Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

Chapter 62

The celebration party for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> started in the afternoon and concluded successfully by evening.

These promotional events primarily revolve around the production team’s agenda, such as announcing viewership ratings and other metrics. Network representatives give speeches and set expectations, while the actors stand on stage primarily to support the event, participating in activities to liven up the atmosphere.

Lu Yiyao was well-acquainted with such events and remained calm throughout, cooperating when needed, speaking when it was his turn, and lightening the mood with jokes to elicit laughter from both the audience and other guests.

In contrast, Ran Lin was more invested, possibly experiencing for the first time the adulation for a project he participated in. He listened intently to every segment and every speaker, taking his turns to speak or participate very seriously.

Despite the heat from the stage lights, which caused even the composed Lu Yiyao to sweat, he noticed Ran Lin was faring much worse. Overwhelmed by his involvement, sweat trickled down Ran Lin’s temples, silently sliding into his shirt collar.

Ran Lin didn’t wear a tie today, opting for an elegant casual style. Under his blazer, the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a small patch of skin under the light, which glowed with a beautiful sheen. Lu Yiyao felt hopeless as he found himself wanting to bite into that skin, gently or hard, making Ran Lin gasp, cry out, or beg for mercy.

Daydreaming during work hours was something that had to be taken seriously for Lu Yiyao.

He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, but he couldn’t control himself. The person he thought about day and night was right beside him. Wanting to touch, to move, to be intimate was instinctual. And instinct was something that became more soothing the more it was indulged and more vigorous the more it was suppressed.

If he and Ran Lin weren’t celebrities, Lu Yiyao thought, things would be much more comfortable. However, if they weren’t celebrities, they might never have had the chance to meet, understand each other, and get to where they are today.

Amid these chaotic thoughts, the celebration came to an end.

As Lu Yiyao was heading back to the backstage rest area, he bumped into Huo Yuntao, who somehow had sneaked in. He was holding a brand-new handkerchief, asking Xi Ruohan, who had come down first, to sign it.

As Lu Yiyao approached, Xi Ruohan had just finished signing and left. Huo Yuntao stood there alone, admiring the handkerchief with satisfaction, not even noticing his old friend’s approach.

“If you had told me you were her fan, I would have gotten the autograph for you,” Lu Yiyao teased, only then noticing that the handkerchief Huo Yuntao held didn’t seem like a man’s. With its clean and elegant print, it was more like something for a young lady.

“I’m getting it for Panxi.” Huo Yuntao wasn’t surprised at being caught by Lu Yiyao; in fact, he was waiting for his brother. After putting the handkerchief away carefully, he looked up and seriously patted his old friend on the shoulder. “I’m only your fan.”

Lu Yiyao looked at his old friend’s eyes filled with a mischievous glint and suddenly remembered the saying—”Fan into the depths, naturally black*.”

*It’s a slang term that describes a situation where someone is a devoted fan of a celebrity or something that their obsession turns into nitpicking or overly critical behavior. The fandom becomes so intense that it paradoxically leads to negative or cynical attitudes towards the object of their adoration. In this case, the fan basically turns into a black fan (anti-fan).

“My car is downstairs. Tell your agent, and just come with me.” Huo Yuntao got straight to the point without any chit-chat.

Lu Yiyao was stunned for a moment. He had planned to meet at the restaurant and thought Huo Yuntao came over for something else, just happening to see him while getting an autograph and stopping to chat.

“Are you here to pick me up?”

“Otherwise?” Huo Yuntao rolled his eyes, looking around to ensure there was no danger, before whispering, “I’m not trying to shoot you down, but your wrap party is really boring. I wouldn’t come even if I was invited.”

Lu Yiyao had never enjoyed such considerate treatment, and his first reaction was suspicion, reflexively stepping back. “I have my own car.”

Huo Yuntao wanted to say more, but suddenly, he looked over Lu Yiyao’s shoulder and saw the main cast coming down from the stage. He closed his mouth, smiled, and nodded to the group, regardless of whether he knew them or not.

