Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 44

Tang Xiaoyu, seeing the expressions of the two, knew this wasn’t news to them. He sighed. “I don’t know who’s behind this, but it’s really disgusting what they did.”

Ran Lin lowered his eyes, hiding his emotions.

Lu Yiyao quietly refilled his cup with tea before saying to Tang Xiaoyu, “It’s just two photos, not hard to deal with.”

“Public relations isn’t difficult, but it needs to be quick. Otherwise, as the rumors spread, they’ll leave a lasting impression, and it’ll be too late for any clarification.”

“This afternoon, a stern statement was already released,” Lu Yiyao said, addressing Tang Xiaoyu but actually for Ran Lin’s benefit. “The issue shouldn’t be a big problem.”

In the statement, Zhang Beichen’s team explained that the photos were just innocent fun with a close friend from their school days, and they pointed out that this incident was a deliberate smear campaign, vowing to pursue legal actions.

Whether or not they would actually take legal steps was uncertain, but at least it showed the public their stance.

“Releasing a statement is just the first step. Whether they can quickly control the spread of the topic and mitigate the negative reactions is what’s most important,” Tang Xiaoyu said, then took out his phone to check Weibo again. After a while, he shook his head. “The situation has been blown out of proportion. It’ll be difficult to calm down in a short time.”

That was the purpose of the initiator.

If they could ruin Zhang Beichen’s career, that would be ideal, but even if they couldn’t, tarnishing his reputation or casting a lifelong shadow of suspicion would be enough.

The same notification sound from WeChat rang out twice in unison.

Tang Xiaoyu thought he was hearing things.

Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao simultaneously picked up their phones and opened WeChat. Gu Jie had popped up in the Chen Sheng Wu Guang group—

[@Zhang Beichen, are you okay?]

Zhang Beichen responded quickly—[I’m fine, thanks.]

Gu Jie—[Don’t overthink. The truth will prevail.]

Ran Lin looked at Gu Jie’s message with mixed feelings.

He had wanted to message Zhang Beichen at noon but recalled what Wang Xi said about avoiding trouble during sensitive times.

Ran Lin admitted, he was afraid.

Zhang Beichen, caught in the whirlwind of public opinion, might be him one day.

Compared to him, Gu Jie was much more straightforward.

“I agree with Gu Jie, don’t overthink. Focus on filming and let your work speak for itself.” Ran Lin recorded this voice message, wanting to let Zhang Beichen know he had friends who cared about him.

Lu Yiyao’s response was more concise—[+1]

Ran Lin glanced at him, and Lu Yiyao justified confidently, “You guys said everything already. I could only add.”

Tang Xiaoyu felt a bit surprised and somewhat ashamed.

He wasn’t close to Zhang Beichen, not inclined to kick him while he was down, nor to offer help. He just wanted to casually chat about a fellow artist’s news, not expecting that they were good enough friends to be in the same WeChat group.

True friends in the industry are rare, especially among artists of the same age and level, often competing for the same resources. Many who seem to have strong bonds on the surface actually wish for each other’s downfall in secret.

The friendship between Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin was indeed rare.

But then again, watching these two on their phones, replying to messages, exchanging glances, why did he always feel like he was photoshopped into this private room?

……

Zhang Beichen’s Room, a certain hotel.

Wu Xuefeng was already at his wit’s end, watching his artist lying there, playing with his phone, sending WeChat messages. He was almost spitting blood, his words nearly squeezed out through clenched teeth. “You seem pretty relaxed…”

Zhang Beichen lay on the bed, propped up by two pillows, legs crossed in an unappealing manner. “Didn’t we already issue a statement? What else do you want me to do? Hold a press conference to denounce the rumormonger?”

“What’s the use of issuing a statement? People only like spreading rumors, not clarifying them!” Wu Xuefeng was getting worked up again. “Did your brain get squashed by a door? How could you take such photos?”

Having heard this countless times since the incident, Zhang Beichen was tired of it. He sat up abruptly. “What did I take? Did I strip or go to bed with someone? Just those two lousy photos, what can they prove!”

“Are you sure there’s nothing more? What if new photos come out in a few days?”

“Brother, I was just in high school then…”

“What about after entering the industry?” Wu Xuefeng raised an eyebrow at him, sarcasm behind his glasses. “Are you sure you’ve been clean?”

“I’m not stupid. What era are we in, still taking keepsake photos?” Zhang Beichen, uninterested, lowered his head to play with his phone again.

Wu Xuefeng slowly felt reassured.

He didn’t believe in Zhang Beichen’s purity, but he absolutely trusted his artist’s intelligence. If Zhang Beichen were hopelessly foolish, they wouldn’t have worked together until now.

The statement was out; the immediate priority was to calm public opinion as soon as possible.

As for the person behind the scenes, there was no rush; they could always be found out.

The public is forgetful. As soon as new gossip arises, who will remember a rumor that has been debunked and lacks any solid evidence or follow-up?

However, the entertainment industry has been too quiet recently, which is why the perpetrator chose this moment to leak the information.

Wu Xuefeng tiredly took off his glasses, pulled out a lens cloth, and started wiping them intently…

“I agree with Gu Jie, don’t overthink. Focus on filming and let your work speak for itself.”

[+1]

Listening to Ran Lin’s voice and seeing Lu Yiyao’s digit, Zhang Beichen’s lips, which were tightly pressed, unconsciously relaxed and curved into a slight smile.

“Who’s that?” Wu Xuefeng stopped wiping his glasses, curiously asking.

He recognized the voice from the speaker as somewhat familiar, but for Wu Xuefeng, it wasn’t familiar enough to recognize immediately.

“Chen Sheng Wu Guang.” As Zhang Beichen uttered these words, a hint of warmth crossed his heart.

Wu Xuefeng knew it was the guest group from the reality show “Drifting Story”, but he didn’t expect that long after the recording, there was still interaction in the group, especially at this time. “They all came to console you?”

Zhang Beichen showed a smile that wasn’t quite a smile. “Except for Xia Xinran.”

“That’s the problem with being in the same company, knowing each other too well,” Wu Xuefeng said as he put his glasses back on and reached out his hand towards Zhang Beichen.

Zhang Beichen was puzzled.

Wu Xuefeng rolled his eyes and gestured with his fingers, motioning upward. “Let me also appreciate your revolutionary friendship.”

Zhang Beichen shrugged indifferently and handed his phone to his agent.

With just a few words, Wu Xuefeng had almost seen enough. He laughed. “A few polite words and you’re this moved?”

Zhang Beichen coldly curled his lips. “Not everyone will say polite words to you. Since this happened, only those three have messaged me.”

Wu Xuefeng chuckled. “Does Lu Yiyao’s message count? It looks more like a casual agreement.”

Zhang Beichen was clear-headed. “He’s close with Ran Lin, and I’m not bad with Ran Lin, so as long as Ran Lin is there, we’ll always be friends.”

Wu Xuefeng had never quite understood. “What exactly did Ran Lin do to win Lu Yiyao’s undying loyalty?” As far as he knew, Lu Yiyao’s team was quite upset when they were initially bundled together for hype.

Zhang Beichen was about to say that rapport can’t really be explained, but then he remembered what he had noticed during their late-night snack and swallowed his words, saying ambiguously with a teasing smile, “Maybe they developed real feelings during the reality show…”

Wu Xuefeng raised an eyebrow at this but remained noncommittal, looking back at the nearly simultaneous messages in the chat group thoughtfully.

……

Finally finding his moment on the way back to the hotel, Tang Xiaoyu’s girlfriend called him.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin watched him step a few meters away to take the call, smiling.

The night was deep, and the streets were quiet. Even a few meters apart, they could hear Tang Xiaoyu’s “Okay, okay,” “Don’t move, I’m coming to pick you up,” “Yes, yes, a kiss, mwah.”

The two men exchanged a knowing smile.

Tang Xiaoyu, having ended the call, came back. “You guys go ahead to the hotel. I need to pick up a friend.”

Ran Lin asked softly, “Has she arrived?”

Tang Xiaoyu, forgetting his defenses for a moment, replied naturally: “Yeah, she just got here and can’t find the hotel, so I have to go pick her up.”

Lu Yiyao immediately responded considerately, “Then hurry up. Don’t let your girlfriend wait too long. It’s late and not safe.”

“Yes, exactly.” Tang Xiaoyu seemed to find a confidant. “I told her. Coming a day later is fine. No need to rush here at midnight…”

He stopped midway, realizing his slip.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin didn’t say anything, but their faces were already beaming with amusement.

“…Sneaky!” Tang Xiaoyu managed to say after a long pause.

Ran Lin struggled to suppress his laughter, taking a couple of deep breaths before patting his friend on the shoulder. “Remember, try not to take live interviews in the future.”

Tang Xiaoyu took the loss graciously. Fortunately, he hadn’t let slip his girlfriend’s name, and he didn’t think these two were gossips, so he didn’t dwell on it, saying simply, “Then I’m off to see her. You guys head back to the hotel.”

Knowing how much Tang Xiaoyu wanted to keep his true love hidden, they didn’t press for gossip. After a simple reminder to watch out for safety and paparazzi, they went their separate ways.

Back at the hotel, Ran Lin pondered over Zhang Beichen’s situation for a long time. One moment he was worried about Zhang Beichen, and the next he imagined himself in a similar scenario. His mind was a mess of thoughts, and he couldn’t focus on reading the script for the next day. He didn’t even realize when he fell asleep.

Ran Lin set his phone alarm for 4:55, 5:00, and 5:15 a.m. every day. Usually, fifteen minutes was enough for washing up, and he’d be downstairs by 5:30 AM to catch the crew’s car. After arriving at the set, there was still makeup and styling to do before the 8:00 a.m. start.

But today, the sound came unusually early.

Ran Lin even felt like he hadn’t slept much.

And it wasn’t the phone alarm, but someone… knocking?

Ran Lin instantly woke up with a start and sat up swiftly, his first reaction being that something had gone wrong, his heart pounding with fear.

“Ran Ge…” Through the door, Liu Wanwan’s voice sounded uncertain.

Ran Lin let out a sigh of relief and gradually calmed down, finding it funny to himself. He must have had some nightmare that he forgot upon waking, still in a state of tension.

Getting out of bed, Ran Lin, dressed in a tank top and shorts, opened the door. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up? It’s time to head to the set…” Liu Wanwan, looking puzzled, then realized that Ran Lin seemed like he had just woken up, uncertainly said, “Ran Ge, you haven’t washed your face or brushed your teeth yet?”

Ran Lin frowned, yawning sleepily. “What time is it? My alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

Liu Wanwan stared at him intently and said seriously, “Brother, it’s 5:25.”

