Yiyao: Could it be the effect of last night’s hint delayed until now?]

[Tang Xiaoyu: Hint?]

[Lu Yiyao: Bye.]

[Tang Xiaoyu: …You can’t just leave after half a sentence. Look at me again!!!]

As makeup neared completion, Ran Lin’s narrowed eyes became sharper, and his chest heaved with apparent anger, ready to burst at any moment!

Unable to bear it any longer, Lu Yiyao spoke up. “Actually, last night…”

“Shut up!” Ran Lin cut him off harshly; his voice was colder than ever. “There’s no need to explain. Nothing justifies you deceiving and using me!”

Tang Xiaoyu gasped, eyes wide, thinking, ‘Are the first and second male leads about to enact “Pretend Play Turns Real: Tyrannical Brothers Fall for Me” before the shoot wraps up?!’ But this was the makeup room—even if their love was deeper than the sea, they should consider public impact! Don’t they want to work in the industry anymore?!

“Um, Second Brother, I think…”

“Shut up, you too!” Ran Lin suddenly turned, his voice deep and serious. “If you dare speak up for him, we can’t be brothers anymore.”

Tang Xiaoyu blinked in confusion, feeling the words strangely familiar, as if he could naturally follow up with the next line—

“If my brothers are at sword’s point and I can still watch calmly, what difference does it make whether we’re brothers or not!”

Ran Lin was dumbfounded, panting heavily for a while before calming down slightly, then said with a hint of disbelief, “Xiaoyu, your emotional delivery just now was really good.”

Tang Xiaoyu smiled shyly, modestly responding, “Not really, you led me… Wait a minute.” His expression turned serious. “It’s fine to improvise, but at least give me a signal!”

Ran Lin blinked, tilting his head. “You caught on even without a signal, and quite well too. You didn’t even need to build up the emotion. It was just there.”

Tang Xiaoyu smiled, blushing modestly. “You might think I’m always joking around, but I’ve been really trying to understand Xu Chongfei…”

The makeup artist working on the third male lead sighed internally while fixing the eyebrow that had been smeared due to Tang Xiaoyu’s sudden, intense line delivery. He marveled at the director’s keen casting choice—someone so easily flattered and quick to laugh, perfect for Xu Chongfei. If he had played Fang Xian, he’d be completely deceived by Tang Jingyu; if he were Tang Jingyu, well, he probably wouldn’t even uncover his family’s enemies in this lifetime.

As the makeup artist internally commented, Ran Lin teased Lu Yiyao, “Teacher Lu, were you distracted just now? There’s no way you wouldn’t react to the lines I threw at you. Even Xiaoyu caught them.”

Tang Xiaoyu was brought back from cloud nine. “I don’t really like the way you say ‘even Xiaoyu’…”

Lu Yiyao, still looking at Ran Lin’s eyes that were “three parts inquiry, seven parts jest”, suddenly felt a bit aggrieved, wanting to complain like Tang Xiaoyu—I’ve been troubled about your matter from last night to this morning, from darkness to dawn, and without a word, you start acting. Where’s the humanitarian care?!

“Teacher Lu.” The makeup artist’s timid call interrupted Lu Yiyao’s tumultuous thoughts. “Can you stop frowning for a moment? It’s hard to apply makeup…”

Lu Yiyao took a deep breath, his brows relaxed, and he slowly revealed a polite smile.

Ran Lin struggled to pull down the corners of his mouth, afraid to smile too obviously—he was certain that Lu Yiyao was roaring inside, but that’s how he was: even when furious, he maintained the demeanor of a gentle and elegant nobleman.

The façade he put on, no matter how internally painful, had to be endured.

Ran Lin lowered his eyes and realized the truth in the saying, “Heartbreak leads to growth.” Overnight, he had turned wicked, sliding further down the path of villainy.

Strangely, villains really do seem tougher than good guys. At least now, facing Lu Yiyao, he felt as comfortable as before he realized his own feelings, if not more so.

Back then, Ran Lin hadn’t fallen for Lu Yiyao, but he still felt guilty about hyping up their CP for publicity.

Now, Ran Lin was just Lu Yiyao’s friend, having moved past his affection and guilt, enjoying an equal and comfortable relationship.

The dinner they had over two months ago still counted.

Lu Yiyao had said not to worry about popularity, fans, or public opinion and to interact in whatever way felt comfortable.

Although late, Ran Lin decided to start listening to Teacher Lu’s advice.

“Are you brewing emotions again…” Lu Yiyao watched as Ran Lin went from holding back laughter, to a fading smile, then to a serious expression, and finally to a look filled with hatred, inexplicably feeling a chill.

Ran Lin’s hatred was fierce, filled with intense and decisive rage.

Even though it was just acting, Lu Yiyao couldn’t bear it. And this was just him as himself; if he became Tang Jingyu, the character he played, and immersed himself in that emotion, Ran Lin’s—or rather, Fang Xian’s—gaze would drown him in guilt.

“I must brew emotions.” Ran Lin sighed, blinking hard to relax his eyes and dissipate the heat that had almost welled up. “Today’s scene is crucial, and I can’t afford any mistakes.”

Putting aside all other thoughts, Ran Lin spoke the truth, and this was also why he could pull himself together today—not because he wanted to, but because he had to.

Whether in love or heartbroken, it was all just part of life. He couldn’t let his personal emotions ruin the efforts of the crew over the past four months. That would be unfair to the investors, director, and writer who trusted him, and to the part of himself that loved acting.

Lu Yiyao watched the seriousness and determination in Ran Lin’s eyes and, for the first time, questioned his own notion of “professionalism”.

He never thought his acting or insight was exceptional, but he was always extremely confident in his “serious approach to work”.

He wouldn’t compare himself with the true artists who lived for their craft, but even among his peers of similar age and status, Lu Yiyao felt he deserved a “Youth Role Model” medal.

But now he realized he might have been too arrogant.

Yao Hong once made a comparison. She said that they were like two buckets of water at different levels, connected by a tube, with his water always flowing towards the other.

Lu Yiyao now wanted to use this analogy but substituting “fame” with “professionalism (including passion for the job)”. In that case, it would definitely be Ran Lin’s water flowing towards his.

Ran Lin wasn’t just more serious; he also had that extra bit of passion.

“You don’t have to look at me like that. Even if your gaze burns holes in me, I won’t regret doing this,” Lu Yiyao heard himself say solemnly, not a line from the script but the inner voice of Tang Jingyu.

Ran Lin hadn’t expected Lu Yiyao to immerse himself in the role so suddenly. His blood, which had just cooled, started boiling again, every cell shouting—confront him!

“I treated you like my closest brother, gave up the girl I loved for you, and would even choose you without hesitation over Zhao Buyao if forced to…” Ran Lin couldn’t continue. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, feeling a suffocating pain in his chest. “And your response? To deceive me, use me, and ultimately cause my father’s death?”

“Your father destroyed my entire family.”

“And me? Have I ever wronged you in the slightest?”

“No, it’s me who wronged you.”

“You never thought of me when you did those things. It’s too late to feel sorry now.”

“……”

Tang Xiaoyu watched silently as the two main actors immersed themselves in their roles, their performance intense. His heart was rising and falling with the scene.

Finally, with no more words between them, only a heavy silence spread. He turned to his makeup artist with moist eyes. “See, sister. Playing this third male lead isn’t easy…”

“I understand.” The makeup artist nodded, adjusting his head. “Stay still, I’ve been drawing this eyebrow for half an hour.”

While the main actors were getting ready and emotionally preparing, the filming set was being busily arranged.

Ran Lin was right about today’s scene being crucial—indeed, it was an understatement. To be exact, today’s scene was the most important in the entire drama—the Martial Arts Assembly, the death of Fang Huanzhi, the revelation of the Tang Clan massacre, the false accusation against Tang Jingyu by Abbot Haikong, and the rift between Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian.

If the drama was a rollercoaster of conspiracies and brotherly strife, then today was the climax with a 360° roll and a 720° twist.

The vast indoor space was transformed into the Fang Clan’s martial hall, the site of the Martial Arts Assembly. Tables and chairs connected, cups and plates scattered about—it looked more like a jovial banquet of various sects than a martial assembly.

Fang Huan’s seat was the main one, not elevated above the others, highlighting the host’s status while respecting the esteemed seniors of the martial world.

Extras were mostly in place, though not entirely settled, creating a slightly chaotic atmosphere.

The rocker was still swinging in mid-air, searching for angles, while the sound and lighting technicians, though ready, vigilantly monitored the set, prepared for any changes.

Some supporting actors had already arrived earlier, particularly Zhong Jiakun, who played Fang Huanzhi, rehearsing and positioning with the actor playing Abbot Haikong, his old friend.

This big scene, with its ensemble cast and climactic plot, was crucial—whether the most splendid part of the play would shine depended on this moment!

Finally, the five young actors, fully made-up, entered the scene.

Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, Xu Chongfei, Zhao Buyao, and Li’er.

Regardless of how their acting skills compared to their seniors, there was no doubt that they were the top group of this drama. The quality of the drama depended on them.

With their arrival, the cast was complete.

Everyone on set felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere, and even the extras instinctively quieted down.

Behind the monitor, Chen Qizheng looked at his nearly suffocating partner and sighed helplessly. “Do you have to be more nervous than the actors?”

Song Mang, clutching his chest, his fingers twisting his bright yellow clothes into a knot, said, “I can’t help it. The excitement is uncontrollable, trembling from the soul…”

This wasn’t the first time Director Chen had seen his partner like this, but he couldn’t help but complain about the same thing every time. “You wrote the script. What’s there to be so excited and trembling about?”

Song Mang’s answer was the same as always. “Because I wrote it, I can’t help but be emotional. I have to see the words turned into scenes with my own eyes to be at peace.”

Director Chen wasn’t one to argue, but he couldn’t stand his professionalism being insulted. “When have I ever made a scene that completely distorted your script?”

Song Mang had confidence in his partner but also remembered the objective laws of development. “There are always accidents. I must keep the risk to a minimum.”

Chen Qizheng knew he would never perfectly sync with his partner in this lifetime. They were like two mismatched gears, grinding awkwardly on the artistic path.

“Let’s set some ground rules. You’re here to observe, not to direct. You can’t interrupt and ask me to stop the scene midway again.”

Chen Qizheng had learned from past experiences. During a climax scene in a previous movie, the two had a public argument on set over an actor’s ad-lib, which Chen Qizheng thought was fine, but Song Mang exploded over. In the heat of the moment, they staged a shameful director-screenwriter quarrel in front of all the crew.

“Okay.” Song Mang knew what Chen Qizheng was referring to. He regretted it afterwards. It’s fine for two people passionate about art to clash, but not in public, as it undermines the director’s authority. “That’s the first rule, what about the other two?”

“There aren’t any.”

“Isn’t it three rules?”

“One important rule is worth three.”

“……”

When they turned back to the monitor, all actors were already in place. Chen Qizheng took a deep breath, his heart slowly calming, and he picked up the megaphone, speaking slowly and powerfully, “Attention all units, let’s walk through the scene first—”

A walk-through meant rehearsing complex scenes and setups without filming, allowing actors to perform while the director interrupted to confirm and adjust camera angles, actors’ positions, and even their actions and expressions, aiming for a smooth shoot when filming officially began.

They walked through the scene three times.

By the end of the third walk-through, Ran Lin felt like his chest was about to explode with accumulated emotions.

Lu Yiyao didn’t say any words beyond his lines to Ran Lin. He couldn’t immerse himself as deeply as Ran Lin, whose soul seemed to be possessed by his character, but he didn’t want to disturb such a fully engaged, radiant actor.

Not just Lu Yiyao, but Tang Xiaoyu, Xi Ruohan, and the actress playing Li’er, also refrained from engaging Ran Lin in superfluous conversation.

It was clear to everyone that he wasn’t Ran Lin at the moment, but Fang Xian, and today’s Fang Xian was crazed, tragic, on the verge of collapse—

After learning from Abbot Haikong that the “Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual” was in the Fang Clan, Tang Jingyu agreed to bring Abbot Haikong into the Fang household, aiming to find the manual before the Martial Arts Assembly and expose Fang Huan’s conspiracy.

As Young Master Yu, he brought Abbot Haikong, disguised as an old man, boldly roaming through every corner of the Fang house—kitchen, armory, woodshed, bedroom, treasure vault, and the like. Finally, in a secret compartment in Fang Xian’s study, they discovered the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual.

As Abbot Haikong had said, the news about the manual appearing in Liuma Town was just a ruse by Fang Huanzhi to eliminate opposing sects and smoothly become the leader at the Martial Arts Assembly.

Haikong instructed Tang Jingyu to safeguard the manual, planning to expose Fang Huanzhi’s conspiracy at the assembly. Tang Jingyu agreed, but unforeseen events unfolded at the assembly. Fang Huanzhi was critically injured and on the brink of death, and Fang Xian finally realized all that Tang Jingyu had done behind his back.