Lu Yiyao followed his gaze, saw it was the drama crew, and also nodded in greeting.

The crew recognized Lu Yiyao but not Huo Yuntao. Still, since he could get in here, they assumed he must be a staff member or related person, so no one paid special attention. Soon, they brushed past the two and continued down the corridor.

Once the surroundings quieted down again, Huo Yuntao lowered his voice. “I know you have a car, but when have you ever driven alone? You always need at least one person with you. Times have changed; you’re not alone anymore. You need to double the safety, understand?”

Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected this from Huo Yuntao. He was shocked but felt a warm complexity. It’s a friend worth having who thinks about these things for you, touching anyone. As for the complexity…

Lu Yiyao glanced at the excitement on Huo Yuntao’s face, feeling that the other seemed to enjoy this cat-and-mouse game with the paparazzi.

In fact, Huo Yuntao didn’t know that today Yao Hong didn’t come. Only Li Tong accompanied Lu Yiyao. So Lu Yiyao called Li Tong, telling him to follow the driver back first without waiting.

Then, Lu Yiyao followed Huo Yuntao to the elevator and into the underground parking lot. As they stepped out, Huo Yuntao’s car was parked in the nearest spot, just a few steps away from the elevator. Unless the paparazzi had cameras right at the elevator door, they wouldn’t catch anything.

As he settled into the back seat and closed the door, he heard Huo Yuntao’s sigh from the driver’s seat. “I wish I was a celebrity…”

Lu Yiyao thought to himself that his playful friend was indeed enjoying the thrill of outsmarting the paparazzi.

But he didn’t respond, instead greeting the girl in the passenger seat. “Panxi, you’ve been waiting long?”

“No, we just got here.” The girl in the passenger seat was petite and delicate, dressed in a soft, plain-colored dress that wasn’t flashy but very comfortable and homely. Her bobbed hair wasn’t overly styled, just naturally refreshing, and her voice was as gentle and cute as her appearance.

“You don’t have to be polite with him; we’ve been waiting for ages.” Huo Yuntao always felt irked seeing his wife being so tender towards Lu Yiyao.

Lin Panxi glanced at him with a hint of complaint, about to speak, but Huo Yuntao quickly pulled out the handkerchief signed by Xi Ruohan and handed it to her with a grin.

Lin Panxi seemed genuinely fond of Xi Ruohan, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the autograph, forgetting all about coaching her future husband on social etiquette.

Lu Yiyao felt a bit peculiar. After all, he was a drama actor himself. The fact that “female viewers prefer the female lead” was a bit shocking.

……

Yao Hong wasn’t accompanying Lu Yiyao, but Wang Xi was there with Ran Lin. When Ran Lin received a message from Lu Yiyao, he was with Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan, preparing to take the elevator down to the underground parking lot where the company car was parked.

Ran Lin had already briefed Wang Xi about the gathering, mentioning it was with Lu Yiyao and a few other friends, but he hadn’t mentioned leaving together after the celebration. Thus, Wang Xi had intended to have the company car drive him.

As the elevator descended, with the red floor numbers changing rapidly towards B1, Ran Lin had to gather his courage, trying to sound casual. “Xi Jie, Lu Yiyao just messaged me that his friends have all arrived, and we’re leaving together, so we won’t need the company car. You and Wanwan can head back directly.”

Wang Xi was preoccupied with work matters, but she paused, digesting the information. Once she understood, she was a bit puzzled. “Your relationship with Lu Yiyao is that good?”

She had thought the dinner Ran Lin mentioned was just a symbolic gathering with fellow cast members to maintain good relations. So, when Ran Lin briefed her, she hadn’t thought much of it. But now it seemed more like a private friends’ gathering, indicating Ran Lin had made it into Lu Yiyao’s inner circle, which was a good thing.

“Uh, well, after almost half a year in the same crew, we get along quite well.” Ran Lin thought about his and Lu Yiyao’s relationship, realizing he had to be somewhat truthful yet cautious with Wang Xi, who was well aware of his schedule.