Ran Lin was stunned, his mouth still open mid-yawn, frozen in place.

Liu Wanwan guessed, “Did you forget to charge your phone?”

Ignoring his assistant, Ran Lin rushed back into the room and picked up his phone from the bedside table. Indeed, it was dead, completely powered off.

“Give me five minutes!” Dropping this phrase, Ran Lin dashed into the bathroom.

Liu Wanwan sighed, thinking this wasn’t Ran Lin’s style; he was always meticulous, so how could he have forgotten to charge his phone.

Ran Lin, brushing his teeth, looked at his dark circles in the mirror, sighing with mixed feelings.

Despite rushing, Ran Lin was still five minutes late. He immediately apologized to the driver.

After a month and a half of working together, the driver was familiar with him and waved it off indifferently. “Five minutes is nothing. I’ve waited for five hours before.”

With that, he pressed the gas pedal and headed straight for the set.

While getting his makeup done, the makeup artist teased Ran Lin, “Did you go out stealing last night? Look at those dark circles. You could rival a panda.”

Tang Xiaoyu, also getting makeup done nearby, was baffled, thinking that it was he who had had a passionate night, while Ran Lin looked utterly drained.

But after the makeup, the dark circles were no longer visible.

Today, in Group A’s drama scenes, Ran Lin was still acting with the female lead, but there were a few scenes where Xu Chongfei had to be in the background, so Tang Xiaoyu was also present, ready to enter the frame at any time. Lu Yiyao was filming with Group B at another location for scenes in the Bodhi Temple with Abbot Hai Kong. According to the schedule, Ran Lin wouldn’t see Lu Yiyao for the entire day.

Previously, when filming in separate groups from Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin would always unconsciously think about the scenes Lu Yiyao was filming and how he was acting. It was unintentional, like someone who’s always around suddenly isn’t there one day, making you feel that something’s off and compelling you to keep thinking about that absent partner.

But today, not having Lu Yiyao in Group A oddly gave Ran Lin some peace of mind.

Otherwise, seeing him would remind Ran Lin of his hopeless and risky unrequited love, which would indeed distract him during acting.

Murphy’s Law says, if you worry about something happening, it’s more likely to occur.

When Liu Wanwan handed over the phone saying, “Xi Jie is looking for you. It’s urgent,” Ran Lin thought of this law.

In fact, since the alarm didn’t go off this morning and Liu Wanwan knocked on his door, waking him up with a start, it seemed to foreshadow that something was going to happen today.

“Just focus on filming on set. Don’t say a word. Don’t take any interview calls. Leave everything to me. These kinds of baseless rumors without solid evidence aren’t hard to deal with, but…” Wang Xi’s voice lowered, almost warningly, “Privately, you can’t have any contact with Lu Yiyao, at least for this period. We can’t give people another chance to speculate, understand?”

“Yeah.” Ran Lin didn’t know what else to say.

Many times, things happen without warning, and then, under the instigation of those with ulterior motives and the public’s eagerness for gossip, they spread like wildfire, engulfing him. He could only watch helplessly as the flames soared high into the sky.

Liu Wanwan had already received the news during Ran Lin’s filming and saw the updates. She felt especially sorry for Ran Lin, softly advising, “Xi Jie said it’s fine, so it’s fine. Besides, Lu Yiyao’s team is there too. These kinds of frivolous news are common, just sensational headlines; no one takes them seriously.”

Ran Lin moved his lips as if trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. His eyes fixated on the phone screen, where his and Lu Yiyao’s names had once again landed on the hot search, but this time with an additional keyword—Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin, hotel room.

……

During lunch break on the set of Group B’s drama scenes.

Everyone was eating boxed lunches when Lu Yiyao was pulled aside by Li Tong to take a call from his agent.

Yao Hong was calling Lu Yiyao’s phone, while his assistant considerately handed over his own phone to Lu Yiyao, displaying the news that had been spreading like wildfire on Weibo all morning—

[Shocking Same-Sex Love in the Entertainment Industry, Photos of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin Entering a Hotel Room Exposed!]

“What exactly did you do last night?” Yao Hong, in Lu Yiyao’s studio in Beijing, was overwhelmed by this news, as the entire PR team was in a frenzy.

“We just had dinner, and Tang Xiaoyu was with us.” Lu Yiyao, looking at the two photos on Weibo, didn’t think the situation was too serious but was more angry than anything else.

The photos were taken on the evening of that dinner, capturing the moment he and Ran Lin entered the side door of a hotel. They seemed to be continuous shots, with the only difference being their distance from the hotel’s side door.

In the photos, he and Ran Lin weren’t doing anything inappropriate; they were just walking side by side into the hotel while chatting, a completely normal interaction between friends.

But with the marketing accounts’ spin of “late-night secret meetings,” “hotel room rendezvous,” “tender words exchanged,” “oblivious to others,” the story took on a life of its own, thrilling the gossipy public.

In just one morning, the news about “Lu Yiyao spending the night with a male star in a hotel” swept through Weibo like a hurricane.

“Tang Xiaoyu was there? Why isn’t he in the photos? Were they edited out?” Yao Hong’s immediate concern was to ascertain the truth. Only by understanding the whole situation could she develop an effective response.

Lu Yiyao pondered for two seconds before replying, “He had something else to do after dinner and didn’t return to the hotel with us.”

“Do you think he might come forward to explain for you?” Yao Hong was genuinely asking, needing to explore all possible solutions.

Lu Yiyao fell silent.

He thought Tang Xiaoyu might help if it didn’t endanger his girlfriend, but now he couldn’t be sure, as everyone had their own concerns.

“Which hotel did you have dinner at?” Yao Hong changed the subject.

Lu Yiyao, having chosen the restaurant, knew the details well and provided the name, address, and the exact time they had dinner.

Yao Hong noted everything down, then said, “Just focus on your filming. Leave everything else to me. Don’t answer any calls… Actually, don’t answer any calls at all. I’ll coordinate with Wang Xi. We’ll synchronize our statements and try to debunk this rumor as fast as possible, reversing the public opinion.”

Lu Yiyao narrowed his eyes. He was angry, but not at the rumor itself; Yao Hong’s serious approach made him realize the situation might be more complicated. “Ran Lin and I are filming together and staying in the same hotel. How could anyone believe such a nonsensical story?”

There was a moment of silence on the phone before Yao Hong said, “There’s someone behind this.”

Lu Yiyao’s expression slowly turned cold.

Since his debut, he had been subjected to slander and rumors, usually out of jealousy or frustration at losing good opportunities to him. But this time, involving Ran Lin, was especially intolerable for him.

And in the comments, some were accusing Ran Lin of fabricating the story.

Using a scandal that could ruin an acting career for publicity was absurd.

Yao Hong, clearly seeing through the situation, knew both he and Ran Lin were victims, hence her suggestion to coordinate with Wang Xi.

“Can we find out who’s behind it?” Lu Yiyao asked about the instigator.

“For now, we don’t have time for that. Debunking the rumor is the priority,” Yao Hong said calmly. “It’s not a big deal. Just focus on your filming.”

Lu Yiyao looked up at the intricately carved eaves overhead, lost in thought.

“Don’t have any more private contact with Ran Lin for the time being,” Yao Hong added.

Lu Yiyao’s brow furrowed imperceptibly, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“It does,” Yao Hong replied steadily. “Everyone is watching you two now. Any little thing could be exaggerated and misconstrued. Do you know if there are paparazzi on the set? Do you know which of your words or actions could be taken out of context?”

“I’ll be careful,” Lu Yiyao said.

Yao Hong sighed. “If you could be absolutely discreet, today’s incident wouldn’t have happened.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, no longer speaking.

Yao Hong knew he had taken her words to heart. She understood that while others saw Lu Yiyao as a gentleman with a mild temperament, he was actually someone who could endure and restrain himself. Deep down, he was fiercely indignant, ready to challenge any injustice.

Feeling more empathetic towards him, Yao Hong reassured him softly, “Don’t worry, I’m here. Just do well in this film, and when you rise high enough, these things won’t matter anymore.”

It was a beautiful day, with clear skies and a gentle breeze.

But as Lu Yiyao looked up, all he could see was the red, flaking paint on the eaves.

“Lu Ge?” Li Tong, seeing Lu Yiyao standing still after hanging up the phone, asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing.” Lu Yiyao smiled at his assistant. “I’d like some coffee.”

They were on a film set with only tea available. Wanting coffee meant going out to buy it, and there was no telling how far he’d have to go. But seeing his boss, entangled in a scandal, looking so forlorn, Li Tong didn’t hesitate. “Just a moment, Lu Ge. I’ll get your coffee right away!”

As Li Tong dashed off, Lu Yiyao’s smile faded. By the time he made another call, his expression had turned icy.

Everyone in Group B knew about the scandal involving their leading man. Since it was lunch break, no one wanted to intrude; they all kept their distance, giving Lu Yiyao space under the corner eaves.

“Is five people enough? Mom also saw the news and is really angry. She said not just five people, but fifty could be sent over on a chartered flight for you.”

His sister’s words, spoken in just a few sentences, dispelled much of the anger clouding his heart. Lu Yiyao’s icy demeanor thawed somewhat. “No need. Five is enough. Too many would attract attention, and there are only three of them over there.”

Lu Yimeng was still uneasy. “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” Lu Yiyao said. “They’ve been watching me since I joined the crew. It’s always the same three people, and two of them are old friends who have been with me since the year before last, even longer than my assistant.”

Lu Yimeng frowned. “They really are devoted to you. You’re quite patient.”

“Every profession is tough. We all need to eat. It’s okay as long as there’s a limit,” Lu Yiyao said, pausing. When he looked up again, his eyes had turned cold again. “But this time, they crossed the line.”

……

Though they were both in Hengdian Film and Television Studios, the filming area of Zhang Beichen’s crew and that of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> were far apart, in two completely different scenic areas within the studio. The crew of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> was already resting at noon, while Zhang Beichen’s crew was still busy.

Due to the second female lead, the progress of the crew had been severely slowed down. She was someone the investors had forcefully inserted, and everyone in the crew, though angry, dared not speak out. They could only use their rest time to extend working hours to make up for the lost progress.

Zhang Beichen had hardly had a moment to breathe all morning.

Finally, during a group scene, with more time needed for props and extra coordination, he managed to find a moment to sit on a lounge chair to rest and check his phone, wanting to see if his scandal was still fermenting or if there had been any turnaround.

His face changed as soon as he saw it.

He quickly stood up and moved to a secluded corner, dialing his agent’s phone number at the hotel. As soon as the other side picked up, he didn’t wait for them to speak and asked aggressively, “Was it you who did it?”