“Scene 835, Take 1…”

Click!

“I would like to experience Master Fang’s Ruogu Sword Technique if you would be so kind to instruct me.”

The veteran actor playing Abbot Haikong stood up. His silver eyebrows and long beard, his face kind and benevolent, his voice smooth yet forceful, echoed in the vast martial hall. Instantly, everyone, whether drinking, chatting, or laughing, fell silent, and the entire hall was as quiet as a tomb.

Zhong Jiakun, playing Fang Huanzhi, smiled upon hearing this, put down his cup, and stood up unhurriedly, declaring, “Abbot Haikong overestimates me. It is I who should be learning from you.”

A sly fox facing a deep strategist, their eyes locked in a tense standoff.

Not only was the Bodhi Temple dissatisfied with Fang Huanzhi as the martial leader, but Abbot Haikong was the only one bold enough to challenge him.

Sitting not far away, Ran Lin had lost the intense emotion from the rehearsal. He now stared blankly at his “father” and the respected Abbot Haikong. His expression was calm, his eyes vacant, completely in the dark about what was happening.

Lu Yiyao sat next to Ran Lin, and according to the script, he squinted subtly, quietly holding his breath and watching, waiting to see how things would unfold.

Fang Huanzhi stepped away from the table and approached the center of the martial hall, respectfully bowing to Abbot Haikong, then slowly unsheathing his sword.

Abbot Haikong nodded slightly, his staff slightly lifting, then rapidly descending, thudding against the ground. A dull, suppressed sound reverberated.

“Abbot, please forgive any offense.”

As soon as Fang Huanzhi spoke, his sword flew up into the air…

“Ugh!”

Before the sword could strike, Fang Huanzhi suddenly bent over, clutching his chest in pain.

“Cut! Blood bag—”

At the director’s command, a blood bag was quickly brought over. Zhong Jiakun put it in his mouth and resumed his painful posture of clutching his chest. In the blink of an eye, everyone on set, both actors and crew, remained frozen in their positions and silent, afraid to cause any discrepancies that would be noticeable once filming resumed.

The shooting continued as if the brief interruption had never happened.

As Zhong Jiakun bit into the blood bag, a burst of blood spewed out. Ran Lin leaped up, pushing through the tables and rushing to the center of the scene—

“Father!”

In the scene, Fang Xian supported Fang Huanzhi, his face filled with urgent concern.

Behind the monitor, Chen Qizheng and Song Mang held their breath, fixated on the screen.

Fang Huanzhi, trembling, raised a hand and pointed at Abbot Haikong, three meters away, struggling to speak. “You… poisoned me…”

Abbot Haikong stood still, not even lifting his staff, his eyes full of surprise, as if completely unaware of what was happening. “What are you saying, Master Fang? I only wished to learn the Ruogu Sword Technique of the Fang Clan. How did this turn into me poisoning you? Amitabha, I haven’t even been near you.”

The divine doctor of Baichuan Valley came forward to check Fang Huanzhi’s pulse. Soon, he shook his head regretfully at Fang Xian. “Mie Zhen powder. Once poisoned, if the victim uses inner force, the poison activates, and there’s no cure. From the pulse, it seems the alliance leader has been poisoned for more than three days.”

“Someone!” Fang Xian shouted outside the hall. “Detain Abbot Haikong!”

The situation was unclear, and Abbot Haikong couldn’t be ruled out, but the fact that Fang Xian used the word “detain” showed he had become more cautious and mature than before.

Abbot Haikong looked wronged, chanting, “My Buddha is merciful, Amitabha.”

Before Fang Xian could speak, someone in the crowd shouted, “Young Master Yu entered the kitchen three days ago!”

Fang Xian was stunned, incredulously looking at his best friend, his voice tight and trembling. “What were you doing in the kitchen?”

Tang Jingyu always disliked the smell of the kitchen. When they were young and sneaking food, it was always Fang Xian who went in while he kept watch.

Tang Jingyu stood up calmly, his emotions seemingly at peace. This wasn’t the scene he and Abbot Haikong had planned, but when Fang Huanzhi coughed up blood, he knew he had been trapped.

He just wanted to expose Fang Huanzhi’s conspiracy, not to kill him for revenge—that wasn’t even part of the plan.

Good, Abbot Haikong did it for him, and to show sincerity, he should take the blame for Abbot Haikong.

But he didn’t want to.

In the silence where even a pin drop could be heard, Tang Jingyu’s voice rang clear. “The kitchen, yes, I entered, but the poison, I did not administer.”

Fang Xian’s lips trembled, partly expecting, partly in disbelief, his voice hoarse. “That’s why I’m asking, what were you doing in the kitchen…”

“To find the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual.” Tang Jingyu revealed without any more secrets.

Fang Xian’s eyes widened, shocked. “The Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual… is in my house?”

Tang Jingyu looked at him steadily, then slowly pulled out the sword manual from his clothes. “Yes, I found it.”

Fang Xian, unable to believe it, shook his head.

Tang Jingyu hardened his heart and declared, “It was in the secret compartment of your study.”

Fang Xian’s mind went blank.

Fang Huanzhi suddenly grabbed his hand with effort, his voice strained and breaking. “Don’t… cough, listen to him…”

Fang Xian’s gaze shifted between his father and brother, suddenly unsure whom to believe.

Tang Jingyu scoffed loudly. “Why shouldn’t Fang Xian listen to me? Are you afraid I’ll expose all your dirty deeds? The reappearance of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual in Liuma Town was your plot to annihilate the sects opposing you, just like the massacre of the Tang Clan thirteen years ago! You can’t forget the Tang Clan, right? Thirty-seven lives, top to bottom… No, you can’t forget. You brought me back, shattered my meridians, and raised me like a dog—this remnant of the Tang Clan, listening to me call you ‘father’…”

“Tang Jingyu!” Fang Xian interrupted him harshly, but after doing so, his voice faltered, trembling. “What exactly are you saying…”

Tang Jingyu was filled with hatred, ready to curse Fang Huanzhi endlessly, but facing Fang Xian’s eyes, the harsh words suddenly wouldn’t come out.

Fang Huanzhi died in Fang Xian’s arms.

To the end, he never admitted anything, neither the massacre of the Tang Clan nor the plot surrounding the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual.

Fang Xian slowly stood up, straightening his back, surveying the room.

Most in the hall were waiting to see the Fang Clan’s downfall. His usually arrogant and domineering brothers hid below, no one stepping up for justice.

Then he would do it.

The Tang Jingyu before him still looked cold, but his eyes were dark and bottomless.

When did it start?

Fang Xian didn’t know.

Perhaps, as Zhao Buyao said, he was too naive, thinking everyone was like him, unchanging.

One step, two steps, three steps.

Fang Xian finally approached Tang Jingyu, naturally shorter as the younger brother, once willing to look up to him.

Now, he realized how uncomfortable it was to look up at someone.

After a long, silent stare, he finally heard his own voice. “Was it you who poisoned him?”

Tang Jingyu thought he was prepared for this moment, but facing Fang Xian’s eyes, he found he couldn’t be frank. “No…”

“Cut!”

The director’s interruption broke the rhythm.

All actors had been immersed in the intense emotional confrontation, with Fang Xian’s emotions like a pre-erupting volcano—the intense heat palpable even to onlookers.

The crew was on edge; a cut meant starting over, meaning all their previous work was in vain!

Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected the cut to be for him; his first reaction was to look at the crew, their faces showing disappointment.

“Lu Yiyao…” For the first time, the director called out his name. This only happened during critical scenes. After calling out, the director even stepped out from behind the monitor and approached Lu Yiyao in the middle of the set, explaining face-to-face. “Your emotion is right, but the intensity isn’t enough. Ran Lin just now was brimming with tension. You could feel the power accumulating in his body, ready to explode. But your delivery wasn’t strong enough; it dissipated the tense atmosphere he had created. Do you understand? In this scene, you and Ran Lin need to influence each other…”

The director wasn’t satisfied with just explaining; he started gesturing. “It’s like you two are competing in rock climbing. He climbs higher than you, and then you have to climb even better. The audience’s emotions will climb with your lines, step by step to the highest point, and then boom! Explode—”

“Director Chen, I understand your point.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t want to waste time and hinder the progress. He understood what Chen Qizheng was saying; what mattered now was how to put it into practice…

“Cut! No, do it again!”

“Cut! No, do it again!”

“Cut—”

Lu Yiyao was mentally and physically exhausted.

The entire set was on the verge of collapse.

The only consolation was that after each cut, they didn’t start from the beginning but from the part where “Fang Xian was already standing in front of Tang Jingyu”. So, the previous efforts weren’t wasted. The duel between Fang Huanzhi and Abbot Haikong, Fang Huanzhi’s death—none of it needed to be repeated. But frequent NGs halted the progress at the “brothers on the brink of a breakup.”

Chen Qizheng was also tired, no longer having the energy to walk up to Lu Yiyao. He knew Lu Yiyao was improving with each take, but it still wasn’t right, especially in contrast to Fang Xian’s full emotions, Tang Jingyu seemed to lack strength.

“Tang Jingyu is reserved, but his inner conflict is intense when faced with Fang Xian’s questioning. Your emotions need to rise with Fang Xian’s…”

Chen Qizheng couldn’t think of a fresher way to put it, tired of repeating the same point. Lu Yiyao was also frustrated; if the same advice was effective, he wouldn’t keep making mistakes.

“Well, Teacher Lu…”

Suddenly, Screenwriter Song Mang’s voice came through the megaphone.

Everyone looked puzzledly, and indeed, Song Mang had somehow taken the megaphone from Chen Qizheng at some point.

“Teacher Lu,” Song Mang said. “Forget about emotions, strength, loud or soft voice. Just focus all your attention on Fang Xian. Don’t get distracted, don’t look at Haikong, Zhao Buyao, Xu Chongfei, or anyone else. Forget this is a Martial Arts Assembly and pretend it’s only you two left in this world. Can you do that?”

Lu Yiyao frowned slightly, glancing around the set. He thought Song Mang was being unrealistic. He would like to pretend it was just him and Ran Lin, but there were extras, supporting actors, lights, cameras, crew, script supervisors, sound recordists…

Suddenly, a shadow pounced at him.

Before Lu Yiyao could react, he was enveloped in an unexpected embrace.

A close, firm, forceful, passionate embrace, without any ambiguity.

Lu Yiyao forgot to breathe.

Eventually, Ran Lin gently let go of him and returned to a face-to-face position, but very close.

Eye to eye, nose to nose, Ran Lin’s gaze was intense, as if it could suck one’s soul in.

“Don’t think about anything else. Just look at me. The one you owe the most, the one you can’t face, is me. But I’m also the only one you must confront. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone else, understand?”

Lu Yiyao heard Ran Lin say this.

Every word was clear, as if his voice was the only one left in the world.

Compelled, he nodded slightly.

Who called for action, whether the clapperboard was used again, Lu Yiyao couldn’t hear. The vast set evaporated from his vision, leaving only Ran Lin, or rather, Fang Xian, talking to him.

The person questioned, “Was the poison yours?”

“No.” He felt countless voices in his body screaming, bursting, but his spoken words were calm as still water.

“What were you doing in the kitchen?”

“Looking for the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual.”

“Alone?”

“With Abbot Haikong.”

“You conspired?”

“No, he used me.”

The old monk looked shocked and hurt. “Tang Jingyu, how can you slander me so? It’s your right to avenge your family, but you shouldn’t tarnish the Bodhi Temple.”

The crowd echoed—

“Yes…”

“Unbelievable…”

“Abbot Haikong is highly respected…”

These voices didn’t reach Tang Jingyu’s ears.

But Fang Xian heard them.

“Shut up!” he roared. “Lock up Abbot Haikong!”

At his command, the Fang Clan’s experts tied up Abbot Haikong, changing “detain” to “lock”.

Abbot Haikong, unable to pretend calmness, angrily shouted, “Tang Jingyu is framing me. Young Master must not believe it…”

“Go to hell, bald donkey! He’s my elder brother! Who should I believe if not him!”

Fang Xian’s uncouth curse seemed like the reckless young master of the Fang Clan, inexperienced, insensitive, but also naive and carefree.

When did the wayward young master become the sensible and upright young hero?

The words “Elder Brother” made Tang Jingyu’s eyes sore.

But he knew he wouldn’t cry. After the Tang Clan was wiped out, he would never cry again.

“Second Brother…”

“Don’t call me that!”

Fang Xian interrupted him hoarsely, almost on the verge of collapse.

Tang Jingyu’s eyes turned red.

Fan Xian’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Did you know about Haikong poisoning?”

“No.”

“Was my father really the one who massacred your Tang family?”

“Yes.”

“When did you know?”

“……”

“Answer me!”

“The night before the three of us became sworn brothers.”

Fang Xian uncontrollably stepped back, clenching his fists, before steadying himself.

It was that early.