Wu Xuefeng seemed prepared and replied naturally, “Yeah, it’s quite effective, isn’t it? See, how many people are still talking about those two lousy photos of yours?”

Zhang Beichen, trying hard to contain his urge to roar, asked, “Why didn’t you tell me before you did it!”

“If I had told you, would it have been done?” Wu Xuefeng asked lightly in return.

Zhang Beichen almost squeezed the words out of his teeth. “They, are, my, friends.”

“I knew you would react this way, so I acted first and reported later,” Wu Xuefeng said calmly, his tone getting lighter, indicating his confidence. “Can friends be eaten as food? What did they do when you were in trouble? Oh right, they sent two insipid condolences and then disappeared. Remember, at any time, the only ones who can help you are yourself and me.”

Zhang Beichen’s chest heaved violently, but he couldn’t find words to refute.

Wu Xuefeng knew his artist well. He could speak harshly, and the harsher and more straightforward he was, the quicker Zhang Beichen understood. But after being harsh, he always offered some comfort. “Don’t worry too much. Such rumors won’t last long with Yao Hong and Wang Xi around. A stir and a denial, and it will soon pass.”

Before Zhang Beichen could respond, Wu Xuefeng brought up another matter. “We found the person who leaked your photos, Li Zimo.”

Zhang Beichen frowned. “Who is that?”

Wu Xuefeng explained, “The one previously with Mr. Qin, who knows he was replaced by you, wasn’t content.”

“He’s crazy.” Zhang Beichen suddenly felt it was an undeserved disaster. “Mr. Qin has a revolving door of people around him. He wasn’t the first, and I won’t be the last. What’s the use of troubling me?”

“He thought he would be the last,” Wu Xuefeng said, surprisingly empathetic.

“Hah.” Zhang Beichen suddenly wanted to meet this foolish person. “Really funny.”

Wu Xuefeng also found it amusing, but only for now. In the future, he always had to find a way to let this little-known but uncooperative young actor continue to fade into obscurity until he couldn’t stay in the entertainment industry anymore.

But for now, it was more important to completely awaken his own artist—

“In this matter, you should also see that Mr. Qin can give you resources, but he can’t help you with troubles. If you become more famous, he’s willing to play with you for a while longer. If you’re like Li Zimo, who can’t be helped, he’ll discard you quickly. So…” Wu Xuefeng’s voice deepened, somewhat earnest. “The only ones who truly want you to succeed and spare no effort to help you are me and yourself.”

Wu Xuefeng listened to the silence on the other end of the phone, slowly sipping tea from a hotel tea bag, which tasted alright.

“Don’t dwell on it. If they really considered you a friend, they wouldn’t suspect you. Even if they did suspect, they wouldn’t find any evidence. Don’t be foolish enough to confess. There’s never been any leniency for honesty in this circle.”

“That’s why you can’t make real friends.” There seemed to be a laugh on the phone, laced with sarcasm, though it was unclear who was being mocked.

The call ended.

Zhang Beichen opened WeChat and found the chat group Chen Sheng Wu Guang. Just a few irrelevant words, he could almost recite them by heart. But he still wanted to see them again.

After an unknown amount of time.

Zhang Beichen exited WeChat and flipped through his contacts to find Ran Lin’s number. Several times, his finger almost touched the call button.

But in the end, when the assistant came to remind him that it was time to start the next scene, he still hadn’t made the call.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 43

In mid-October, Hengdian finally welcomed autumn. The remnants of the summer heat had faded, and the cold of winter was still far away. It was a time of clear skies and cool breezes.

Xi Ruohan had been with the crew for a month now.

Ran Lin had been avoiding her for about the same time. Unless a scene required them to act together, he kept his distance on set, avoiding appearing within the leading actress’ field of vision. It was obvious that she didn’t like him, and Ran Lin had no desire to throw himself into the line of fire.

Tang Xiaoyu saw this and teased him, saying, “When you play Fang Xian, you’re fearless, but why do you become timid when you return to Earth?”

Ran Lin always laughed it off.

If Xi Ruohan was just a difficult leading actress, Ran Lin wouldn’t have avoided her like this. There are always difficult stars on set, and if you don’t provoke them, they won’t always be out to get you. But the leading actress liked the leading actor. Unfortunately, Ran Lin, playing the second male lead, also liked the leading actor.

Ran Lin always felt that women in love, including those with unrequited love, were very perceptive. They would use high-precision scanning rays on everyone around the person they liked. Ran Lin didn’t think it was necessary to take such a risk.

Fortunately, Xi Ruohan had her own makeup room and was always accompanied by assistants, so she didn’t have much time to bother with him.

But that was before.

Starting tomorrow, the most important scenes between him and Xi Ruohan were about to be filmed.

Ran Lin put down the script he had been studying all night and sighed deeply, feeling an unprecedented pressure.

He could pour his heart out to an imaginary Zhao Buyao, loving until it hurt. But once the face in his mind switched to Xi Ruohan, his love would instantly vanish.

To put it bluntly, Xi Ruohan was like a rival in love for him.

Of course, this relationship was something he could only think about privately. After all, she had pursued Lu Yiyao, and he was still daydreaming here. But privately, they both liked the same man, and now he had to act with full affection towards her, which was both delicate and difficult.

Getting into character was easy to say, but hard to do.

Ran Lin went to the bathroom to wash his face, then returned to bed and picked up the script to read.

After a while, he threw the script onto the bed. The emotionally fluctuating “Fang Xian” began to confess to the void…

……

At the same time, in Lu Yiyao’s room.

Li Tong was packing his boss’s luggage—there was an extremely important event tomorrow, which had been scheduled a long time ago, so Yao Hong had requested leave for her artist in advance when preparing to join the crew.

Yao Hong, who had just arrived from Beijing that day, looked tired but still talked spiritedly with Lu Yiyao, as they hadn’t seen each other for half a month. After filming started, Yao Hong left first. As Lu Yiyao’s agent, she had many things to deal with and couldn’t stay away for the five-month shooting.

Li Tong kept her informed of everything happening on set. But hearing reports and communicating face-to-face with the person involved were different.

“Is Xi Ruohan really that honest?” This was Yao Hong’s most pressing concern.

Lu Yiyao smiled bitterly. “Really very honest. She gets up at five every morning to do makeup, doesn’t rest until eight at night, and sometimes even later. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t have the energy.”

“That’s good.” Yao Hong was, for the first time, happy with the high intensity of the set. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Lu Yiyao assured her naturally, “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

Lu Yiyao’s assurance didn’t comfort Yao Hong. Maybe because he answered too smoothly, she started to overthink.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again, more seriously than before. “Whether it’s Xi Ruohan or other female artists, your fans will find it hard to accept a relationship at this stage, so you must be very careful about romance.”

Lu Yiyao looked helplessly at his agent and hit the nail on the head. “Just say outright that I’m forbidden from dating.”

Yao Hong smiled. “I didn’t want to put it that way in case you found it offensive.”

“It’s indeed not pleasant to hear.” Lu Yiyao forced a smile, partly complaining but mostly understanding. “But I know the pros and cons, and I understand you’re thinking of my future.”

Yao Hong nodded with relief. “When your talent surpasses your popularity, I won’t even interfere if you get married tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao joked, “Yao Hong, I’m only twenty-five.”

Yao Hong was taken aback, then uncertainly asked, “Isn’t your birthday next week?”

Lu Yiyao’s birthday was something Yao Hong wouldn’t forget, as every year various fan groups and artists in the circle would send their blessings.

“Externally, I celebrate my solar birthday, but at home, we’re used to following the lunar calendar, so starting this week, I’m already twenty-five*,” Lu Yiyao explained, showing Yao Hong a photo of a beautiful cake on his phone.

*Clarity: Without going into too much detail, the solar (Gregorian) calendar is calculated as 365 days a year, while the lunar calendar is roughly about 354 days a year. Thus, going by the lunar calendar, one’s birthday date can vary each year (so it can be earlier or later than your solar birthday date).

It was a three-tiered fondant cake with a base of light macaron blue, decorated with classic but not overly complex lace, topped with a small house with a family of four standing in front, hand in hand, happy together.

“My sister made it herself,” Lu Yiyao said, with a hint of pride.

Yao Hong knew about Lu Yiyao’s family background. His parents were divorced, he had a sister, and both parents’ businesses were thriving. But she also knew Lu Yiyao didn’t like talking about his family, so the fact that he brought it up today meant he was in a rare good mood.

“It’s beautiful,” Yao Hong sincerely complimented. “Did she send it to the set?”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “No, she thought it would be too much trouble to transport and said it was enough for me to just see it.”

Yao Hong couldn’t help but chuckle. “What a good sister.”

Lu Yiyao put away his phone, slightly helpless but mostly doting. “Yeah.”

……

Ran Lin had a restless night. His dreams were filled with the tangled love and disputes between Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao. When he was woken up in the morning by his phone’s alarm, he found his blanket lying quietly on the floor, not knowing when he had kicked it off during the night.

Lu Yiyao had taken the day off, so the entire day was filled with scenes between Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan. Arriving on set, Ran Lin realized that the screenwriter, Song Mang, was there. This was his first time seeing the talented writer on set after a month of filming.

It had been over a month since their last meeting. Song Mang’s attire had shifted from summer to autumn wear. What remained unchanged was his love for bright colors. Last time it was colorful beach shorts, this time an orange baseball jacket. He sat in a corner of the set, easily noticeable.

After Ran Lin finished makeup and styling, while the lighting and sound were still being adjusted, he took the opportunity to greet the screenwriter: “Writer Song.”

This was also Song Mang’s first time seeing Ran Lin in full costume. He looked him up and down and seemed quite satisfied: “Not bad. You really do have a bit of Fang Xian’s charismatic aura.”

“Having filmed for a month, if I still couldn’t get the feel of it, I’d be letting you and Director Chen down,” Ran Lin responded politely, secretly pleased inside. After all, everyone loves to hear praises, but Director Chen was stingy with compliments. So, for Ran Lin, who was eager for affirmation, Song Mang seemed to shine brilliantly in front of him.

Song Mang wanted to say more, but as he opened his mouth, his eyes suddenly flickered and then fixed behind Ran Lin, followed by an almost inaudible sigh.

Ran Lin turned to follow his gaze, realizing that Xi Ruohan, now in costume, had appeared.

Ran Lin suddenly understood that the screenwriter was still resentful about being forced to intensify the romantic subplot. He also figured out why Song Mang was present today—although the romantic storyline was already set and he had modified the script himself, reluctant creative work always leaves one uneasy. Naturally, he wanted to see the final effect.

“How do you think these scenes are?” Song Mang suddenly asked.