“Then why did you agree to become sworn brothers… knowing I am the son of your family’s enemy, why did you still become my brother?”

Tang Jingyu’s voice choked. “We grew up together since childhood. Does it make a difference whether we became sworn brothers or not…”

“It does!” Fang Xian’s voice uncontrollably rose, filled with heart-wrenching pain. “We knelt and swore loyalty to each other, to trust each other in life and death, share fortunes and misfortunes, rescue each other from danger, support each other in adversity, with heaven and earth as our witnesses, mountains and rivers as our alliance, to uphold it for life, and never betray our oath!”

Tang Jingyu closed his eyes, unwilling and unable to speak.

The enemy was dead, but he felt no pleasure in avenging his family.

“Second brother.” Xu Chongfei couldn’t hold back any longer, rushing between them. “There must be a misunderstanding!”

Fang Xian shook his head, showing a bitter smile. “There is no misunderstanding.”

Taking a deep breath, Fang Xian no longer hesitated, quickly walking to his original table, taking his sword, and standing firmly in front of them. The sword unsheathed, emitting a cold light.

Clang.

The scabbard hit the ground.

Fang Xian raised the sword horizontally to his chest, holding the hilt in one hand and the blade in the other, gripping it tightly as if the blade wasn’t sharp, heedless of holding it in his palm.

But the sword was extremely sharp.

Fang Xian seemed not to feel it, gradually bending the blade until it snapped with a crisp sound.

Fang Xian threw the broken sword on the ground, right at Tang Jingyu’s feet.

He said, “From now on, you and I are like this sword.”

When the director called cut or resumed, Lu Yiyao couldn’t hear. He blankly watched the makeup artist come and go. When he came to his senses, Fang Xian’s hanging palm was dripping with blood.

That wasn’t just Fang Xian’s hand; it was his heart.

The brother who resented calling him “Elder Brother” would never return.

Suddenly, warmth spread across his face.

Tang Jingyu, who had forgotten how to cry since the massacre of his family, now wept like rain.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 47

Lu Yiyao just wanted a simple explanation, but Huo Yuntao wanted to hear the whole story.

How could a big star in mainland China have time to sort out every detail of his relationship with Ran Lin for this gossipmonger? Besides, there wasn’t much to say; even looking back now, their friendship seemed normal and natural. It wouldn’t have crossed his mind if Ran Lin hadn’t seemed so odd tonight.

With this thought, Lu Yiyao briefly introduced how they met and their current relationship as like-minded friends and enjoyable collaborators. He focused more on the incident with Zhang Beichen, as that was the root cause of everything. Without it, he wouldn’t have formally discussed with Ran Lin the nature of friendship or how to deal with fame, fans, and public opinion, which led to Ran Lin’s significant comment.

Huo Yuntao listened quietly throughout, a rarity for him. At the end, when Lu Yiyao paused, Huo asked, “Is that all?”

Lu Yiyao took a sip of bottled water and replied, “Yes, that’s it.”

The friend on the other end of the phone was silent, but heavy breathing was audible, suggesting a buildup of emotion.

Lu Yiyao frowned slightly and asked in confusion, “Hello?”

“What the f…” The person on the other end barely swallowed his last word, but his voice was still furious. “Those rumors are just despicable!”

“……”

Lu Yiyao couldn’t help but want to smack his forehead. He wanted to highlight the main points for his friend with a fluorescent pen.

“This incident is over; I was asking about that sentence, thank you.”

“You really have a big heart, able to host a yacht inside,” Huo Yuntao said irritably, clearly still upset on his friend’s behalf.

Lu Yiyao regretted consulting Huo Yuntao and thought Li Tong would have been more efficient.

“Just forget I asked, goodnight.”

“Wait, wait, you’re generous, and I’m proud of you!” Huo Yuntao quickly praised his old friend to avoid getting cut off. “Goodnight? It’s only afternoon here…”

Lu Yiyao snorted.

Huo Yuntao didn’t digress further but shared his opinion. “Based on what you said, he added a sentence, right? Together, it’s like, ‘I don’t just see you as a friend, but as a very good friend.’ It’s a bit awkward, but not implausible. You just told him not to mind fame or public opinion. If I were him, I’d be touched too and want to respond, so emphasizing ‘not just a friend but a very good friend’ isn’t strange.”

Lu Yiyao lay in bed, pondering his friend’s logic. It seemed reasonable. “So, am I overthinking?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Huo Yuntao said. “You two have known each other for a long time and got along especially well recently. If he’s gay, it’s not strange to think more.”

“Do you think he could be?”

“…You’re asking me?!” Huo Yuntao nearly wanted to open his friend’s head to see if it short-circuited. He didn’t even know if Ran Lin was straight or gay, let alone deduce his sexual orientation from across continents.

Lu Yiyao realized his question was challenging, but he had no one else to discuss it with, so Huo Yuntao was his best bet, even if he had to speculate wildly. “Just based on what I told you, what do you think?”

“I never take responsibility for what I say,” Huo Yuntao joked, but seriously reconsidered the warming friendship he heard about. After thinking about it for a while, he, in a rare moment, spoke cautiously. “I can only say it’s suspicious, but no conclusive.”

After waiting so long for the fireworks, there was a tingling sound, and a match was lit.

Lu Yiyao felt he had been greatly emotionally deceived.

“So you basically said nothing…” He regretted not keeping his empathetic assistant.

Huo Yuntao, usually not this serious in case analysis, replied, “All possibilities are still open, which means the problem isn’t unsolvable. On the contrary, you can prepare for both outcomes, so you’ll be unfazed no matter what happens.”

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow, finally seeing some substance in this conversation.

Huo Yuntao went into problem-solving mode: “There are three possible outcomes. First, he’s gay but never confesses to you; second, he’s gay and does confess; third, he’s not gay, and you’ve misinterpreted. It’s not difficult to deal with these three situations, as long as you understand two premises…”

“I’m straight, and I still want to be friends?” Lu Yiyao summarized clearly.

Huo Yuntao wasn’t at all surprised by his old friend’s quick response. In fact, Lu Yiyao was quite suited for business, with his clear insight, accurate problem identification, and straightforward, decisive problem-solving. Unfortunately, his strong aversion was too great, and he was dead set against fulfilling his father’s wishes.

“So, your answer?”

“Straight, and yes.” Lu Yiyao had no doubts about either.

Huo Yuntao appreciated Lu Yiyao’s straightforwardness. It made his own life and those around him more comfortable.

However—

“I never doubted your orientation. Just at the University of Manchester, the guys you rejected for the past two years could form a UN rowing team. But I remember not many remaining friends after being rejected. International friends are sensitive, and we Eastern dragons are reserved and subtle…”

“Can you change that nickname?”

“Little Eastern Dragon?”

“If it makes you happy…”

Lu Yiyao decided to give Li Tong a raise the next day.

Birds of a feather flock together; Huo Yuntao’s treatment of him now was probably how he used to treat his assistants. Self-reflection and compensation were necessary!

“In essence, you want to reject his feelings without hurting him and still expect him to be as close as before. This three-in-one wish is like…”

“Beast.”

Huo Yuntao was embarrassed and quickly stopped his morally outraged friend. “It’s not that serious. It’s just that the probability is quite low, and the hope is slim.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, deep in thought.

Huo Yuntao, listening to the silence on the phone, suddenly realized that their conversation had blown things out of proportion. It was just a sentence, but they had discussed it as if Ran Lin had already confessed. “You can worry about it later. Whether he’s gay or not is still uncertain. I think the most likely scenario is the third one, where you’re just showing off.”

Lu Yiyao snapped back to reality and instinctively rebutted the label his friend had given him. “I don’t show off without reason.”

“Your feathers are always spread.” Huo Yuntao felt his friend lacked self-awareness. “I’ve known you for so many years, and your peacock display has been going on for just as long.”

“…” Every time Lu Yiyao talked to Huo Yuntao for more than ten minutes, he would feel despair about their friendship.

Huo Yuntao, however, was quite comfortable. He had heard the gossip and vented, so to show sincerity, he also offered some practical advice. “In summary, if he clearly confesses to you, no matter how you reject him, it will be hard to go back to how things were. You should be mentally prepared for that. But if it’s just a hint, then regardless of whether he means it or not, you can respond with a hint. If he has feelings, he’ll understand and back off, and you can still be friends. If he doesn’t, even better.”

“So, right now…”

“Especially don’t try to test him. Otherwise, if he didn’t mean it, you might lead him to have wild thoughts. Or, if he wasn’t planning to confess, your probing might make him think there’s a chance, and he might just go for it.” Huo Yuntao, who had roamed the world for many years while maintaining his integrity, relied on early warning and effective shielding against pursuers. “There are only two things you can do now. First, regulate your behavior. Don’t do anything that can be easily misunderstood or misinterpreted; and second…”

Lu Yiyao held his breath in anticipation, waiting so long that the tail end of the “second” almost dissipated, before finally hearing a deep voice from the phone saying two words—

“Observe secretly.”

Lu Yiyao shuddered, his hair standing on end instinctively, feeling as if a pair of prying eyes was blinking in a dark corner of the room.

……

Lu Yiyao found out.

Lu Yiyao didn’t find out.

Lu Yiyao found out…

Ran Lin squatted in front of a decorative floor vase in his room, counting the artificial silk flowers inside one by one, eventually stopping in despair on an odd number.

He knew something would go wrong dining alone with Lu Yiyao!

What if Lu Yiyao asked about it? What if Lu Yiyao was disgusted? What if Lu Yiyao was also gay and liked him… No, the probability of that happening was even lower than Zhao Buyao falling for Fang Xian.

Ran Lin was torn all night.

He did fall asleep, but the worries before sleep continued into his dreams, evolving into a romance simulation game with multiple storylines, plots, and endings. In his dream, he tried every choice at each branching point, but without exception, all outcomes led to a broken relationship, differing only in whether the break was gentle or harsh.

In the representative ending of the former—Lu Yiyao was scared off by his confession and started avoiding him, eventually drifting apart.

In the representative ending of the latter—Lu Yiyao sternly rejected his advances and swore never to associate with him again.

The next morning, Ran Lin woke up unusually before the alarm.

His uneasy mood continued into the makeup room, so much so that when Tang Xiaoyu asked how dinner went, he immediately went on the defensive. “Why do you ask that?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked baffled, blinking uncertainly. “Just making conversation… Do I need a reason?”

Ran Lin was embarrassed, realizing his overreaction, and quickly composed himself, compensating by giving Tang Xiaoyu a sunny smile. “It was good. You really missed out not coming. The food at that restaurant was delicious.”

Tang Xiaoyu swallowed hard, suddenly feeling wise for not going.

“Good morning.” Lu Yiyao walked in, the standard leading man entrance, as friendly as ever.

The first scene today was between Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian, so the car picking up Lu Yiyao also arrived at this time.

Tang Xiaoyu hadn’t even sat down to start makeup when he immediately turned to greet him. “Morning.”

Ran Lin, upon hearing the voice, mentally urged himself to act natural, repeating it several times, almost hypnotizing himself, before turning to face the leading man and saying loudly, “Morning. I was just telling Tang Xiaoyu about last night’s dinner.”

Lu Yiyao looked steadily at Ran Lin, but naturally followed up with. “What about it?”

Ran Lin said, “I was saying the food at the restaurant was really good, and he missed out.”

Lu Yiyao smiled. “Then I’ll treat you again sometime to make it up for it Third Brother.”

Tang Xiaoyu was touched but kept a very serious expression, deliberately lowering his voice. “That’s a very reasonable suggestion.”

Ran Lin was amused.

Lu Yiyao also laughed but kept glancing at Ran Lin, steadfastly following the “observe secretly” strategy.

Lu Yiyao’s actions were natural, and Ran Lin didn’t notice anything odd, only immensely relieved that his worries from the previous night were just his imagination. Lu Yiyao was still the same, and there could be no better outcome than that.

While Ran Lin was reassured on one side, Lu Yiyao became more confused on the other.

He didn’t think of himself as someone who imagined things, but now Ran Lin seemed entirely natural, and the subtle oddity of last night was nowhere to be found. Was he really overthinking?

When the reflection of Ran Lin in the mirror turned into Fang Xian, everything about Lu Yiyao, the dinner, and any ambiguity ceased to exist.

Ran Lin took a deep breath, slowly exhaled, and went over his lines in his mind again.

This scene was Fang Xian opening his heart to Tang Jingyu—he liked Zhao Buyao but was willing to let her be with his best brother.

However, the focus of this scene was on Tang Jingyu, because at this point, unbeknownst to Fang Xian, she was plotting with Abbot Haikong of Bodhi Temple on how to expose Fang Huanzhi’s conspiracy at the upcoming martial arts conference at the Fang Clan’s place—the “Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual” had always been with the Fang Clan, and Fang Huanzhi’s fake news was meant to cover up his bloodbath of the opposing sects.

Tang Jingyu once wanted to tell Fang Xian part of the truth, that is, to hide the fact that Fang Huanzhi annihilated the Tang Clan and only mention that Fang Huanzhi used the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual to scheme, willing to bloodily eliminate opposing sects to become the martial arts alliance leader. But in the end, he didn’t tell Fang Xian either of these things.

Tang Jingyu couldn’t quite articulate his concerns.

Perhaps, he still prioritized revenge, or maybe he realized that once these things were revealed, he and Fang Xian could no longer be brothers. So, he always hoped that the day of their falling out would come later, much later.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Episode…”

Click!

The autumn wind was bleak, with leaves littering the path.

Tang Jingyu, unusually dressed in light-colored clothing, appeared gentle and simple amidst the yellow leaves.

Fang Xian, having shed his extravagant clothes, was dressed simply and neatly, with no accessories around his waist. The only decoration he had was the beautiful sword in his hand.

The change in their attire and accessories also symbolized their growth—from a pampered young master to a man who understands love and self-sacrifice.

The wind rustled through the fallen leaves, creating a soft sound.

The two sat under a tree, enjoying a rare moment of peace and tranquility.

“I always thought life was as plain as water, extremely dull,” Fang Xian said, looking at the clouds and laughing self-deprecatingly. “After experiencing so much, I kind of miss the old days.”

Tang Jingyu also looked at the sky, but his eyes held much more. “The martial world was never as plain as water.”

Fang Xian smiled, agreeing for once. “Right, it was just me, foolishly indulging in pleasures.”

Tang Jingyu smiled lightly, a smile reaching the depths of his eyes.

“She is the woman I love the most,” Fang Xian suddenly said, out of the blue yet naturally. “You are my best brother. I’m at ease giving her to you.”

There was no regret in Fang Xian’s voice, only a sense of resolution after self-sacrifice.

Tang Jingyu didn’t know what to say, his thoughts tumultuous.

“No, who she likes is her freedom. I don’t have the right to say I’m giving her to you.” Fang Xian, not noticing his brother’s discomfort, withdrew his gaze, turned, and looked contentedly at Tang Jingyu’s profile in the sunlight. “I should say… it’s good that she fell in love with you.”

Tang Jingyu slowly turned his head to meet Fang Xian’s gaze, his eyes seemingly filled with a thousand words…

“Cut!” Director Chen couldn’t hold back anymore. “Tang Jingyu’s expression is good. You can feel the complexity in it. But when you hear Fang Xian saying these words, the main emotion should be the conflict and pain of betraying your brother, which should be visible in your eyes. I can feel the conflict, but there’s no pain, only confusion. I don’t know what you’re confused about?”

Lu Yiyao pondered for a long time but didn’t respond, just saying, “Sorry, director, I understand. It’ll be fine next time.”

Director Chen shrugged, not needing to understand the thousands of whys in Lu Yiyao’s eyes, only hoping the actor would find the right feeling next time.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Take… two…”

Click!

……

“How did it go? Did you observe any results?”

Lu Yiyao suspected Huo Yuntao had planted a spy around him; otherwise, it made no sense that he’d call just as he returned to his hotel room.

“No results.” Lu Yiyao sighed. It was all this guy’s fault for suggesting “observe secretly”. Today, his expressions were all off, leading the director to finally ask, “If you don’t understand something, just tell me. Don’t figure it out alone.”

“What do you mean no results?” Huo Yuntao was puzzled.

Lu Yiyao said in frustration, “Everything was normal—normal conversation, normal shooting.”

Huo Yuntao’s anticipation, like a hot air balloon running out of fuel, slowly descended to the ground. “So it was you overthinking.”

Lu Yiyao thought it was a good thing. “It’s rare to find a good friend in the industry. It would be a pity to drift apart over something like this.”

Huo Yuntao jealously retorted, “Aren’t I enough for you?”

Lu Yiyao sarcastically replied, “Do you understand the industry? Can you discuss scripts with me? Rehearse lines? Study the entertainment industry structure, star positioning, fan ecology, public image packaging…”

“Lao Lu,” Huo Yuntao interrupted him, seriously saying, “I don’t think he necessarily loves talking about that with you…”

……

Although he gave Huo Yuntao an explanation, successfully quelling his friend’s gossiping spirit, Lu Yiyao continued his “secret observation” for a while. Eventually, finding nothing suspicious, and with the increasing pace of shooting, he slowly forgot about it.

In early January, with over twenty days left until the planned wrap-up at the end of the month, the progress barely kept up with the plan due to the director’s high standards and strict demands. To avoid delays, shooting times were extended daily, typically ending after 11 at night.

The weather in Hengdian grew colder. The director and crew donned thick clothing, but the actors, for the sake of looking good on camera, couldn’t wear too many layers, so as soon as the director called cut, assistants would immediately bring coats for warmth.

The day Wang Xi arrived, Hengdian had just experienced a mix of rain and snow.

The weather report said rain mixed with snow, but it felt more like a drizzle, with no sign of snowflakes, quietly falling for half a day before stopping, leaving only dampness and a sudden drop in temperature.

When she arrived in the evening, the scene was lit brightly, bringing daylight-like brightness to the darkened world.

“Why have you become like this?” Seeing the limping second male lead approaching, Wang Xi felt sorry for him but wanted to laugh.

It was hard not to; Ran Lin’s costume was so dashing, and during the shoot, his moves were graceful and effortless. But as soon as the director called cut, he started hobbling towards her, clutching his lower back—the contrast was just too great and comical.

“I’ve been focusing on martial arts scenes lately.” Ran Lin and Wang Xi walked to the side with pitiful eyes. “You’re laughing but try hanging there for more than ten hours a day.”

Ran Lin was telling the truth.

Previously, being hoisted up occasionally for wire work, he felt like his legs were no longer his. But now, being hoisted daily, it felt like every part of his body was alien to him.

“Your face looks thinner.” Wang Xi observed him for a while and suddenly commented.

Ran Lin sighed in misery. “Now you know how hard it is for me.”

Wang Xi nodded empathetically. “A thinner face does look better on camera.”

Ran Lin was annoyed. “…Stepmother.”

Wang Xi had her laugh and stopped teasing. She looked around, asking curiously, “Where’s Wanwan?”

“Oh,” Ran Lin said, “I sent her to buy red bean soup.”

Wang Xi frowned at her artist. “For you to drink?”

Ran Lin explained, “It’s for the entire crew. It’s cold, and everyone’s working hard.”

Wang Xi nodded approvingly. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

Before Ran Lin could respond, the next scene was called, and he hurried back to set.

Lu Yiyao was also with the martial arts unit today, but he stayed hidden behind a fake rock, watching his junior brothers fly through the air, occasionally throwing hidden weapons and shooting cold arrows, utterly relaxed.

Most of the fight scenes involved a group, with some skilled actors and some extras flailing about, making the coordination time-consuming. Plus, the second and third male leads required hands-on instruction from the martial arts director, so not many scenes were shot that day.

Thankfully, a significant and challenging fight scene was just completed, bringing relief to everyone. It was at this moment that the hot red bean soup arrived. The production assistant distributed it, and whether it was handed to actors or crew, they were told it was a treat from Teacher Ran.

In the whole crew, there was only one classmate Ran.

The red bean soup was served in insulated disposable paper bowls, bearing the logo of a famous chain dessert shop known for its red bean soup, also called red bean paste. It was mildly sweet, not cloying, warm upon entry, and had a rich aftertaste.

Lu Yiyao, holding a bowl of red bean soup, found Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu exchanging experiences in a shady corner of the recently filmed garden. He raised the paper bowl. “Thanks.”

Ran Lin smiled, about to say there was no need for formalities between them, but Tang Xiaoyu interjected first. “What’s that?”

Lu Yiyao honestly replied, “Red bean soup, for everyone.”

Tang Xiaoyu felt left out. “Why didn’t anyone give me one!”

Ran Lin realized their secluded spot had been overlooked and quickly reassured, “Don’t worry. They wouldn’t forget you. Let me find Wanwan…”

“No need. I haven’t drunk mine yet,” Lu Yiyao said, offering his bowl to Tang Xiaoyu. “You can have this first.”

“This doesn’t seem right…” Tang Xiaoyu hesitated, but his actions of taking the dessert contradicted his words.

Lu Yiyao felt defeated by his reaction.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but chuckle.

Tang Xiaoyu, feeling the warmth from the bowl’s heat, took a couple of big sips, feeling relaxed. “Feng Ge is really thoughtful.”

The crew’s food and lodging were managed by Feng Ge, the production assistant, including tea and snacks.

Lu Yiyao knew he was mistaken and corrected, “It’s not Feng Ge, it’s your Ran Ge.”

Tang Xiaoyu, with red bean paste on his lips, looked up from the bowl, only now understanding the meaning behind Lu Yiyao’s earlier “thanks” and Ran Lin’s “don’t worry, they won’t forget you.”

“You treated us?” Tang Xiaoyu sincerely exclaimed, “You’re really thoughtful…”

Ran Lin smiled, half-seriously asking, “Are you falling in love with me?”

Tang Xiaoyu shook his head, slowly saying, “No, I’ve already fallen for you.”

Ran Lin patted his shoulder, sighing. “Your love comes too cheap.”

Tang Xiaoyu, feeling slighted, stopped talking to his second brother and continued sipping his dessert.

Lu Yiyao watched with interest.

Ran Lin turned back, meeting Lu Yiyao’s smiling eyes, and jokingly said, “What about you? Have you fallen for me too?”

Lu Yiyao was stunned.

The crisis management system he thought he had uninstalled months ago, with Huo Yuntao’s help, seemed only to be in hibernation. Now, triggered by a keyword, it rebooted.

“We are brothers whose heads have knocked on the ground together.” Lu Yiyao heard himself reply.

Ran Lin stiffened for a moment, not grasping the dissonance in that response. Before he could ponder it, Tang Xiaoyu, engrossed in his dessert, interjected teasingly, “Brothers into lovers, how nice. It’s all the rage now…”

“Drink your red bean soup,” Lu Yiyao said, lightly tapping the back of his head in a playful manner.

Ran Lin suddenly understood.

Whether it was Lu Yiyao’s words or actions, nothing was explicitly clear, but Ran Lin just got it. He even recalled a conversation from two months ago and Lu Yiyao’s subtle reaction.

Perhaps, when you dwell on something for a long time, even a look or a word related to it can bring clarity, like achieving a breakthrough in a martial arts novel.

“Ran Lin?” Tang Xiaoyu, having finished his bowl, wanted to express his gratitude again but noticed his second brother in a daze. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing.” Ran Lin shook his head. “I’m going to find Wanwan and get another bowl for you.”

He said the latter half to Lu Yiyao, but without looking at him, quickly left the garden, his strides swift, oblivious to any aches or pains.

“He’s really worried about you not getting enough,” Tang Xiaoyu commented, watching Ran Lin’s retreating figure enviously.

Lu Yiyao didn’t quite catch his words, just stared in the direction Ran Lin had gone, suddenly feeling uncertain.

The last scene of the day was filmed very late, and it was past midnight by the time they wrapped up. Lu Yiyao, for some reason, stopped Ran Lin, who had just removed his makeup, and asked, “Do you want to go for a late-night snack?”

Ran Lin stared at him for a long time, then burst into laughter, saying, “At least let me sleep for a few hours.”

Lu Yiyao knew his invitation was odd, but it felt like he needed some pretext to talk to Ran Lin to be at ease.

Liu Wanwan, having called the driver, came over to inform. “Ran Ge, the car’s here.”

Ran Lin smiled at Lu Yiyao. “Then I’ll be going. See you tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and stepped aside to let him pass.

Ran Lin quickly followed his assistant, leaving the set.

Lu Yiyao suddenly felt like something would be different tomorrow.

Wang Xi had already returned to the hotel earlier, leaving only Ran Lin and Liu Wanwan in the car. Liu Wanwan, sensing Ran Lin’s low spirits, asked, “Ran Ge, what’s wrong?”

Ran Lin slowly shook his head. “Nothing, just tired.”

Liu Wanwan understood; she found it exhausting just watching on set, let alone Ran Lin, who had to perform physically demanding scenes. “The shoot wraps up at the end of the month, Ran Ge. I believe in you. Hang in there until the end!”

Ran Lin looked at his assistant for a while, then smiled faintly, showing a hint of tiredness. “Yeah, it wraps up at the end of the month.”

For some reason, Liu Wanwan felt that Ran Lin’s low voice held a sense of reluctance and perhaps… relief.

……

Water continuously poured from the shower, filling the bathroom with steam.

Ran Lin stood under the shower, eyes closed, face upturned, letting the water drench him thoroughly.

Ever since that night he misspoke, Ran Lin knew this day would come—being seen through by Lu Yiyao, rejected, or even despised and distanced. But he had romanticized his unrequited love, thinking that even if rejected, it would be on a special day, in a special setting, perhaps even with special events.