Ran Lin knew the screenwriter was actually longing to hear a positive response; otherwise, he would only be more troubled. Ran Lin replied objectively, “Speaking of the romance, it’s actually quite touching. Moreover, it intensifies the conflict and emotional depth later between Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu.”

Song Mang raised an eyebrow. “So you also think the romantic storyline should be emphasized?”

After pondering, Ran Lin said, “There is no first in literature and no second in martial arts*. I quite agree with this saying. I don’t think there’s an absolute which line is better than another. <Sword of Fallen Flowers> itself is emotionally heavy, so whether it’s highlighting the romance or focusing on brotherhood, as long as we can bring out everything the script wants to express, we can definitely move the audience.”

*(文无第一，武无第二) Proverb that refers to in some area of life, like arts and literature, comparison and rankings aren’t as straightforward or meaningful as they are in sports or martial arts, where competition can clearly declare a winner.

Song Mang looked at him intently for a while, then suddenly remarked with a sigh. “This is the most comforting answer I’ve heard in a month.”

Ran Lin was surprised, thinking how many people the screenwriter must have complained to and sought comments from.

But a dedicated screenwriter is always particularly attached to their work. This, Ran Lin understood.

After a brief chat, Song Mang casually asked, “Today it’s all about you two. How’s the emotional development?”

Ran Lin was at a loss for words. This question hit right at the heart of the matter.

Fortunately, the director’s assistant came over to announce the start of filming, and Ran Lin quickly excused himself from the screenwriter and headed straight for the camera.

However, once filming actually started, Ran Lin realized he could avoid Song Mang’s question, but Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao’s performance under the camera couldn’t deceive anyone.

This was a scene where he confessed to Zhao Buyao and was rejected. However, it wasn’t the usual heart-wrenching confession followed by a tearful rejection. It was an extremely gentle scene—The spring breeze for ten miles isn’t as good as you*.

*It’s an expression that has a romantic undertone, often used to express deep affection and admiration for someone. In this case, Fang Xian expressing his love for Zhao Buyao, referring to her as more precious and delightful than a cherished aspect of nature (spring breeze).

By a lakeside, with a green tree on the shore, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan were carefully helped onto a thick tree branch, sitting side by side. Under the tree, outside of the camera’s view, thick crash pads were laid out.

As the clapperboard snapped shut, “Fang Xian” gently turned his head, secretly gazing at “Zhao Buyao”, who was looking into the distance.

A wind machine gently rustled the leaves, also lifting Zhao Buyao’s hair.

Ran Lin looked at Xi Ruohan’s profile, trying to make his gaze as soft as possible, and even softer…

“Cut!”

From a distance, the director, watching behind the monitor, used a walkie-talkie to explain to the second male lead why he called cut. “You need to look at Zhao Buyao tenderly, that’s fine, but in that tenderness, there needs to be affection, love. The camera will focus on your eyes. If you were sitting here, you’d see that your gaze is fixed, emotionless, not shimmering or surging…”

In fact, the moment the director called cut, Ran Lin knew where the problem lay, but he still listened attentively to the director’s words, memorizing every one.

He had expected Xi Ruohan to kick him while he was down, or at least give him a mocking look, but she kept her gaze fixed on the lake the whole time, appearing serious, as if too preoccupied with channeling Zhao Buyao’s feelings for Fang Xian to listen to the director’s guidance to the second male lead.

The clapperboard snapped again, starting the second take.

Ran Lin lowered his eyes, thinking about how he, if he were to sit next to Lu Yiyao, wanting but not daring to confess, would look at him secretly…

Gently lifting his eyelids, he stole another glance. In Fang Xian’s originally gentle gaze, complex emotions slowly surfaced.

There was liking, heart-fluttering, cherishing, and timidity…

“I wonder how Tang Jingyu is doing now.” The oblivious Zhao Buyao gazed into the distance, sighing softly. “I should have gone with him to the Bodhi Temple.”

“Abbot Hai Kong of the Bodhi Temple is highly skilled in martial arts. Jingyu won’t be in danger there,” Fang Xian replied casually.

Zhao Buyao turned back, looking anxious. “I’m worried that Tang Jingyu might be in danger on the way and not even make it to the Bodhi Temple. He was going to send a message; those in black won’t let him easily reach the temple.”

Zhao Buyao’s face showed only concern for Tang Jingyu.

But Fang Xian’s eyes were filled with complex emotions.

“Buyao.” Fang Xian suddenly called out softly.

Zhao Buyao was startled and looked at him, puzzled.

Fang Xian suddenly smiled gently, softly saying, “You like Jingyu, don’t you?”

Zhao Buyao looked into Fang Xian’s eyes, clearly feeling the sorrow there, and suddenly forgot her lines.

“Cut!”

The director, frustrated, called cut.

Xi Ruohan came back to her senses, still somewhat bewildered, but was the first to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

This was for the director and for the entire crew, whose time had been wasted.

Although Xi Ruohan’s reputation in personal relationships was complicated, her professionalism in her work was consistent. This was why numerous producers and directors were willing to work with her—she was good at her job, professional, didn’t delay the shooting schedule, and didn’t make unreasonable demands that could disrupt filming. Her personality might have been a bit difficult, but everyone was there to work, not to make friends. Delivering work on time and with quality was enough to relieve the producers and directors.

However, today, Xi Ruohan’s NGs were unusually frequent.

Just as Ran Lin’s emotions were getting into the groove, her feelings couldn’t be found.

The director, having no other choice, called for a half-hour break, letting the staff help the two actors down to rehearse their lines together and foster the right emotions. Fang Xian’s confession was an important turning point in the emotional storyline of the play. From this point on, Zhao Buyao would realize her feelings for Tang Jingyu, setting the tone for the development of the emotional storyline later on.

Such a crucial scene wasn’t something the director wanted to rush.

The wind blew by the lakeside, rustling the green grass.

Xi Ruohan’s light-colored gauze skirt was gently lifted by the breeze.

Xi Ruohan looked at the script with a heavy expression, as if what lay on the paper wasn’t a confession scene but a scene of sacrifice.

Ran Lin sighed and spoke up. “Stop looking at the script. Look at me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned and finally lifted her head from the script, her tone a bit irritable. “What’s so good about looking at you?”

Ran Lin knew this wasn’t directed at him personally, but rather Xi Ruohan was struggling with herself.

As a fellow actor, he understood the frustration of not being able to get into character.

“It’s not about looking at me. It’s about seeing Fang Xian. If you can’t see me as entirely Fang Xian, this scene won’t work.”

His direct words made Xi Ruohan struggle to save face. “I don’t need you to teach me how to act.”

Ran Lin calmly replied, “I’m not teaching you how to act. I’m asking you.”

Xi Ruohan was puzzled. “Asking me what?”

Ran Lin tilted his head to look at her. “Asking you to fall in love with me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned. “I love Tang Jingyu.”

Ran Lin: “But you also have to like Fang Xian—the pure friendship kind of liking. It’s because you like this friend that when you reject him, it’s hard for you.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin quietly for two seconds, then let out a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to get into character with you.”

Ran Lin nodded solemnly. “I understand. I feel the same.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin incredulously, wondering if she had heard him wrong. She knew many colleagues talked about her behind her back, but Ran Lin was definitely the first to confront her face-to-face.

Then he continued to add fuel to the fire. “If I were Fang Xian, I wouldn’t fall in love with you. Xu Chongfei has good taste. Li’er is so quirky, gentle, and young…”

“Hey, that’s enough…” Xi Ruohan’s face darkened, unable to maintain her composure.

Ran Lin suddenly laughed, looking towards the lake with a distant gaze. At that moment, he wasn’t Ran Lin, but Fang Xian. “But you are brave, passionate, and pure. The first time I saw you at the righteous mansion, you were dressed in aqua, cold as the moon, yet fiery in temperament. I thought then, this girl has grown up too pretty, prickly and poisonous, untouchable.”

Xi Ruohan stared blankly at his profile, unable to distinguish who he was at that moment, and her own identity became muddled. “Then you still later…”

“Love is like that. The more you want to avoid it, the more you can’t escape. The more you want to stay away from someone, the more entangled you become.” Ran Lin turned back, looking at Xi Ruohan as if he were looking at someone else. “So I won’t run anymore. I accept it. I admit that I have fallen for you. No matter what response you give me, just being able to like you has made me very happy.”

The wind rose along the riverbank.

Not from a wind machine, but a real, gentle autumn breeze.

“I’m sorry.” Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin, her voice light and bitter. “I like Tang Jingyu…”

“It doesn’t matter who it is.” Ran Lin smiled softly, lightly touching her hair. “I just wish you happiness.”

Xi Ruohan’s eyes reddened.

At that moment, she couldn’t differentiate between the play and reality.

……

The half-hour of fostering feelings was surprisingly effective. Even the director hadn’t expected that after he called “action” again, the two actors would smoothly enter their character’s emotions.

Chen Qizheng remained stern but was inwardly satisfied.

This is what good actors are. They may not necessarily be exceptionally spirited, but having the right attitude, willing to work hard, and what’s more rare, being quick to understand and brighten up, making fast and accurate adjustments to problems.

Song Mang was even more pleasantly surprised.

He had come to observe these few emotional scenes with a resigned mindset, but, unexpectedly, he was moved, almost feeling the urge to go back to his hotel and write Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao into a relationship.

Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan’s delicacy in emotional expression and control over emotional tension far exceeded his expectations, making him look forward even more to the emotional scenes between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao, as well as the scene where Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian become adversaries.

Alright, if he had to choose one, he was more looking forward to the adversarial scenes.

Ran Lin hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly later on. He was the first to get into character, but once in character, Xi Ruohan really did further drive the emotions of her counterpart, to the point that he almost couldn’t step out of being Fang Xian for the entire afternoon.

The leading actress was also unable to step out of character.

That night, back at the hotel, Xi Ruohan went online to watch an episode of <Yun Zhang>, choosing the scene where Lu Yiyao, playing the male lead, confessed to her, the female lead.

It was that day she fell in love with Lu Yiyao.

Even now, she still remembered the feelings from that scene.

But the problem was, she experienced the same feelings today.

If it weren’t for having to stick to the script, she might have impulsively agreed to Fang Xian.

Yes, she was sure that it was Fang Xian in the play she had fallen for, not Ran Lin, because she deliberately waited until Ran Lin had removed his makeup and found that the palpitations she felt towards Fang Xian had disappeared.

This realization brought her comfort, but also unrest.

Because she found that “Lu Yiyao” and “Yun Zhang”, the two images that had overlapped in her mind, were slowly separating.

Not only separating, but also an additional “Tang Jingyu” appeared out of nowhere.

Yet her feelings weren’t divided into three parts; they were still tied to “Yun Zhang”, gradually distancing from the two men, “Lu Yiyao” and “Tang Jingyu”.