But life doesn’t always have so many special moments. It was just an ordinary workday, a regular break, a casual joke. And then, the time bomb he had always feared was triggered. He thought it would be earth-shattering, but it was just a tick of the stopwatch, not even affecting Tang Xiaoyu’s enjoyment of the red bean soup.

Another miscalculation was his feelings for Lu Yiyao—they were much deeper than he had realized.

Ran Lin slowly squatted down, hugging his knees, breathing deeply as if lacking oxygen, or like a silent scream. He didn’t know why he did this, only that it felt comfortable. Each deep breath seemed to release some of the pent-up emotions in his heart, making him feel increasingly light.

The water hit his back, the force causing it to splash wildly upon impact.

The past four months felt like a dream. Because of the ambiguity and uncertainty, whether he was cautiously hiding his feelings or impulsively probing, everything was exceptionally sweet.

But now the dream was over. The other party had clearly indicated they didn’t like being part of your dreams, and they did so in a very gentle and tactful way, leaving enough dignity and steps to descend. Any further fantasies would be inappropriate. So, it was good.

……

After the shower, Ran Lin observed himself in the mirror for a long time, ensuring there was no risk of red or swollen eyes, then heaved a sigh of relief and flopped into bed.

Tomorrow was an important day—the day the fanciful, lovesick Ran Lin would go offline and the serious, professional actor Ran Lin would energetically take the stage!

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 46

Today, Lu Yiyao was returning to Group A.

Ran Lin had been restless since he woke up, repeatedly rehearsing in his mind how he would greet Lu Yiyao, what he would say, and whether or not he should bring up the incident of being secretly photographed. Although the controversy had subsided online, they had never discussed it between themselves.

Even as he got into the car to the set, Ran Lin had gone through over a dozen scenarios of their “reunion” in his mind. Yet, when he arrived on set and started makeup and styling, Lu Yiyao still hadn’t shown up.

Ran Lin then remembered that the scenes scheduled for filming today were between him and Tang Xiaoyu. Lu Yiyao and Xia Ruohan’s parts were to be shot later, allowing the male and female leads to rest a bit longer and arrive at the set later.

Tang Xiaoyu yawned again. Ever since makeup and styling began, his yawns hadn’t stopped.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but smile—no matter how bad his mood, seeing this lively character always made him forget his troubles, focusing only on their playful banter.

“Did you turn into a thief again last night?”

Tang Xiaoyu, struggling to keep his sleepy eyes open, replied amidst his yawns, which shimmered in the morning light. “It’s not my fault that I have too much energy.”

“……” Ran Lin decided to retract his previous thought. Forget about shimmering, this was pollution!

Understanding Ran Lin’s quick realization and seeing the makeup artist’s confused expression, Tang Xiaoyu felt quite satisfied.

Finding a co-star who was both compatible on set and had a similar wavelength was rare. Someone like Ran Lin, who was also a trustworthy friend, was even more precious.

Tang Xiaoyu, not one to keep things to himself, especially now that he was brimming with joy and saw the subtle sadness in his partner’s eyes, felt it was his duty to offer some solace.

As soon as the makeup artist stepped out, Tang Xiaoyu spoke up. “Lu Yiyao is coming today.”

Ran Lin, not understanding why Tang Xiaoyu suddenly mentioned Lu Yiyao, calmly replied, “Yes, I know.”

Tang Xiaoyu said, “You two haven’t talked much these past days, have you?”

Ran Lin instinctively explained, “He has been with Group B…”

“Come on, no need to hide things from me,” Tang Xiaoyu interrupted. “No interaction, no shared scenes, no meals together—even a fool would know there’s awkwardness between you two.”

Now that Tang Xiaoyu had brought it up so openly, it felt easier to discuss.

“I don’t want it to be like this…” Ran Lin sighed deeply.

“I understand.” Tang Xiaoyu stretched his arm to pat Ran Lin’s shoulder, almost falling out of his chair in the process.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but laugh. “I got your warmth. No need for the gesture.”

Tang Xiaoyu, ignoring Ran Lin’s response, retracted his arm and spoke from his own experience: “Being an artist like us, sometimes things are beyond our control. I had a friend before, a really good person, but he tended to speak too casually, always giving others a chance to pick at his words. His reputation was a mix of good and bad. Every time I posted a photo with him, a lot of fans would criticize. Later, when we worked together on a TV drama and it didn’t do well in ratings, our fans started fighting each other, blaming the other side for dragging down the show. The arguments got really intense, with a lot of back-and-forth…”

“Did you two end up parting ways?”

“Not exactly. We still interact on Weibo and talk normally when we meet…” Tang Xiaoyu looked at Ran Lin, his smile tinged with regret. “But the relationship has cooled.”

Ran Lin didn’t know who Tang Xiaoyu was talking about but felt an inexplicable sadness. “Have you thought about having a serious talk with him?”

“I didn’t just think about it; I tried, but he always declined.” Tang Xiaoyu sighed, forcing a smile.

Ran Lin disliked seeing Tang Xiaoyu this way; he preferred the lively fish.

“If my fans and your fans start arguing,” Ran Lin said firmly. “I definitely won’t abandon you.”

Tang Xiaoyu looked at him for a long moment, nodding vigorously. “Then please gain more fans quickly. Otherwise, it would just be a one-sided massacre right now.”

Ran Lin squinted, considering the feasibility of ending their friendship.

Tang Xiaoyu laughed again.

Relationships come and go, and while remembering them can be painful, having done one’s best, acceptance comes naturally. Life must move forward.

“Good morning.” A bright voice suddenly came from the doorway.

Both turned around to see Lu Yiyao standing in the sunlight, smiling warmly and energetically.

“Morning.” Tang Xiaoyu stood up to greet him.

Ran Lin got up a bit slower, also uttering a “morning.”

Lu Yiyao’s demeanor was just as relaxed and friendly as before the incident, without any hint of change. His invitation was as casual as ever—

“Let’s have dinner together after work.”

Tang Xiaoyu felt as if time had rewound.

Ran Lin was completely baffled, repeating, “Dinner?”

Lu Yiyao, accommodating as always, offered an alternative. “If not dinner, we could go to the gym. The hotel gym is quite empty at night.”

“Why would we go to the gym after a tiring day?” Ran Lin asked, perplexed.

Tang Xiaoyu, curious, raised his hand. “Why do you know about the hotel gym’s situation at night?”

Lu Yiyao shrugged. “To maintain high popularity, you have to work harder than others.”

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu, the “others”, exchanged glances, contemplating a group beatdown of the male lead.

“Jokes aside.” Lu Yiyao got back to the point. “Just a meal to catch up.”

Tang Xiaoyu realized he had nothing to discuss with Lu Yiyao and had plans for the evening. But he was curious about what Lu Yiyao had to say to Ran Lin after these three days. Missing such a chance to observe up close seemed regrettable. Yet, there was a lovely evening waiting…

“Sorry, I have plans tonight.”

Tang Xiaoyu, without hesitation, chose his girlfriend.

Ran Lin inwardly sighed in relief. He truly didn’t know what to talk about with Lu Yiyao. He knew he should act naturally, but his mind was too cluttered these days…

Lu Yiyao: “It’s fine. Then I’ll just have dinner with Ran Lin and chat. It won’t be an issue.”

Tang Xiaoyu: “…At least pretend to be polite and show some regret for two seconds.”

Lu Yiyao’s smile was sincere and open.

Ran Lin, however, was somewhat surprised. Lu Yiyao hadn’t contacted him for three days, which seemed to indicate he was bothered by the “scandal”. Yet now, he seemed more than happy to have dinner alone with him, a stark contrast to his previous behavior.

Lu Yiyao misunderstood Ran Lin’s hesitation. “You don’t need to worry too much. We just got off the hot search. Eating together now is a sign of our clear conscience. If we start avoiding each other, it will seem like we’re guilty.”

Tang Xiaoyu nodded in agreement. “Logical reasoning, can’t argue with that.”

Ran Lin blinked, suddenly feeling that all his worries over the past three days were unnecessary.

His concerns all stemmed from Lu Yiyao, but it seemed like Teacher Lu had no issues at all. He just spent three days with Group B, and now he was back, even more refreshed than before.

“Okay.” Ran Lin stopped overthinking and agreed readily, then added somewhat mischievously, “I’ll choose the restaurant.”

Lu Yiyao cooperatively nodded. “I’ll take care of the bill.”

Tang Xiaoyu watched in amazement, thinking he needed to learn from Ran Lin about “how to make a popular male star eagerly befriend you.”

As the time to start filming approached, Lu Yiyao went to get ready for his makeup and styling, while Tang Xiaoyu and Ran Lin headed to the set.

Once they were alone, Tang Xiaoyu spoke in a low voice to Ran Lin. “I take back what I said earlier.”

Ran Lin was confused. “What do you mean?”

Tang Xiaoyu: “Everything I said. About fans fighting, awkward relationships, fragile friendships… just pretend you never heard any of it before Lu Yiyao came.”

Ran Lin: “Why?”

Tang Xiaoyu: “Because I’ve realized that the conventional rules of interpersonal relationships in our industry don’t apply to you two.”

Ran Lin felt a bit flattered. “Are we special?”

Tang Xiaoyu: “No, you’re just weird.”

Ran Lin: “…”

As the clapperboard snapped, all the real-world troubles vanished instantly, and Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu became Fang Xian and Xu Chongfei again, unraveling the mysteries of a turbulent world.

When Lu Yiyao, already in costume, arrived on set, Xia Ruohan had been there for a few minutes, sitting quietly, watching Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu filming in another courtyard from a distance.

Unable to hear the dialogue, she could only see the figures of actors and crew members bustling about.

“Good morning.” Lu Yiyao hadn’t seen Xia Ruohan in three days and thought to greet her proactively, rather than waiting to be pestered.

Unexpectedly, Xia Ruohan’s usual enthusiasm was replaced by a simple reply. “Morning.”

After a pause, as if realizing something, she added, “Well, not so early anymore. It’s almost ten.”

Lu Yiyao smiled, feeling a rare sense of ease in her presence.

But just as he was about to leave, Xia Ruohan stopped him. “I need to talk to you.”

Lu Yiyao hesitated, considering the unsuitability of the setting for a private conversation. But before he could decide, Xia Ruohan’s assistant brought over another chair, indicating for him to sit.

Figuring she wouldn’t dare to do anything drastic in public, Lu Yiyao reluctantly sat down.

As soon as he settled, Xia Ruohan spoke in a low voice. “You don’t have to avoid me anymore. I’ve given up.”

Those words, among all the pleasant things Lu Yiyao had heard in his life, ranked in the top three.

In that moment, everything seemed brighter.

He wanted to know who had enlightened her or who had taken his place in her “affections”, but he feared asking too much might make her change her mind. So, despite his curiosity, he restrained himself and replied calmly, “That’s good, that’s good.”

Xia Ruohan looked at him quietly, feeling a sense of peace.

Strangely, after being infatuated with Lu Yiyao for so long, it only took her three days to separate “Lu Yiyao” from “Yun Zhang” in her heart.

Now, looking at Lu Yiyao, she felt nothing, just like when she saw Ran Lin without makeup—no ripples in her heart.

The man who had haunted her dreams remained rooted in her heart, but he had nothing to do with the Lu Yiyao before her.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll have to run,” Lu Yiyao joked, feeling uneasy under her gaze.

Xia Ruohan, slightly embarrassed, turned away and looked at the courtyard outside the door, her expression gradually calming down. She mused, “If I were Zhao Buyao, I wouldn’t fall for Tang Jingyu.”

Lu Yiyao, following her gaze to where Ran Lin, portraying Fang Xian, stood, asked with interest, “Do you prefer Fang Xian?”

Xia Ruohan nodded seriously. “Fang Xian is great. He’s straightforward about his feelings, and even after being rejected, he doesn’t harbor hatred but wishes for Zhao Buyao’s happiness. Even when deceived by Tang Jingyu, he still risks his life to save her when she’s trapped in the Liuhua Palace. How could you deceive and use someone so good? Doesn’t your conscience hurt?”

Xia Ruohan’s indignation grew as she spoke, turning abruptly to glare at him.

Lu Yiyao chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “I can’t take the blame for that; you should send your complaints to the scriptwriter.”

Xia Ruohan paused, realizing she had momentarily immersed herself in the story again.

Lu Yiyao was used to this from their last collaboration—she would often get lost in the plot while discussing it. He actually envied her ability to immerse herself so fully.

“Speaking of which,” Xia Ruohan said, returning to reality, “I liked Xu Chongfei the most when I read the script, but now, without any changes to the script, my favorite character has inexplicably become Fang Xian.”

“It’s not inexplicable,” Lu Yiyao said, glancing at Ran Lin’s figure in the distance. “Ran Lin’s performance is good.”

Xia Ruohan agreed. “Yes. And I think it’s amazing how he transforms into a completely different person when filming starts, suddenly becoming very handsome.”

Lu Yiyao smiled, about to respond, when Xia Ruohan added, “Don’t tell Ran Lin what I’ve said.”