……

[How was the scene with your scene partner today?]

[Everything went smoothly.]

Lu Yiyao, who had just finished a schedule and was on his way back on the high-speed train, looked at the WeChat message from his friend with a mix of belief and disbelief. When he and Ran Lin filmed their first scene together, they were already friends who frequently contacted each other through WeChat, and even then, it took them a while to find their rhythm. During the past month of filming, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan had practically no interaction, and even if they appeared in the same scenes, it was mostly in group scenes. It seemed very likely they would struggle to find their state.

[I am masterful and dashing in the role. Just doing a confession scene, how hard can it be? 😎]

Lu Yiyao chuckled—[You’re overacting.]

Reading the message, Ran Lin could almost hear Lu Yiyao’s tone, and it made him feel a bit ticklish inside—[What time will you arrive?]

[It’ll probably be past midnight.]

[Can you get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow?]

[Don’t worry, I once managed with only two hours of sleep over three days.]

[And then you fainted and missed the Thailand curry trip.]

[A true hero doesn’t dwell on the past.]

Ran Lin, who was just drinking water, almost spat it out. He couldn’t even bother typing and directly sent a voice message. “What kind of hero is that!”

Lu Yiyao played it immediately, listening and laughing.

Yao Hong, sitting next to him, recognized the voice immediately. “Ran Lin?”

Lu Yiyao hummed in affirmation.

Yao Hong nodded but didn’t say much more.

Over the years she had managed Lu Yiyao, she rarely saw him truly make friends in the industry. Sometimes, when she saw other male artists showing off their friendships, boosting each other’s popularity, and attracting fans together, she wished Lu Yiyao could find one or two friends like that. But Lu Yiyao wasn’t the kind to warm up easily. Sometimes, when other male artists tried to get close to him and found his response lukewarm, they would also lose interest.

Her artist had seen too much of the industry, and when you see too much, things lose their excitement.

The night view outside the train window was a blur, making it hard to tell where they were. Yao Hong, bored, plugged in her headphones, intending to listen to some music. But she noticed a WeChat group message notification that had been there for half an hour. The message was from a colleague group that she often muted because it was too active. Sometimes she would check it out when she was free, but now someone in the group had mentioned her.

Yao Hong curiously clicked in and found the mention. It wasn’t just her being mentioned, but a whole string of people—basically two-thirds of the group members. Usually, this method meant someone was about to share gossip, calling out everyone to join the fun.

Colleagues in the industry were always eager for a juicy story.

There were three Weibo screenshots. The first was from a well-known marketing account with a sensational title: Shocking! Old high school photos of Zhang Beichen unearthed. His first love is also a handsome guy?!

The other two screenshots were zoomed-in photos. One showed two boys, arms over each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera. In the other, they were still arm-in-arm, but one was pretending to kiss the other’s face, captured just before the kiss. The one being kissed was making a funny face at the camera, as if expecting the kiss but also seemingly unaware of it.

Zhang Beichen was the one making the funny face.

The photo quality wasn’t high, and it looked like a selfie taken with a phone. Both boys were still young, wearing high school uniforms.

In half an hour, hundreds of messages had flooded the group chat.

Most were speculating whether Zhang Beichen was gay, and a few were snickering that Wu Xuefeng would now have a headache.

Wu Xuefeng generally had a mixed reputation among his peers, often described as a smiling tiger with deep schemes.

In this industry, no agent was innocent; everyone had their ways and strategies, all hoping to push their artists to the pinnacle of success. But Wu Xuefeng was known for being more unscrupulous than others, hence his poor reputation.

Was Zhang Beichen really gay?

Yao Hong thought that these two photos alone weren’t enough proof.

Zhang Beichen’s team could easily dismiss it as youthful frivolity—just two good friends taking silly photos. Who hasn’t been young and reckless?

The real concern was if these photos were released by someone with an agenda, possibly with more to come.

Or, if the other person in the photos came forward to clarify.

Yao Hong opened Weibo and searched for Zhang Beichen. Sure enough, the photos were spreading like wildfire, with the narrative becoming more and more detailed, almost piecing together a tragic high school love story.

The comments were divided into three groups: pure fans who refused to believe and accused the marketing accounts of slandering their idol; onlookers who were just there for the drama, waiting for further developments; and a group, possibly fans or onlookers, who were keen detectives, analyzing even the micro-expressions in the photos, determined to uncover the truth behind them.

So far, Zhang Beichen hadn’t responded.

Someone was stirring the pot—Yao Hong glanced at the public opinion and the most forwarded posts, and she had her suspicions.

Maybe Zhang Beichen had offended someone, or perhaps he was blocking someone’s path, so someone wanted to target him.

This was all too common in the industry.

Some never recover from such a scandal, while others turn it around.

But these were not Yao Hong’s concerns.

She looked at Lu Yiyao, who seemed totally engrossed in his phone, probably chatting up a storm. Yao Hong sighed and gently pushed his phone screen down.

Lu Yiyao looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

Yao Hong asked directly, “What’s your relationship with Zhang Beichen?”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled and put down his phone for a moment. “Just so-so. Why suddenly ask this?”

Yao Hong didn’t answer directly but thought for a moment. “Isn’t he also filming in Hengdian now?”

“Yes,” Lu Yiyao replied. “We even had late-night snacks together when he first joined the crew.”

“Just the two of you?” Yao Hong frowned.

“No, it was with Ran Lin; the three of us ate together,” Lu Yiyao explained honestly. “After all, we were on a reality show together.”

Yao Hong asked, “Is Ran Lin on good terms with him?”

Lu Yiyao thought about the situation during the late-night snack they had together and said, “It’s alright, I guess. Better than with me, but I didn’t feel they were particularly close. Ran Lin gets along with everyone, so it looks like he’s good with everyone, but that’s not necessarily the case.”

Yao Hong was exasperated. “I was just asking casually. You don’t have to keep explaining for Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao spread his hands innocently. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just avoid meeting him for now,” Yao Hong advised cautiously.

Lu Yiyao felt a pang of concern. “Ran Lin? But we still have scenes together.”

Yao Hong held her forehead, almost grinding her teeth. “Zhang Beichen.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, squinting at Yao Hong. After a while, he asked softly, “Did he get into trouble?”

Originally, Yao Hong wouldn’t have shared the gossip with Lu Yiyao since it didn’t concern him, as each agency should only worry about its own artists. But after this series of questions, she couldn’t be at ease anymore and decided to show Lu Yiyao the Weibo post.

Lu Yiyao scrolled through several posts and read the comments carefully.

In the end, he looked up and said straightforwardly to Yao Hong, “Someone’s smearing him.”

“How can you be so sure?” Yao Hong, although she had the same judgment, was unsettled by Lu Yiyao’s definitive defense of Zhang Beichen. “Maybe he really is gay.”

Lu Yiyao realized Yao Hong had misunderstood him and smiled wryly. “I didn’t say he isn’t. Whether he is or not, this matter is someone targeting him. I don’t believe you can’t see that.”

Yao Hong rolled her eyes. “If I couldn’t see what you can, how would I manage you?”

Lu Yiyao looked at Weibo again and sighed. “Zhang Beichen must be in a mess right now.”

“If there’s no follow-up, it’s easier to handle.” Yao Hong pulled her phone back from Lu Yiyao. “Let’s see how Wu Xuefeng deals with it.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t speak, lost in thought as he looked out the window.

After pondering for a while, Yao Hong still asked softly, “Is Zhang Beichen really…?”

The question from his agent made Lu Yiyao recall the late-night snack they had. He felt Zhang Beichen’s sexual orientation was questionable, but there was still no concrete evidence, and intuition was always a mysterious thing.

“Hard to say.” Lu Yiyao finally gave a responsible answer.

……

Ran Lin only learned about Zhang Beichen’s trouble the next day at noon while scrolling through his phone during lunch. His first reaction was to call his agent, Wang Xi, to see if she knew the inside story, but to his surprise, she was unaware of Zhang Beichen’s situation. Ran Lin explained the situation to her, and Wang Xi’s reaction was indifferent, as it wasn’t her artist’s affair. She only advised Ran Lin to steer clear of Zhang Beichen for the time being, given the sensitive nature of the scandal.

Ran Lin, of course, understood the implications, but he couldn’t help but be curious about the situation.

The Weibo hot searches had already cycled through several rounds, but it was still the same two photos being circulated, and the direction and intensity of public opinion seemed abnormal.

Lu Yiyao, who had been observing the whole time, knew Ran Lin was concerned about his friend, but at such times, only Zhang Beichen’s team could help him. Ran Lin, despite his concern, was unable to assist.

By evening, worried that Ran Lin was still preoccupied with the matter, Lu Yiyao invited him and Tang Xiaoyu for dinner at a nearby restaurant.

Tang Xiaoyu had realized by then that Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin were genuinely good friends, and he was just tagging along. But since Lu Yiyao had invited him, he was happy to accompany them for a meal.

The three male celebrities, although conspicuous, went out late at night when it was less noticeable.

Lu Yiyao chose a small restaurant near the hotel, within walking distance. It was a rare opportunity for the three of them to get together in the evening.

“Toasting with tea instead of wine, I first toast to my big brothers.” Tang Xiaoyu stood up to start the meal in the private room. “Soon we’ll be adversaries in the drama, so I’m here to ask for mercy in advance.”

Ran Lin laughed, raising his cup to clink with Tang Xiaoyu. “I’ll be using a sword.”

Lu Yiyao joined in. “Me too.”

Tang Xiaoyu was baffled. “It makes sense for Fang Xian to use a sword, but your weapon is a flying knife!”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head. “But later I used a flying sword.”

Tang Xiaoyu paused.

Ran Lin, trying not to laugh, reminded, “The Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is not just any sword manual; it’s also a manual for hidden weapons. In the end, Tang Jingyu learns it.”

Tang Xiaoyu remembered, “In the final part of the script, you effortlessly decipher the secrets of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. In the final battle with the Liuhua Palace, you release a short sword from the shadows, eliminating the biggest villain.”

“Under the halo of the protagonist, I can only admire,” Tang Xiaoyu conceded and downed his drink.

The dinner started cheerfully.

Lu Yiyao thought it was wise to invite Tang Xiaoyu, but about a third of the way through their casual conversation, Tang Xiaoyu suddenly brought up, “Have you guys heard about Zhang Beichen’s situation?”

Lu Yiyao wished he could stuff a bun in his mouth.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 42

The intersection of actors and roles are two different matters.

In the play, Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao hadn’t been acquainted until they fought, forming a pair of joyous enemies. Although they didn’t end up as lovers, Zhao Buyao remained the cinnabar mole* in Fang Xian’s heart, and Fang Xian continued to be the only friend Zhao Buyao could speak to without any reservations.

*It’s a metaphorical way of saying how she remains a beautiful love in his heart forever, similar to how a cinnabar mole (a birthmark that is often associated with beauty) stays with you forever.

However, offstage, Ran Lin had just left the 18^th-tier and was striving to climb to the 3^rd or 4^th-tier as a minor actor, while Xi Ruohan was a mid-level actress who only played leading female roles. It was difficult for the two to have any relationship.

Moreover, Xi Ruohan hadn’t shown her face since checking into the hotel, and the next day, she was taken to the set by a private car with an independent dressing and makeup room. So, it wasn’t until 10:30 in the morning, when the first scene with Zhao Buyao started shooting, that Ran Lin, who had been in makeup for two and a half hours, finally saw Xi Ruohan on set.

In the play, Zhao Buyao had been adopted by the master of Liuhua Palace since childhood. She was beautiful as an angel, stunning, but with the personality of a boy, loving to read and practice martial arts. Bored in the monotonous days in Liuhua Palace, she volunteered to go to Liuma Town to investigate the reappearance of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. The master of Liuhua Palace had no choice but to agree.

Today’s shooting was about Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei, who had become sworn brothers, coming to the righteous inn in Liuma Town to find clues, but unexpectedly encountering Zhao Buyao, who was also there. It was also the first meeting of these four characters in the play.

Except for Xu Chongfei, who was just a spectator.

The rest of them, upon first sight, made a lifelong mistake.

When Xi Ruohan appeared, Ran Lin, Lu Yiyao, and Tang Xiaoyu were resting on chairs, with other supporting actors and extras moving around in twos and threes, while the crew members were busy setting up the scene and adjusting the lights.

The scene was chaotic, with people moving back and forth—modern and ancient costumes mixing together—creating a subtly disorienting feeling of being in a time warp.

Xi Ruohan, no, Zhao Buyao, made her way through the crowd, gracefully approaching.

Like described in the Book of Songs, her hands were soft, her skin like cream, her neck like a beautiful worm, her teeth like a melon’s seeds, her forehead like a moth’s brow, her mischievous smile enchanting, and her eyes full of longing.

That was Zhao Buyao in a water-colored dress.

Ran Lin stood up in awe, along with Lu Yiyao, while Tang Xiaoyu seemed to be so captivated that he remained motionless in his lounge chair.

Xi Ruohan didn’t pick on this third male lead.

To be exact, she didn’t even glance at Tang Xiaoyu and Ran Lin but walked straight to Lu Yiyao, smiling sweetly in the breeze that fluttered her hair.

“Yaoyao.”

Xi Ruohan’s voice was as clear as jade colliding—not loud, but clear to the ear, revealing her solid foundation in lines.

Lu Yiyao was accustomed to this, showing neither awe nor admiration, only a resigned “It’s still the same old you”. “Long time no see.”

Xi Ruohan glared at him, her eyes coquettishly angry. “Didn’t we just meet last night?”

Lu Yiyao was exasperated, not sure what to think, and subconsciously looked towards Ran Lin.

The latter, originally waiting to finish their conversation to greet the female lead, was startled by these words. Seeing Lu Yiyao looking back at him, he instinctively avoided eye contact and went straight to pull Tang Xiaoyu. “Classmate Xiaoyu*, snap out of it.”

*Clarity: He’s calling him by his nickname (Little Fish), not his first name. Given that in pinyin they literally are the same letters, it would be hard to distinguish this in translation, but generally, Ran Lin and others wouldn’t call him by just his first name (since they’re not super close). Just note, if you see just Xiaoyu by itself, it’s referring to his nickname.

Tang Xiaoyu was indeed distracted. He had seen many actresses in ancient costumes, but many, despite their beauty, still looked like modern people in ancient garb, with a beautiful appearance but lacking classical charm. Xi Ruohan was different; her ancient costume and every smile genuinely transported people back to an ancient, ink-painted world.

Alerted by Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu came back to his senses and immediately stood up, displaying the demeanor expected of a well-mannered third male lead.

However, his heart was still fluctuating because, before this, he had only seen Xi Ruohan in modern attire at certain events. While those modern styles were charming in their own way, perhaps due to Tang Xiaoyu’s personal preference, he felt they couldn’t compare to the Zhao Buyao before him.

Seeing Ran Lin not paying much attention and fearing making things worse, Lu Yiyao simply skipped the topic of that imaginative night-time meeting and went back to the original form of address. “Just call me Lu Yiyao.”

It wasn’t like this in the last crew. Lu Yiyao didn’t know how Xi Ruohan had developed this new way of addressing him during their time apart.

“That sounds too formal,” Xi Ruohan said innocently, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “I think Yaoyao is nice. Yaoyao, Yaoyao, Yaoyao…”

“That’s what my mom calls me at home.”

“Cough… cough cough…”

Xi Ruohan was caught off guard and choked on her own words.

The makeup artist nearby looked desperate and, as soon as the female lead stopped coughing, immediately came over to touch up her makeup.

Lu Yiyao tried to hold back his laughter, feeling clear and refreshed inside.

Tang Xiaoyu shook his head secretly, thinking the male lead was really bad.

Ran Lin couldn’t see through the two of them. It didn’t seem like they had a private affair, as Xi Ruohan wasn’t only enthusiastic but also spoke with hidden meanings; yet, Lu Yiyao was too calm, not seeming like it at all.

“Teachers.” The director’s assistant came running over, obviously trying to make the most of every minute. “We can start over there now.”

The four of them became serious, no longer joking, and quickly walked towards the center of the camera.

The scene they were about to shoot was set in a “righteous mansion*” and was a night scene.

*A temporary coffin depository where the coffins containing the cadavers of recently deceased people are temporarily stored while awaiting transport to the place of burial. Its literal meaning is “mansion of the righteous” and originally referred to any charitable organization. These charities were typically established by prominent families to promote their standing in the community. In later 19^th century, it became a euphemism for “coffin home” or “morgue”.

The three swordsmen, having just sworn brotherhood, followed clues to the righteous mansion on the northern outskirts of Liuma Town, intending to find the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual, but were met with an unexpected turn of events.

In the vast “righteous mansion”, silent and eerie, moonlight shone through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the coffins like frost, giving off a chill.

Tang Jingyu, Fang Xian, and Xu Chongfei stood still amidst it, not daring to make a move, and looked around cautiously.

“Are you sure the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is here?” Fang Xian’s voice trembled, showing his awe of the supernatural. “Do we really have to go through every coffin?”

“Let’s search the walls, corners, and beams first. If not, I’m afraid we’ll have to check the coffins,” Tang Jingyu said, his eyes deep and alert, feeling that things weren’t simple.

Fang Xian swallowed and gently patted Xu Chongfei’s shoulder. “Third Brother*, such meticulous work like checking coffins is perfect for you.”

*[San Di] (三弟) Younger brother in this case. In groups of male friends, especially since these three have sworn brotherhood, they are sometimes addressed according to their rank (which can either be by age or social ranking within the group).

Xu Chongfei glanced at the young master of the Fang Clan, sincerely saying, “You really are my good Second Brother.”

Being only half a month younger, Xu Chongfei had become the ‘third brother’ and had to respect Fang Xian, this unserious ‘second brother’, according to the Confucian five relationships*, with no place to argue.

*Set of key relationships articulated by Confucius, known as the five cardinal relationships (ruler and subject, father and son, elder and younger brother, husband and wife, between friends).

“There’s someone!” Fang Xian, not good at handling coffins but sharp-eared, shouted.

Following his yell, a water-colored figure swiftly emerged from behind a coffin!

“Cut! Over—”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief.

He looked at Xi Ruohan, standing a few meters away, getting her costume adjusted by the stylist, feeling a bit nervous.

The scene they had just rehearsed was only a warm-up. The next one, where he would really interact with Xi Ruohan, was the real deal.

Today’s shoot was all set in this “righteous mansion”. Setting up such a scene required significant resources, so once set up, all the indoor scenes had to be completed.

They were shooting the dialogue scenes in the morning, and in the afternoon, the action scene team would come to finish all the action sequences in this setting.

Like the scene where Zhao Buyao jumps out, naturally, Fang Xian would have to confront her, and that part was scheduled for the afternoon.

Next, they were to shoot the scene where Fang Xian, having subdued Zhao Buyao, and his brothers interrogate her about her identity. Naturally, the amorous Young Master Fang, of course, had to take the lead.

Ran Lin actually wanted to interact with Xi Ruohan before the scene, even just some small talk, but she hadn’t even glanced at him from start to finish, either looking at the script handed over by her assistant or at Lu Yiyao, which fit her reputation for being a “difficult young lady”.

“What are you thinking about?” Lu Yiyao, who had finished touching up his makeup, came over unnoticed and asked Ran Lin, who was standing in a quiet corner, lost in thought.

“Nothing.” Ran Lin quickly averted his gaze, as quickly as if he had been caught red-handed.

Following Ran Lin’s previous line of sight, Lu Yiyao’s eyes locked onto Xi Ruohan, his brow furrowing slightly, unsure of his feelings, and commented, “She’s very beautiful, isn’t she?”

Ran Lin turned abruptly, disbelievingly looking at Lu Yiyao, his first thought being that this man was about to declare a romance!

Seeing Ran Lin’s expression, Lu Yiyao quickly clarified in a low but fast voice. “There’s nothing between us.”

Ran Lin was genuinely confused; his usually quick mind always seemed to freeze when facing Lu Yiyao, unable to analyze the situation and just following along with this man’s various behaviors and statements.

But Teacher Lu’s behavior was very unstable, often unpredictable—maybe flirting one moment and then straight-laced the next. One moment he seemed ambiguous with the actress, and the next, he was a straightforward, upright young man. Ran Lin thought he was probably the only one who could keep up with Teacher Lu’s pace, as anyone else might have given up midway.

Wait a minute.

Ran Lin pursed his lips, realizing he had already decided to give up… When had he gotten back on track?

“Last night she brought me some local specialties. After all, it’s our second collaboration, so we had to break the ice beforehand.”

“Oh…”

“Oh?”

“Actually, you don’t need to explain to me.”

“But your expression clearly showed you misunderstood.”

“It’s okay to misunderstand. You’re both single, and she really is beautiful.”

“It doesn’t matter if others misunderstand, but you’re my friend, and I need to clarify things with you.”

“……”

That’s it! This “you’re my friend, you’re important to me” attitude was trapping him in a world of unrequited love… Lu Yiyao, you fiend!!!

“You still don’t believe me?” Lu Yiyao looked at Ran Lin somewhat helplessly, feeling he couldn’t find more convincing words.