Lu Yiyao, puzzled. “Why not?”

Xia Ruohan: “I’m afraid it’ll go to his head.”

Lu Yiyao: “…Okay.”

The male and female leads of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> were thoroughly invested in protecting Ran Lin’s path as an actor.

……

On a busy and tense day, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin hardly had any chance to talk until the end of the shoot. Lu Yiyao caught up with Ran Lin, who was about to return to the hotel, and said, “Don’t go back yet. Let’s go have dinner.”

Ran Lin could sense Lu Yiyao’s urgency but couldn’t fathom the reason.

It wasn’t until they sat down in a private room of a high-end, secluded restaurant and ordered food that Lu Yiyao locked the door temporarily, showed Ran Lin the photos on his phone, and played the recordings.

Lu Yiyao always preferred to be direct and to the point in important matters. He disliked beating around the bush, which was why he always found it frustrating whenever a story’s protagonist was about to reveal the truth but got interrupted, leading to various misunderstandings and complications.

After seeing and hearing everything, Ran Lin understood it all.

But he didn’t remove his headphones right away, staring blankly at the phone screen.

Lu Yiyao waited for a moment, then gently helped him remove the headphones, asking, “Are you okay?”

Ran Lin came back to his senses, handed the phone back, and managed a weak smile. “I’m fine.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t believe him.

For the first time, he somewhat regretted his blunt approach.

Ran Lin absentmindedly picked up a cup of tea and was about to drink when Lu Yiyao suddenly grabbed his wrist. The tea spilled onto his pants, the hot droplets seeping through the fabric.

“The tea is freshly brewed. It could scald you…” Lu Yiyao, trying to sound gentle and caring, took the cup from Ran Lin’s distracted grasp and put it back on the table.

Ran Lin let him take the cup away, looking down, lost in thought.

Lu Yiyao sighed and began to put various dishes into Ran Lin’s bowl until it was piled high, then nodded satisfactorily. “Eat first, and we’ll discuss after.”

Ran Lin finally looked up. “Why didn’t you wait until after we ate to let me hear the recording?”

Lu Yiyao sighed with a look of “you’re still too naïve” on his face. “Too many things can happen during the night. What if we get called back to the set midway through dinner? What if Zhang Beichen calls you? What if the paparazzi barge in…”

“I was wrong,” Ran Lin admitted. “I didn’t think it through.”

Lu Yiyao felt reassured. “I appreciate your understanding.”

Ran Lin smiled wryly but thinking of what he had just seen and heard, his smile faded quickly.

After a deep breath, Ran Lin finally opened up to Lu Yiyao. “I’m a bit upset.”

Once the first sentence is spoken, the rest of the emotions unfold.

“I suspected something before…” Ran Lin paused, struggling to find the right words.

He wasn’t devastated, just feeling choked up with a mix of sadness, disappointment, and other gloomy emotions.

Lu Yiyao understood. “What you think may not be what others think.”

Ran Lin looked into Lu Yiyao’s eyes, still holding a sliver of hope. “At least he could have called me.”

Lu Yiyao asked plainly, “Did he call you?”

Ran Lin’s eyes dimmed, and after a long pause, he asked, “Would you have called me?”

Lu Yiyao disliked hypotheticals and shook his head. “If it were me, I wouldn’t have done such a thing in the first place.”

Ran Lin: “What if you did it impulsively?”

Lu Yiyao: “I would apologize profusely and admit my mistake. A phone call isn’t enough.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Lu Yiyao: “Why are you laughing?”

Ran Lin: “You’re crazy.”

Lu Yiyao felt bemused, sensing his heartfelt efforts had hit a snag, but seeing a smile on Ran Lin’s face made it worthwhile.

Ran Lin often felt Lu Yiyao belonged to a different era. This person should wear a long robe and recite the Four Books and Five Classics.

“What do you plan to do?” Ran Lin asked after a deep breath.

Lu Yiyao realized this was a classic question, and so his answer was standard. “Not much. I told you just so you’d be cautious in the future.”

Ran Lin: “Don’t worry. I will be.”

…Can’t you follow the outline!

Ran Lin, seeing Lu Yiyao’s expression, asked uncertainly, “Isn’t that what you wanted me to do? To be cautious? Is there anything else?”

Lu Yiyao smiled at his friend. “No, nothing else.”

He couldn’t very well say he was frustrated because Ran Lin’s quick agreement didn’t give him a chance to share his prepared life philosophies.

Ran Lin gave Lu Yiyao a puzzled look but didn’t press further.

He took out his phone, opened a chat group, and silently stared at the members’ icons.

Lu Yiyao leaned in to look and suddenly commented, “The group name isn’t great.”

Ran Lin understood—the uprising of Chen Sheng and Wu Guang ultimately ended in failure and division.

A knock on the door interrupted them.

Lu Yiyao was startled and put away his phone, getting up to open the door. It turned out to be a waiter bringing a complimentary dish for spending a certain amount.

The waiter’s arrival broke the heavy atmosphere in the room. Once he left, Ran Lin turned off his phone and put it back in his pocket.

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. “I thought you would call him.”

Ran Lin: “Would you have stopped me?”

Lu Yiyao: “Yes.”

Ran Lin: “Do you think I’m naive?”

Lu Yiyao: “No, that’s too kind a term. It would be foolish.”

Ran Lin: “……”

Lu Yiyao, watching Ran Lin’s frustrated yet helpless reaction, finally felt a bit of joy in the heavy dinner.

Ran Lin knew Lu Yiyao was doing it on purpose. In the end, he helplessly rolled his eyes at him and finally started eating.

Lu Yiyao’s concerns were eased.

Ran Lin was calmer and more insightful than he had imagined.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t angry or hurt—just too understanding of the industry. Like Fang Xian in the drama, who understood why Tang Jingyu did what he did despite knowing his father was the culprit behind the Tang Clan’s tragedy.

But Tang Jingyu, like Zhang Beichen, received the same treatment—understood but unforgiven.

The only difference was that Fang Xian took a more drastic approach, while Ran Lin kept his feelings buried deep inside. If Zhang Beichen called now to explain, would Ran Lin forgive him? Lu Yiyao didn’t know because that ‘if’ didn’t happen.

Suddenly, Ran Lin asked, “When did you find out about this?”

Lu Yiyao looked up at Ran Lin and answered truthfully, “Yesterday.”

Ran Lin frowned, realizing he had overlooked an important question. “How did you get the photo and the recording?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “I have my ways.”

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes.

Lu Yiyao smiled candidly.

Ran Lin was suddenly puzzled. A question had been lingering since Lu Yiyao showed the photo and recording, but he was confused just now and didn’t bother to ask. “Aren’t you angry?”

After thinking for a moment, Lu Yiyao said, “I was very angry when it first happened, but by the time I knew the truth… not so much. Maybe I was already over it.”

Ran Lin looked at him intently. “What about feeling sad?”

Lu Yiyao pondered before slowly shaking his head.

Ran Lin was about to speak, but Lu Yiyao preempted him. “If it were you who did this, I would be very angry and sad.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, not sure why, and was afraid to hear more.

But Lu Yiyao was waiting for a response. “Aren’t you going to ask why?”

Ran Lin was in agony, clenched his teeth tightly, and silently reminded himself that impulsiveness is the devil.

“Alright, I’ll tell you.” Without waiting for a question, Teacher Lu answered himself. “Because you, Ran Lin, are my, Li Yiyao’s, friend. It doesn’t matter what tier either of us is in, or whether we are artists or not. Even if one of us was a taxi driver and the other a traffic officer, if you gave me a ticket, I would still be very upset.” 

“But… issuing a ticket for a traffic violation is justified.”

“…It’s just a metaphor!”

Ran Lin watched Lu Yiyao’s serious expression and felt as if his heart was filled with sweetness, melting away the bitterness.

Lu Yiyao then said, “Besides Zhang Beichen’s issue, I also wanted to talk about us today.”

Ran Lin was sipping soup when he heard this and dropped his spoon back into the bowl with a clink.

Lu Yiyao was puzzled. “I’m not going to eat you. Why such a reaction?”

Ran Lin’s mind was filled with thoughts of being “eaten”, feeling he might go insane.

Lu Yiyao, oblivious to Ran Lin’s thoughts, continued, “I don’t have many close friends in the industry. You’re the first, so I hadn’t encountered these problems before and took some time to analyze and gather information…”

Ran Lin braced himself to hear a lecture on the nuances of friendships in the entertainment industry.

Unexpectedly, Lu Yiyao asked, “If I become embroiled in scandals tomorrow, fall from grace, lose all fans, and no one wants to work with me, would you still consider me a friend?”

Ran Lin was startled by the bleak scenario. “Of course. How could I kick you when you’re down?”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “I’m not looking for sympathy.”

Confused, Ran Lin said, “Just say what you want to say. Questioning might not suit you.”

Lu Yiyao, resigned, got straight to the point. “What I’m saying is, I consider you a friend regardless of your popularity or line. So, do you only consider me a friend because I’m famous?”

Without hesitation, Ran Lin replied, “Of course not. There are many more famous than you.”

“Thank you.” Lu Yiyao breathed deeply, feeling calmer, then continued, “So, don’t worry about public opinion or what fans say. Our life is ours, and so are our friends. We don’t need others’ understanding or explanations, being comfortable with each other is what matters.”

Ran Lin stared at Lu Yiyao, beginning to grasp his meaning, feeling turmoil in his heart.

Feeling something is one thing, but expressing it is another. Ran Lin hadn’t expected Lu Yiyao to be so candid.

Discussions about popularity and fans’ criticisms were perhaps the most sensitive topics between them, or maybe among all artist friends.

But with Lu Yiyao, nothing was off-limits. There were no grudges or hidden issues. Everything was out in the open, straightforward, and refreshing.

Ran Lin suddenly remembered what Tang Xiaoyu had said earlier that day. “This morning, I was talking to Tang Xiaoyu. He said that being an artist sometimes means being controlled by external circumstances, even affecting relationships between artists. Even close artist friends could grow apart due to factors beyond their control…”

“There are no external factors. All external factors work through internal reasons,” Lu Yiyao said, pointing to his heart. “The ultimate reason is always here.”

Thump, thump…

Ran Lin looked at where Lu Yiyao was pointing but heard his own heart beating.

Loud as a drum.

He suddenly felt unworthy of Lu Yiyao’s honesty.

Friendship is about mutual understanding and sincerity, yet he was harboring different feelings while wearing the guise of “friendship”.

“Do you think I’m very handsome?” Lu Yiyao asked jokingly, watching Ran Lin’s dazed expression. “Are you falling for me?”

Ran Lin involuntarily nodded.

Lu Yiyao felt a strange sensation. Before he could examine it further, he suddenly heard Ran Lin say—

“I don’t just see you as a friend.”

Lu Yiyao was stunned and confused. “Then, as what?”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, suddenly losing his courage to continue.

Lu Yiyao’s brows furrowed, sensing something unusual in Ran Lin’s gaze.

Ran Lin, struggling to breathe under his gaze, finally came up with a response. “…As a very good friend!”

Lu Yiyao pursed his lips in thought, unsure whether he was overthinking or if something was indeed odd.

Ran Lin, cursing his own cowardice, breathed a sigh of relief and began to serve Lu Yiyao food, filling his plate more than his own. “Hurry up. It’s getting cold.”

Lu Yiyao slowly narrowed his eyes, finding his friend’s attentiveness suspicious.

This strange feeling lingered all the way back to the hotel elevator. Ran Lin could feel Lu Yiyao’s confusion and wished he could drown his foolish self in a teacup.

As the elevator reached their floor with a ding, Ran Lin had never found the sound so pleasant.

“Blame Gu Jie for the unlucky name of the WeChat group,” Ran Lin said as he stepped out, leaving those words behind.

Even someone as straightforward as Lu Yiyao sensed the awkwardness and discomfort.

Watching the elevator doors close, Lu Yiyao felt as if another door in his mind was slowly opening.

Meanwhile, Gu Jie, filming in Dalian, sneezed unexpectedly during a scene, resulting in an NG.

Back in Hengdian, Li Tong received a summons from Lu Yiyao.

But after his boss summoned him, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at him, hesitant to speak, as if he was having a fierce ideological struggle in his thoughts.

Li Tong, feeling uneasy under his boss’s gaze, finally spoke up. “Lu Ge, just ask. Whether it’s about million-followers on Weibo or acting, I’m ready for anything!”

Lu Yiyao appreciated his assistant’s professionalism but, after much thought, decided to let him go. “Never mind, you can go back.”

Li Tong left with curiosity and disappointment, suspecting his boss had ventured into a new territory of questions but didn’t trust him enough yet.

After sending off his assistant filled with curiosity and regret, Lu Yiyao messaged Huo Yuntao on WeChat:

[Are you there? I need some advice¹.]

Huo Yuntao’s quick but unfriendly reply came: [If you keep using such archaic language¹, I really won’t be here.]