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. If nothing else, Lu Yiyao was absolutely a role model in sincerity towards friends. “No, I believe you.”

Lu Yiyao skeptically raised an eyebrow. “Then why does your expression look like you’re still cursing me?”

Ran Lin was embarrassed, quickly hiding his “it’s all your fault for my unrequited love” emotions and putting on a bright smile.

Lu Yiyao unconsciously stepped back, saying seriously, “You might as well scold me. A hidden knife in a smile is scarier.”

Amidst the joking, the set was ready, and the next scene was about to start shooting!

Zhao Buyao, defeated in the duel, was surrounded by the three men. As the director called action, Xi Ruohan suddenly raised her head, her eyes shooting angry glares straight at Ran Lin!

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

Xi Ruohan’s anger was so genuine that Ran Lin felt as if he could be pierced by her gaze.

Distracted, he lost focus.

“Cut!” the director said discontentedly, poking his head out. “Fang Xian, say your lines!”

Ran Lin quickly apologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

There was no excuse for forgetting lines.

The director frowned and refocused on the monitor.

Turning back, Ran Lin met Xi Ruohan’s disdainful gaze.

This was different from the earlier anger; it was a disdain from a height—the real Xi Ruohan.

Unrelated to anything else, just the female lead’s gaze at the male second lead, especially when they were strangers off-screen, and the male second had just NG’d.

“<Swords of Fallen Flowers> Scene 98, Take 2…”

Click!

The moment the clapperboard closed, Xi Ruohan’s disdain suddenly flared into anger, as if Zhao Buyao’s soul had possessed her.

“A big man bullying a small woman like me—what kind of skill is that!”

“A small woman sneaking into a righteous mansion at night doesn’t sound easy to bully,” Fang Xian replied with a flirtatious undertone, casually making his entrance.

“Everyone’s here for the same thing. Playing dumb isn’t fun,” Fang Xian said, circling Zhao Buyao with a smug smile, his eyes filled with a romantic flair. “I guess… you’re Zhao Buyao.”

The woman looked up in surprise. “You know me?”

Xu Chongfei struggled to hold back laughter. Even Tang Jingyu’s icy demeanor softened, his gaze warming towards Zhao Buyao.

Fang Xian subtly warned his brothers with a glance, as if to say, “Don’t ruin my chances,” then turned to the girl, who was easily tricked into revealing the truth, changing from his previous flirtatious demeanor to a sincere and honest face, even his voice sounding like a decent young man. “I don’t know you, but I’ve heard that Zhao Buyao of Liuhua Palace can captivate a city with a smile and captivate a nation with another. I don’t believe there’s a second girl as beautiful as you, so you must be Zhao Buyao.”

The woman slowly recovered from her initial surprise, listening quietly to Fang Xian finish, then gently said, “My mother said, the more pleasant a man’s words, the more dangerous he is.”

Fang Xian stood frozen, more embarrassed than ever.

Xu Chongfei burst into laughter, no longer sparing his second brother any face.

Tang Jingyu also chuckled silently, his shoulders silently trembling.

Fang Xian took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, finally regaining the demeanor of the young master of the Fang Clan. He declared loudly, “Good, now we have one more person to help open the coffins.”

“Cut—”

After calling cut, Director Chen emerged from behind the monitor. The four actors didn’t dare to move, knowing that the director’s coming out meant he had something to say about the scene.

Indeed, Chen Qizheng, approaching them, got straight to the point. “Next, you’ll open the coffins in two groups. Fang Xian will follow Zhao Buyao to this side…”

As he spoke, the director walked over to the designated coffin.

The four actors immediately followed.

“Tang Jingyu and Xu Chongfei will open that side. In the end, after all the coffins are opened, in this coffin, Tang Jingyu will find the token and the identity of the deceased. When you pick up the token, the camera will zoom in for a close-up, so try not to shake your hand, keep it steady…”

Since the next scene’s movements were quite complex, the director walked them through it again after explaining.

Feeling it was about right, he returned behind the monitor.

The extras had already lain down in the coffins, and the crew was busy placing the lids on.

The lighting technicians were also busy, adjusting the lights shining on the corpses’ faces.

Lu Yiyao and Tang Xiaoyu went back to rest in their chairs outside after the director finished explaining. Ran Lin, wanting to familiarize himself with the movements, stood still, watching the extras lie down in the coffins and mentally rehearsing the movements.

As he was thinking, a voice suddenly appeared behind him. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin, who was pondering the Young Master Fang’s reaction to being scared by a corpse, jumped in fright at the sudden question, almost turning around in horror.

Xi Ruohan frowned unhappily and said coldly, “What’s with that expression? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ran Lin glanced around subconsciously. The busy crew members didn’t pay attention to the interaction between the lead actress and the second male lead.

“I was just thinking about the scene and got a little scared,” Ran Lin explained politely.

Xi Ruohan seemed amused by his answer and sneered, “In my opinion, you really don’t need to put in so much effort. Just get through the scene without NG, and the director will be grateful.”

Ran Lin gave an awkward smile and didn’t respond.

This lady seemed intent on picking a fight. He couldn’t provoke her but could stay silent.

“Hey, I’m talking to you. What does your silence mean?”

Ran Lin sighed. Being a big star, she probably had a bit of a temper, was spoiled by the industry, and was adored by fans. It was rare to find someone as good-natured as Lu Yiyao, a real gem.

“I was thinking…” Unable to avoid, he braced himself. “What was the question that Teacher Xi just asked?”

Ran Lin smiled warmly, but Xi Ruohan frowned frequently, not answering his question initially, instead musing. “You really don’t resemble Fang Xian at all.”

This was her personal reflection, not needing Ran Lin’s input, so she immediately returned to her main concern, reiterating her most pressing question. “Are you and Lu Yiyao close?”

Ran Lin thought for a moment and cautiously replied, “It’s alright, I guess. After all, we’ve done a reality show together.”

“It’s more than just alright.” Xi Ruohan obviously doubted his answer. “I saw you two hiding in the corner and talking for a long time.”

Ran Lin was taken aback, not expecting the lead actress to have such insight.

“It was just about the scene, nothing else.” Ran Lin stuck to the work explanation, certainly not about to admit they were discussing her meeting with Lu Yiyao the previous night.

Xi Ruohan scrutinized him warily and, after a long moment, warned, “Lu Yiyao is kind of naive, with a low guard. I’m different. I can see through whatever you’re planning, so you better behave.”

Ran Lin faced her gaze with forced calmness but was internally breathless, his mind going blank.

Xi Ruohan, looking as if she already knew, whispered threateningly, “Listen, if you dare use him for publicity again, to ride on his popularity, I have a hundred ways to make sure you can’t stay in this crew.”

Ran Lin blinked slowly, regaining his breath. “Just… that?”

Xi Ruohan frowned, a bit baffled. “Isn’t that enough? What, do you want me to kick you out of the entertainment industry?”

“No.” Ran Lin hurried to clarify. “I mean, the warning you’re giving me… is just that? Riding on popularity?”

“Don’t play dumb. Airport dramas, climbing up through variety shows—I’m too familiar with your tactics. This time you’ve wormed your way into <Sword of Fallen Flowers> just to ride the popularity wave to the end, right?” Xi Ruohan leaned closer to Ran Lin, glaring down at him, her nostrils almost skyward. “I’m telling you, taking advantage of colleagues can backfire. Sometimes, if you overdo it, you’ll get stuck at the bottom of the pot, unable to get out for a lifetime, never able to turn things around.”

“……”

“What? Speechless because I hit the nail on the head?”

“No.” Ran Lin swallowed, sincerely saying, “I just think your metaphor is very vivid…”

Xi Ruohan: “Has anyone told you that being snarky when someone is serious can be particularly annoying?”

Ran Lin: “Has anyone told you that you and Lu Yiyao are really similar?”

Xi Ruohan froze, her cheeks blushing rapidly, as if with the touch of a beautifying filter.

“How are we… similar?” Any threat, disdain, or mockery gave way to shyness.

Ran Lin smiled, but his mood grew complex after.

This girl really liked Lu Yiyao.

Stripping away fame, temper, acting skills, and all attributes attached to Xi Ruohan, what was exposed was a girl who dared to love and hate. Just being able to openly express “like” was enough for Ran Lin to envy.

And in the aspect of “thinking she knows it all but actually being sweet and naive”, she and Lu Yiyao indeed shared similarities.

“Hey, I asked you a question!” Waiting in vain for further explanation, Xi Ruohan grew impatient again.

The set was ready for the next scene.

Xi Ruohan glanced at the waiting crew behind her, urging anxiously. “Hey—”

“Sweet.” Ran Lin smiled at her deliberately, his eyes curving, gentle as jade. “You both are quite sweet.”

Watching Ran Lin’s fluttering figure, Xi Ruohan suddenly felt that he did resemble Fang Xian a bit.

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers>, Scene 99, Take 1…”

Lu Yiyao, seeing Xi Ruohan’s face clearly wearing a silly smile, didn’t understand what made her so happy.

Fortunately, with a “click”, the angry Zhao Buyao returned.

……

The morning’s dialogue scenes at the righteous mansion went smoothly. The group of four decided to form a defensive and offensive alliance, as they all sought the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. It was agreed to collaborate first and deal with the manual later. However, when they opened the coffins, they found tokens from the Zhaixing Tower. Specifically, the corpses in the righteous manor weren’t villagers from Liuma Town but members of Zhaixing Tower, including the tower’s master.

Zhaixing Tower, a prestigious sect in the martial world known for accomplishing any task for the right price, even fetching stars from the sky*, was now in disarray.

*Clarity: Their name [Zhaixing] (摘星) means reach for the stars.

The discovery of their corpses in this inconspicuous village’s righteous mansion was chilling.

What surprised the four even more was finding an artifact from the Shengtian Sect at the scene. All clues pointed to the sect as the murderers. Just as they discovered this, a group of men in black burst in, attempting to snatch the artifact.

With time pressing and heavy scenes to film, the actors quickly had lunch, and the action scene team was ready to go. The setting was still the “righteous mansion”, but the scale was much larger than in the morning.

Ran Lin was excited to wear the wire harness for the first time.

Tang Xiaoyu, an experienced actor, commented with a knowing look. “You won’t be smiling for long.”

Ran Lin felt a bit tight in the wire harness but didn’t take Tang Xiaoyu’s words too seriously.

However, once on set and hoisted into the air, Ran Lin was shocked.

He couldn’t even control his expressions, let alone speak his lines. The only feeling he had was constriction.

This wasn’t just ordinary discomfort but a suffocating tightness, akin to the Evil Queen disguised as an old hag, cinching Snow White’s corset so tight that she nearly died.