¹Clarity: Lu Yiyao uses (有事请教) which basically means, “Can I ask you for advice?” but it’s a more polite and formal way of saying it. Given that these two are close friends, Huo Yuntao is teasing him with the way he was asking it.

Lu Yiyao ignored his comment and sent the long-contemplated question: [If a very close same-sex friend says to you, “I don’t just see you as a friend”, how would you interpret it?]

There was no response on WeChat, but a voice call came through.

Upon answering, Huo Yuntao’s first words were, “Even if you spoke classical Chinese, I’d forgive you. Go on, I’m bored lately!”

Some friendships are built on life-and-death experiences.

Some on mutual understanding and connection.

Some on progressing together.

And some on the soul of gossip.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Lu Yiyao felt as if another door in his mind was slowly opening.

…Yes honey, it’s the closet door.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 45

By the time Ran Lin returned to the hotel after work, it was already dark.

On Weibo, his team had posted a stern statement with a red stamp in both his name and the studio’s, succinctly explaining the situation. The statement clarified that all actors, including himself and Lu Yiyao, were staying in the same hotel for the film shoot, making the photographed scene a normal occurrence. The wording was serious, and the stance firm, indicating a readiness to defend their reputation through legal means.

Ran Lin believed that a legal notice would follow soon.

He and Lu Yiyao were innocent, and the studio was confident, so dispelling the rumors with a significant impact was preferred.

The comments were divided, representing various opinions:

Ran’s Family Spicy Noodles: [The filming for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> started on 9/6, and Ran Lin, along with other actors, checked into the XX hotel in Hengdian on 9/5. To date, all the actors are still staying there, including Lu Yiyao. After work, where else would the actors go if not back to the hotel? The rumormongers deliberately spread these lies despite knowing that both were part of the same film crew. It’s malicious.]

Not Helping When the Oil Bottle Falls: [It’s normal for actors from the same crew to stay in the same hotel but note the time of the photo—it was almost midnight. Work had finished long ago. What were the lead and second lead doing out at midnight instead of staying in their rooms? Or what were they doing just returning? If it were the male lead and female lead in the photo, it would be considered a scandal, so why is it a rumor with the second lead?]

Love Yao For Life: [I’m so tired of Ran Lin. Why does Lu Yiyao have to be friends with him? Every time it’s Ran Lin who causes trouble!]

Lu’s Long Road To Cultivation: [I’m a fan of Lu Yiyao, but I don’t think this is a publicity stunt by Ran Lin. He’s not interested in fame in the entertainment industry. Lu Yiyao’s studio has explained that it was three people going out for dinner, a normal interaction among crew members. This news is just malicious slander. Also, it’s obvious that Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin are friends; if we fans keep arguing, it will only make their relationship awkward and put Lu Yiyao in a difficult position.]

Teacher Lu’s Bear: [I think those worrying about fan wars making Lu Yiyao uncomfortable are overthinking. Having been a fan of Lu Yiyao for so long, I believe he’s not the kind to care much about public opinion. He might even be amused by these fan fights.]

Eat Carrots and Worry Light: [I have just one question: wasn’t it supposed to be three people at dinner? Where is Tang Xiaoyu?]

The truth was singular, but when evidence couldn’t conclusively prove it, people tended to believe what they wanted. Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao were indeed filming together—that was undeniable.

But this undeniable evidence couldn’t completely dispel the wild speculations about them entering the hotel together late at night.

Why was it the two of you going out at night?

Why not someone else?

What exactly were you two talking about?

Were those past instances of so-called ‘CP marketing’ just for show, not genuine emotions?

Ran Lin scrolled through comments for half the night.

He believed that, with the skills of Wang Xi and Yao Hong, this nonsensical drama would soon be over.

But he also realized that, after this incident, his relationship with Lu Yiyao might not be able to return to how it was before. Not to mention the distant past, just today, Lu Yiyao hadn’t contacted him at all.

Strangely, he felt surprisingly calm.

Perhaps it was the incident with Zhang Beichen a few days ago that had prepared him for such a future. When the situation played out as he had anticipated, Ran Lin felt a sense of relief that it was just a rumor.

Ran Lin thought that Lu Yiyao might regret becoming friends with him. It was just like what a fan of Lu Yiyao said: Ever since Lu Yiyao met him, he seemed to be constantly facing troubles.

Tired of reading, Ran Lin was about to close Weibo, but then he noticed a new post notification and habitually scrolled down.

After the familiar update sound, a new post appeared from Tang Xiaoyu, posted just two minutes ago—

[Many people have been asking where I was. Well, here I am! The third male lead has rights too. How can you just leave me out? 😭 [View Image]]

The photo was a selfie taken in the private room that night. In the picture, Tang Xiaoyu was closest to the camera, his face the biggest and his smile bright. Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao were further back, both looking down at their phones, not giving a single glance to the third male lead.

Suppressing his laughter, Ran Lin fell back into bed, shaking with mirth. Tang Xiaoyu’s Weibo post wasn’t particularly hilarious, but he just felt like rolling around. If possible, he even felt the urge to go next door and give that person a couple of kisses.

After calming down a bit, Ran Lin picked up his phone again, enlarged the photo, and couldn’t help but comment out loud, “When was this even sneakily taken…”

His voice was full of disdain. His eyes felt sore from the strain.

Tang Xiaoyu’s critical witness statement subtly shifted the direction of public opinion.

Ran Lin spent half an hour reading the comments under Tang Xiaoyu’s Weibo post. Although there were still questions like “Why didn’t they return to the hotel together after dinner?” and “Is the photo really from the same day?”, the fact that Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin’s outfits in the photo matched those they wore entering the hotel, and it aligned with the statement of “three people having dinner together,” convinced most of the previously undecided spectators. They began to believe that this was simply mudslinging for publicity and started a sentimental comment trend saying, “The third male lead also has rights.”

In less than an hour, “The third male lead also has rights” became a trending topic.

Amid this second wave of the drama, another friend contributed to the story—

[At least you’re in the photo. I just want to ask, why didn’t the dinner include the female lead! 😤 // @Tang Xiaoyu: Many people have been asking where I was. Well, here I am! The third male lead has rights too. How can you just leave me out? 😭 [View Image]]

This incident had nothing to do with Xia Ruohan, and she could have remained a mere spectator. However, she decided to get involved, completely diverting the narrative from “Late-night rendezvous between the male leads” to “A cry for humanity from the female lead and the third male lead”, taking it down an entirely unexpected path.

With this, all four main actors of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> were involved, as if summoning a mythical dragon.

Ran Lin, exhausted, finally went to sleep in the late night. Meanwhile, the energetic netizens kept the discussion alive, generating countless topics. Eventually, “This drama crew is too mystical” stood out, rising to the top of trending topics and inadvertently giving free publicity to <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.

The lingering doubts about this being a cover-up for a scandal between two men were drowned out by the flood of jokes and memes.

The next morning, both Lu Yiyao’s and Ran Lin’s teams released “hotel surveillance footage from that night”. The video from the elevator clearly showed the two men exiting on different floors, and the hallway footage conclusively proved that they each returned to their own rooms and didn’t come out again. The last vestiges of doubt evaporated.

This was different from the situation with Zhang Beichen and the two photos. Those photos could be interpreted as brotherly affection or a forbidden young love, open to interpretation. Even after Zhang Beichen’s explanation, people were willing to believe their own imaginations.

But in the case of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, with the female lead and the third male lead vouching for them, plus the hotel surveillance, there was no room left for speculation.

The sternly worded legal notice jointly issued by both teams put an end to the hotel drama.

From the incident’s outbreak to its reversal and the revelation of the truth, it took just one day and one night. Netizens began discussing the impact of malicious rumors on celebrities, expressing maximum sympathy for Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, who were unjustly implicated. No one remembered what they were fervently discussing just a day ago.

……

When Ran Lin arrived at the set the next morning, Tang Xiaoyu was already there, getting his makeup done. Without waiting to sit down, Ran Lin said directly, “Thank you.”

Tang Xiaoyu’s head was being worked on by the stylist, so he could only respond through the mirror. “What’s there to thank? It was just the truth.”

Ran Lin didn’t dwell on pleasantries, just gave him a meaningful look. Tang Xiaoyu felt the pressure of that gaze, as if it conveyed a thousand words.

After makeup, the two handsome heroes strolled onto the set, only to find the female lead, unusually early, sitting on a regular chair waiting for the shoot.

“Good morning,” Ran Lin greeted her. Tang Xiaoyu followed with a smile, used to being in the background, as he was out of the female lead’s line of sight.

Unexpectedly, Xia Ruohan stood up and approached Tang Xiaoyu for a closer look. He felt a shock, reminiscent of a teacher’s gaze suddenly meeting his during a class question.

Swallowing nervously, Tang Xiaoyu waved and smiled weakly, “Morning…”

Xia Ruohan, seemingly satisfied, cheerfully responded, “Morning,” then added, “You too,” without looking at Ran Lin, before skipping back to her rest area.

Tang Xiaoyu, puzzled, asked Ran Lin, “What’s her angle here?”

Ran Lin thought for a moment. “Maybe she’s trying to… be friendly with us?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked despairing. “Does she fancy you, or has she taken a liking to me?”

Ran Lin, bewildered, replied, “You’re overthinking it.”

At lunch, Tang Xiaoyu came over with his meal, looking dejected. “Second Brother, I wasn’t overthinking. She really has taken a liking to me.”

Ran Lin, not understanding, asked, “Who?”

“Xia Ruohan,” Tang Xiaoyu whispered, showing his phone to Ran Lin. “She followed me on Weibo… I knew something was off when she reposted my Weibo yesterday. What do I do? I have a girlfriend…”

Ran Lin laughed so hard he couldn’t breathe. When he finally composed himself, he showed his phone to Tang Xiaoyu. “She followed me too.”

Tang Xiaoyu was stunned. “Last night?”

Ran Lin thought about it. “Probably. I saw it first thing in the morning.”

Tang Xiaoyu asked, “Did you follow her back?”

“Of course,” Ran Lin replied without hesitation. “I don’t want her to get impatient and come looking for me like she did with you this morning.”

Realization dawned on Tang Xiaoyu, his eyes weary. “No wonder she kept glancing at me all morning… Super creepy…”

Ran Lin cherished this lively fish.

While Tang Xiaoyu hurried to follow the female lead and send friendly signals, Ran Lin found himself thinking about the male lead. Lu Yiyao’s team B scenes would take three days, meaning they wouldn’t meet until the day after tomorrow, unless Lu Yiyao contacted him privately.

But since the leaked photos, Lu Yiyao hadn’t reached out to him.

Wang Xi advised Ran Lin to keep his distance from Lu Yiyao for the time being. Considering Yao Hong’s position, she would have likely given even more stern advice. If their roles were reversed and Ran Lin was a popular young star, he would unhesitatingly continue being friends with Lu Yiyao after the rumor was dispelled because he liked him and didn’t want to become strangers. But the reality was he didn’t have that standing; he was just emerging from obscurity. He liked Lu Yiyao, so he thought more for Lu Yiyao’s sake. Unable to help him, the least he could do was not be a hindrance.

So regardless of Wang Xi’s advice, Ran Lin decided not to impose himself on Lu Yiyao any further.

……

Lu Yimeng, or more precisely, someone sent by Mother Lu, finally cornered the three paparazzi in their room early that morning. Leading the team was Da Chu, Mother Lu’s most trusted bodyguard, skilled and educated and capable of handling tough situations. The approach was clear, as Lu Yiyao had explained through Lu Yimeng. After cornering the paparazzi, Da Chu first confiscated their phones, then handed them the two photos of entering the hotel.

The sweatpants, curly hair, and bald guy were already paralyzed with fear. Having been in the business for many years, they had seen furious celebrities and encountered bodyguards who resorted to violence at the drop of a hat. However, this kind of terror—being cornered without a word and suffocated by sheer oppressive force—was a first for them.

It’s not that they feared a confrontation; it was the silence that unnerved them. In the prolonged silence, they had imagined a thousand ways they could meet their end.

Curly hair, the most experienced of the trio, became the emotional anchor for the others. One clutched his left hand, the other his right arm, as if seeking refuge.

Swallowing hard, curly hair braced himself and spoke up from the carpet. “This-this is illegal detention!”

His point was valid, but his presence was weak, like a flickering candle in the wind.

Da Chu wasn’t really planning to harm them. After initially asserting his dominance, he moved on to a more emotional appeal. “Did you take these photos?”

His tone softened, more like a scholar than a bodyguard. Curly hair’s intellect, which had momentarily deserted him, slowly returned. Glancing at the photos, he realized the gist and quickly responded, “No, we didn’t take these photos, nor did we leak the information. That’s not even a leak; it’s just a rumor. Our studio only deals with real news; we never fabricate stories.”

Da Chu pondered for a moment before nonchalantly examining the photos. “Why should I believe you?”

The sweatpants guy retorted, “You can’t question the integrity of us journalists!”

Da Chu was momentarily taken aback by this sudden burst of professional pride and then couldn’t help but smile wryly. Curly hair sensed a change in the atmosphere. Initially, they were intimidated by the silence and imposing presence of the newcomers. But as they began talking, the situation seemed less frightening. Da Chu, in particular, seemed more like a business professional than a thug—someone who could be reasoned with.

“Look.” Curly hair pointed out, referring to the photos. “These are taken at eye level, indicating the photographer and subjects were at the same height. From this many floors up, even with a telephoto lens, it’s impossible to get such an effect.”

Da Chu nodded, seemingly convinced. But when curly hair relaxed, Da Chu added, “You don’t have to be based here permanently; you could have gone downstairs to take the shots.”

“You can check our cameras; we have two here. See if these photos are in them,” curly hair suggested.

“You could have transferred and then deleted them.”

This left curly hair exasperated. “It’s not us. What can I say to make you believe?”

“I believe you,” Da Chu said, standing up and nodding politely with a hint of apology. “Sorry for causing you distress.”

Curly hair was caught off guard, mumbling, “We’re not that delicate…” before being silenced by a pinch from the sweatpants guy and a punch from the bald guy.

Da Chu took out his notebook from his bag and asked politely, “Can I make a copy of the photos in both cameras?”

Curly hair, swallowing hard, asked, “Are you sincerely asking… or is this just for show?”

Da Chu just smiled silently.

The sweatpants guy and the bald guy, very cooperatively, handed over their memory cards.

Curly hair warned them, “You can copy, but don’t delete anything. There are other people’s photos too.”

Da Chu quickly copied and returned everything intact.

“Besides you, how many other paparazzi are working in Hengdian now?”

Curly hair: “We can’t betray our colleagues…”

Da Chu nodded to express his understanding, then simply cracked his knuckles to make a clicking sound.

“But they’re just fabricating stories out of thin air. They’re the scourge of our profession. I’ll start the cleanup myself. Just wait, I’ll go through our WeChat group and make a list for you…”

The sweatpants guy and the bald guy exchanged glances, both impressed by their leader’s quick thinking.

Having obtained the list, Da Chu left without further ado.

As the door gently closed behind him, the three men looked at each other, still unable to snap out of their daze.

The encounter had been so sudden and swift, lasting no more than half an hour. There had been no physical contact, just an overwhelming presence and gaze. If it weren’t for the memory cards in their hands, it would have felt like a dream.

“Quick, check if any photos are missing.” Curly hair was the first to react. He immediately handed the DSLR memory card to the bald guy and went to check the long lens memory card himself.

All the photos were there—except those of Lu Yiyao.

In fact, they hadn’t managed to capture any significant news about Lu Yiyao recently. Their days were just early starts, late returns to the hotel, and Lu Yiyao interacting with his co-stars, which could only make up a story of professionalism and dedication.

But clearly, the other party still didn’t like it.

“Should we call the police?” the bald guy asked.

Curly hair glared at him. “Call for what? Were you beaten or hurt? They were polite from start to finish and just came to ask some questions. Oh, and you think they have no right to keep an eye on you for 24 hours?”

“Should we leave then?” suggested the sweatpants guy.

Curly hair glared at him even harder. “Just because we face a bit of difficulty, we should leave? What about your ambitions, your ideals? A journalist must dare to confront challenges head-on…”

The sweatpants guy and the bald guy, tired of curly hair’s rhetoric, moved aside to whisper among themselves.

Baldhead: “Haven’t you always been following Lu Yiyao? Has something like this happened before?”

Sweatpants: “Absolutely not. I’ve never experienced anything like this.”

Baldhead: “Have you ever reported any news about Lu Yiyao before?”

Sweatpants: “…Not really. That’s why we also follow other leads besides Lu Yiyao.”

Baldhead: “Then how did he know we were here? And how could he send someone so quickly?”

Sweatpants: “……”

Baldhead: “Could it be that Lu Yiyao has always known about our presence, but he’s just open-hearted and didn’t want to confront us?”

Sweatpants: “Comrade, you’re starting to sound more and more like a fan of Lu Yiyao. Your stance seems a bit off.”

Baldhead: “I really do love this job.”

Sweatpants: “That’s great.”

Baldhead: “But nobody told me when I entered this line of work that being a paparazzi could be life-threatening…”

……

Lu Yiyao received a call from Da Chu in the evening of the next day. He trusted Da Chu to handle the situation well, so he waited patiently without contacting him.

“Are you sure?” Lu Yiyao asked after hearing the report. Li Tong, observing his boss’s increasingly somber expression, felt pressure for the first time. He had never known that the usually amiable Lu Yiyao could emanate such an aura.

“Sure,” Da Chu responded succinctly, focusing on the results. “The hotel entrance has its surveillance, which captures everything clearly. We also found the guy. He said the one who asked him to take those photos was Zhang Beichen’s manager, Wu Xuefeng. And to prevent being denied payment, he recorded every conversation. I’ve sent the surveillance photos and the recordings to your email.”

“Okay, I got it.” Lu Yiyao tried to keep his voice even.

“If there’s nothing else for me to do, I’ll be heading back to Beijing tonight. Director Fan is waiting for my report.”

“Thank you for your hard work.” Lu Yiyao genuinely expressed his gratitude and then, as if remembering something, added, “Tell my mom it’s nothing serious, all sorted.”

Da Chu hesitated before speaking. “I probably shouldn’t ask, but now that it’s been figured out…”

Lu Yiyao cut him off. “The rumors have been quelled, and there wasn’t any real damage. I just wanted to confirm my suspicion. Now that it’s confirmed, we just need to be cautious in the future.”

“What if he does something like this again?”

“We’ll deal with it then,” Lu Yiyao said, gazing at the darkening sky. “That’s how it is in this circle. Everyone is out to get each other. Since I’m part of it, I have to play by the rules. I can’t just eliminate everyone I don’t like.”

Da Chu was taken aback.

Despite occasionally using unconventional methods, like intimidating relatively innocent people, he was fundamentally a law-abiding professional bodyguard.

“Alright, I’m not joking anymore,” Lu Yiyao said seriously. “Just report it as I told you.”

Da Chu was silent.

Lu Yiyao understood. “You’re not satisfied?”

After a pause, Da Chu said heavily, “We can’t do anything illegal, but since he’s done this to you, you could at least get back at him…”

“No need,” Lu Yiyao interrupted. “A dog biting me doesn’t mean I have to bite back. Life is short, and I don’t want to waste a second on such people. As long as I manage my own affairs and life well, these people will naturally fade away.”

Da Chu asked, “How will they fade away?”

Lu Yiyao answered, “They’ll die of jealousy.”

Da Chu was speechless.

Every conversation with Lu Yiyao always left Da Chu feeling enlightened, his perspective elevated.

……

The truth of the matter wasn’t surprising. After all, the incidents happened too close together. Zhang Beichen’s old photos had just been leaked when he and Ran Lin were photographed in a well-orchestrated smear campaign. It was highly suspicious.

However, the perpetrator wasn’t just anyone; it was Zhang Beichen, whom Ran Lin considered a friend. Lu Yiyao couldn’t make baseless accusations without evidence, which was why he had involved his sister and called in Da Chu.

For the first time since his career began, he had involved his family in industry matters.

But it was worth it.

From his boss’s few words, Li Tong could guess it was about the hotel incident and that his boss had likely uncovered the mastermind behind it. But how his boss found out and who he used was beyond Li Tong’s knowledge, possibly even unknown to Yao Hong. Thinking about this, Li Tong felt a chill down his spine, sensing a dark cloud looming behind his boss, ready to extinguish any ill-intentioned approach.

Lu Yiyao, unaware of his assistant’s feelings from work to the hotel, was preoccupied with two people—Yao Hong and Ran Lin, especially the latter.

They hadn’t contacted each other in the past few days while working separately. Lu Yiyao was waiting for Da Chu’s investigation results and also contemplating his relationship with Ran Lin. If Ran Lin’s status was similar to his, things would be entirely different. Even their fans might accept their friendship. But the reality was their status differed significantly, and their relationship had been turbulent from the start, with various rumors constantly circulating. He was fine but Ran Lin must have felt the pressure.

Yet, they never discussed these issues.

Lu Yiyao valued straightforwardness in friendships. If he and Ran Lin were outsiders, things would be simpler. But in the entertainment industry, even simple matters become complicated.

After this incident, he felt it was necessary to have an open discussion with Ran Lin. But before that, he needed to contact Yao Hong.

Back at the hotel, Lu Yiyao downloaded the photos and recordings from his email, confirmed the facts, and then called Yao Hong. He didn’t discuss the process, just the results.

Yao Hong wasn’t surprised, asking the same question Lu Yiyao had asked Da Chu, “Are you sure?”

Lu Yiyao replied simply, “Yes.”

Yao Hong asked for evidence, and he confirmed he had photos and recordings.

Yao Hong didn’t probe further. Lu Yiyao had his methods and didn’t wish to divulge them, so she respected his privacy.

“What will you do next?” she asked. From the moment the incident happened, she and Wang Xi suspected Zhang Beichen’s involvement, but suspicion and evidence were different matters, and they had to extinguish the fire first.

Lu Yiyao maintained his stance. “I haven’t thought much about it, just be cautious in the future.”

Yao Hong suggested, “If you release the recordings, Zhang Beichen’s career is over.”

Lu Yiyao felt as if Yao Hong and Da Chu were reading from the same script. “Leave a way out for others, and you leave a path for yourself. Especially with villains, if you corner them, they might cause real trouble out of desperation.”

Yao Hong laughed. “Now it sounds like you’re educating me.” Though she felt these were rare, profound words coming from Li Yiayo.

Incidents like being smeared happen every day in the circle, and Lu Yiyao had been targeted before. This time, however, they had evidence, unlike in previous cases where nothing was done. If they were to settle scores, few in the industry would remain clean. Unspoken rules governed their world.

While Yao Hong was reflecting internally, Lu Yiyao was also not at peace. He suddenly realized that his philosophical response wasn’t a result of his own worldly wisdom but something his father, Lu Guoming, had taught him during countless summer and winter vacations.

It was a minor detail in the traditional education forcibly imparted to him, and he couldn’t even remember at what age he had heard it.

He thought he had forgotten it.

“Then let’s leave it at that.” Yao Hong, understanding the entertainment industry better than Da Chu, spoke pragmatically. “After all, the situation has stabilized without causing any substantial harm. Just focus on your filming and try to avoid any interaction with Zhang Beichen. There’s no need to even be polite to that kind of person.”

Lu Yiyao understood. He didn’t have much of a relationship with Zhang Beichen anyway, so the truth didn’t impact him much. His concern was for Ran Lin…

“By the way, Hong Jie.” Having discussed the investigation results, he moved on to another matter. “I’ve been shooting with Group B these past days and haven’t seen Ran Lin, but I will return to Group A tomorrow.”

Yao Hong picked up on the underlying meaning in Lu Yiyao’s word. “So you still plan to get closer to Ran Lin?”

“It’s not about getting closer or not, just continuing the friendship. Who I befriend is my choice. I won’t let news or fans dictate my decisions.”

“But you’re an artist. You rely on your reputation, popularity, and fans for your livelihood. Do you know how many fans you lost because of your collaboration with Ran Lin?”

“I feel like I’ve gained more fans, actually. There are so many CP fans asking for ‘sugar’ every day.”

“You always have an answer for everything!” Yao Hong laughed, despite herself.

Lu Yiyao joined in with a light laugh. Many things, he realized, weren’t that complicated. Once you understood them, the world seemed vast and open. “Hong Jie, being an artist is my profession. It’s my job, and I work to make life better and more fulfilling. I am Lu Yiyao first, and then an artist. If I have to hide who I really am, then what’s the point? Life would be upside down.”

Yao Hong remained silent on the other end of the line. If anyone else had said this, she would have dismissed it as cliché, old-fashioned advice. But her artist, Lu Yiyao, genuinely believed and acted on these words. He saw through many things clearer than anyone else, yet he neither cared for nor wanted to engage in them.

The most beautiful aspect of Lu Yiyao was his openness, purity, and sincerity towards others, himself, and life. This was what Yao Hong wanted to protect most, yet it was also what worried her the most.

“You’ve never really faced hardship…” The agent’s voice was a mix of helplessness and indulgence.

Lu Yiyao had heard this many times before, and as always, he responded cheerfully, “Well, I’ll worry about that when it happens.”

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Might be sooner than you think.

On a side note, I really don’t understand fandoms (especially eastern fandoms). It seems to me they see artists as commodities more than actual human beings and would get angry or become anti-fans at the mere rumor if they are dating… As if they live in some kind of alternative reality that these artists they vie for would one day choose them or something.

Artists are humans too and deserve to experience things that any normal human should have (like dating). Love their art, support them, and leave their private lives alone.

But I digress.

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