The assistant director had to call a halt.

The martial arts director, a hot-tempered man, exploded in anger, berating Ran Lin and questioning his ability. He suggested using a stunt double instead of wasting everyone’s time.

Being a martial artist, even the director treated him with respect. With no experience of his own, Ran Lin could only accept the criticism quietly.

Compared to Ran Lin, Tang Xiaoyu’s scenes were simpler, and Xi Ruohan, with her experience, performed flawlessly.

Because of Ran Lin, a single scene dragged on for an entire hour.

The atmosphere on set grew tense, and the martial arts director’s face, already stormy, darkened further.

Despite his anger, the martial arts director diligently instructed Ran Lin on the movements, explained the essentials, and demonstrated the actions, though he struggled to keep his voice calm.

Finally, after another attempt, the assistant director grudgingly approved the scene.

Ran Lin knew his movements were still lacking, but the crew couldn’t wait for his continuous NGs, so they had to make do.

With the most challenging scene behind them, the remaining ones were relatively easier. With more people and group fighting, individual performance demands weren’t as high.

They worked until 9 p.m., finally completing all the action scenes at the righteous mansion—an hour later than scheduled.

When the assistant director called it a day, Ran Lin’s thighs were numb.

“You did well. My first time with wires wasn’t even as good as yours.” Tang Xiaoyu, noticing Ran Lin’s dejection, patted his shoulder before going to remove his makeup.

Ran Lin appreciated it but knew his performance was lacking, responding with a wry smile, “Don’t try to comfort me.”

Unexpectedly, Tang Xiaoyu earnestly replied, “Really, the first time I was hoisted, I screamed out loud. It wasn’t leg pain, but…” Tang Xiaoyu looked around to ensure privacy before whispering with a pained expression, “It was… egg pain, you know, like your balls being crushed…”

“That’s enough.” Ran Lin stopped him, feeling a wave of sympathetic pain. “I can imagine.”

“Are you two not going to remove your makeup?” Xi Ruohan, after speaking with the assistant director, was ready to leave and saw the two chatting.

“We’re going now,” Tang Xiaoyu hastily replied. “I was just sharing some wire-fighting tips with him.”

Xi Ruohan took a sip of the tea handed to her by her assistant, her eyes showing disdain. “You’re teaching him? You should improve your own movements first. They lack strength and look like mere posturing.”

Tang Xiaoyu was dumbfounded on the spot.

After the lead actress left, Tang Xiaoyu dared to speak. “What a diva.”

Ran Lin laughed, remembering something. “She just looks fierce.”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised, doubtingly looking at Ran Lin’s smile, and whispered, “You’re not falling for her, are you?”

Ran Lin was exasperated, suspecting his fellow cast member was naïve. “I only acted with her for the first time today.”

“That’s common here,” Tang Xiaoyu said naturally. “Falling for each other while acting is pretty usual in this circle.”

Ran Lin suddenly remembered Tang Xiaoyu’s almost slipped mention of a girlfriend and had a lightbulb moment. “Is your girlfriend from the industry…”

“I’m off to remove my makeup. See you later!”

Xiaoyu hurried off.

Ran Lin laughed so hard he could finally feel the pain in his thighs.

……

“What a torture…”

In his hotel room, Ran Lin carefully removed his pants, revealing his pale thighs, then examined the bruising under the bright light.

The marks were from the wire harness, a large area of blood red, especially noticeable against Ran Lin’s fair skin, looking alarmingly stark.

“Who in their right mind invented this wire harness…”

Ran Lin knew this was a necessary hardship for filming martial arts scenes and had mentally prepared himself. Having endured through the day, he felt entitled to a private rant to ease his physical and mental strain.

Just touching the tender bruise on his inner thigh sent a sharp pain, causing Ran Lin to swiftly retract his hand, too scared to touch it again.

It really hurt.

Thinking about having to shower later filled him with dread.

At times like this, he couldn’t help but envy Lu Yiyao—Tang Jingyu, disabled since childhood, couldn’t perform qinggong or use inner force. He learned a few moves with Fang Xian but became formidable with hidden weapons he secretly learned. In the show, he never had to fly through the air, usually hiding and attacking from the shadows. Indeed, one could only envy the male lead who never had to take to the skies.

The direct result of this character design was that in the afternoon, while the three of them were filming the action scenes, Lu Yiyao didn’t need to come at all. His scenes of throwing hidden weapons from the shadows had already been filmed in the morning. The entire afternoon, he continued with the dialogue scenes in Group A under Director Chen’s guidance.

Ran Lin thought it was just as well that Lu Yiyao wasn’t there; otherwise, with all those NGs, he would have wanted to hide underground.

While lost in thought, a notification from WeChat rang out.

Opening it, he saw a message from Lu Yiyao—[Back at the hotel?]

Since the dialogue and action scenes wrapped at different times, Lu Yiyao must have been back for quite a while.

Too tired to speak, Ran Lin also sent a text in reply—[Yeah, just got back.]

[How did it feel hanging on wires? 😏]

Ran Lin knew Lu Yiyao was teasing him, but he really wasn’t in the mood for jokes and honestly replied—[Painful.]

Lu Yiyao was momentarily taken aback by the response on his screen.

He expected Ran Lin to joke about it, saying things like “Exciting,” “You should try it,” or “Like flying through the clouds like an immortal.”

But all Ran Lin replied was a single word.

The problem was, he could feel the pain just by reading the message.

Without much thought, Lu Yiyao called him directly.

Ran Lin was startled by the ringtone, regretting his honesty, and hesitated before answering.

Before he could speak, Lu Yiyao’s voice came through. “Are you alright?”

Ran Lin immediately tried to sound energetic. “I’m fine, just kidding.”

There was a pause on the other end before Lu Yiyao asked, “Where does it hurt?”

Ran Lin stubbornly denied. “I told you, I was joking. Can’t you take a joke…”

“If you don’t tell me, I’m coming down.” Lu Yiyao interrupted.

Ran Lin was confused. “Coming where?”

Lu Yiyao’s exasperation was audible. “Down to your floor to find you. Did hanging on wires make you stupid?”

Ran Lin hurriedly declined. “No need, no need. It’s just a bit tight wearing the harness all afternoon, but I’m fine now that I’ve taken it off, really!”

Lu Yiyao frowned, feeling something was off with Ran Lin.

It wasn’t a big deal to be hurt from hanging on wires, a common occurrence in filming. But it was precisely because it was trivial that Ran Lin’s hesitance made it suspicious.

“I’m going to shower. Let’s not talk for now,” Ran Lin excused himself.

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and agreed.

After hanging up, Lu Yiyao sat on his bed, thinking for two minutes before calling Tang Xiaoyu.

Tang Xiaoyu, showering at the time, picked up the phone to see it was Lu Yiyao and immediately answered, “Brother*?”

*[Da Ge] (大哥) Term used for the eldest brother.

Lately, Tang Xiaoyu enjoyed using their character names, feeling more comfortable than “Teacher Lu”.

Lu Yiyao didn’t mind and asked with concern, “How did the afternoon shoot go?”

Tang Xiaoyu was surprised that Lu Yiyao had time to care about him, attributing it to the camaraderie they developed last week. He reported, “Not bad. The first scene was a bit rough, but the rest went well.”

Lu Yiyao casually asked, “What happened in the first scene?”

Tang Xiaoyu candidly explained, “It was Ran Lin’s time on wires, so he needed some time to adjust.” He and Ran Lin got along well, so they referred to each other by their names.

Lu Yiyao guessed some of it. “Did he NG many times?”

Tang Xiaoyu sighed. “Yeah, the martial arts director almost lost it. Luckily, it got better later.”

“It’s understandable. His first time on wires must have been hard.”

“Yeah, not just for Ran Lin. Even I, who am used to it, suffered.”

“Were the wires that tight?”

“Of course, my thighs were all red. You have to wear loose and soft pants, or it rubs and hurts.”

“I’ve never been on wires…”

“I know. I thought you couldn’t handle it… Uh, I spoke too fast without thinking. Can I take that back?”

Lu Yiyao laughed, reassuring, “No problem. I like honesty.”

Tang Xiaoyu, after a moment’s reflection, decided to apologize for his assumptions. “Sorry for my presumptions. But you kept it too well hidden. If it weren’t for that Disneyland episode, I wouldn’t have known you’re afraid of heights.”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “It’s a natural fear, can’t help it.”

“No.” Tang Xiaoyu genuinely envied. “It means you’re blessed. At least you don’t have to hang on wires.”

“Is it really that tough?”

“Why would I lie to you? Wait a moment…”

True to his word, Tang Xiaoyu took responsibility for his claims. He stepped out of the shower, snapped a close-up “bruise on skin” photo showing a large red mark, and sent it to Lu Yiyao via WeChat.

Though abstract, with no risk of exposure, the photo clearly showed a painful-looking bruise, evoking sympathy from viewers.

Upon seeing the photo, Lu Yiyao felt a pain in his own thigh.

He couldn’t help but think of Ran Lin’s fair skin, imagining the marks on him, which seemed almost cruel.

“See? What do you think?” Tang Xiaoyu waited for feedback.

“I see it,” Lu Yiyao earnestly said. “I should send a gift to the scriptwriter.”

Tang Xiaoyu laughed in agreement. “Absolutely. The script is filled with love for you!”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, chatting briefly before ending the call, knowing Tang Xiaoyu was still showering.

However, Tang Xiaoyu didn’t resume his shower immediately. Instead, he admired his photo, feeling it had artistic merit, and uploaded it to Weibo with the caption “How a hero is made.”

The image was abstract, but his fans, keen-eyed, quickly realized it was a wire-work bruise, given Tang Xiaoyu’s filming schedule, and showered him with sympathy.

Ran Lin, also showering cautiously at low temperature and pressure, received the bloody photo from Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin was taken aback, initially not understanding the image, full of red, which was rather unsettling.

[???]—Just sending three question marks, Ran Lin felt proud of his restraint.

The reply came quickly—[Tang Xiaoyu’s thigh.]

Ran Lin stared at the words for a full minute.

[Why did he send you his thigh photo?]

Lu Yiyao raised an eyebrow. Shouldn’t the question be, “Why are you sending me this photo?”

But it didn’t matter. The response was more useful than he expected.

[To compare.]

Ran Lin frowned in confusion.

[Compare with whom?]

[You.]

[I’ve never sent you a photo of my thigh 💦.]

[You can send it now 😊.]

[……]

[?]

[Your tricks are too deep…]

[😳]

Ran Lin, looking at the blushing emoji, felt both annoyed and amused.

Although he ultimately didn’t send any weird photos, strangely enough, his thigh didn’t hurt as much anymore.

---

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