Wang Xi was satisfied with the answer, nodding thoughtfully.

Suddenly, Ran Lin had a realization and hurriedly said, “Xi Jie, please don’t hype this up.”

His abrupt statement made sense to Wang Xi immediately. “Understood. Even though you’re rising, your status isn’t high enough yet; showing off would only bring criticism.”

“It’s not that,” Ran Lin replied without hesitation. “Even when my status does rise, I don’t want to show off. I don’t need people to know how close I am with Lu Yiyao. I’d rather have them focus on my work, not my personal life.”

Wang Xi looked at her artist, half amused, half admiring, and finally nodded in agreement. “Alright, you’re not even a big star yet, but you already have the demeanor of one.”

Ran Lin felt he might be speaking too boldly, though it was his genuine desire. But whether he could truly rise to fame was still uncertain. To Wang Xi, he probably seemed overconfident.

“Not bad,” Wang Xi suddenly patted his shoulder firmly, approvingly. “You have much more presence than when I first started managing you. I like it.”

Ran Lin didn’t know what to say to his manager’s unpredictable taste.

With a ding, the elevator reached B1.

Ran Lin let Wang Xi and Liu Wanwan exit first, then followed, choosing the opposite direction before circling back near the elevator to approach the black Porsche.

The tint on the car windows was dark, obscuring the view inside, but from two meters away, Ran Lin heard a click as the rear car door opened a crack.

Without a word, Ran Lin quickly stepped forward, opened the door, and got in.

Even after he settled into the car and closed the door, his heart was still pounding, praising his own cleverness while feeling the bittersweet nature of his love affair.

Unable to help himself, Lu Yiyao reached out and ruffled Ran Lin’s hair, praising, “Brilliant acting. When you brushed past the car window, I almost thought you didn’t see the car.”

Ran Lin laughed. “You sent the photo, and such an understated luxury car parked right by the elevator—how could I not see it?”

“Good eye.” Huo Yuntao, pleased with the praise for his car, didn’t forget the introductions. “This is my fiancée, Lin Panxi. Panxi, this is Ran Lin I told you about.”

Ran Lin wasn’t sure how much Huo Yuntao had shared about him, leading to a moment of hesitation.

Lin Panxi reached out first with a gentle smile. “Hello.”

Her smile was soothing, and Ran Lin naturally reached out, gently shaking her hand. “Hello.”

He expected a brief handshake, but when he tried to withdraw, she didn’t let go. Her grip was light but firm, and before he could wonder why, Lin Panxi softly asked, “Could you… sign something for me?”

Ran Lin couldn’t help but feel amused and flattered, this being the first time a friend asked for his autograph. “Of course.”

Lin Panxi immediately let go and carefully took out a neatly folded handkerchief and a pen from her bag, handing them to Ran Lin.

The handkerchief was a plain color, making the autograph stand out. Ran Lin took it, recognizing the familiar handwriting already on it, and looked at Lin Panxi, momentarily perplexed.

She quickly flipped the handkerchief to its clean side. “That’s Xi Ruohan’s autograph. Could you sign here? I really like <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.”

Ran Lin understood now, having all the actors from the same drama sign the same handkerchief was indeed more meaningful.

Without hesitation, Ran Lin signed his name, admiring his work for a second before unfolding the handkerchief a bit, curious if Lu Yiyao’s signature might be hidden inside.

As soon as Lin Panxi mentioned wanting an autograph, Lu Yiyao felt like he’d been shot in the knee. Seeing Ran Lin’s “in-depth observation”, he knew he was looking for his signature, feeling a mix of emotions.

“Don’t bother looking. Lao Lu isn’t there.” Huo Yuntao took the handkerchief from Ran Lin’s hands, handing it back to his wife, explaining, “She’s an ‘Immortal Elixir Party’ member.”

Ran Lin was embarrassed, while Lu Yiyao finally understood.

The “Immortal Elixir Party*” meant fans of the Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao CP. In Lu Yiyao’s view, it was practically a cult within a cult!

*Clarity: Immortal Elixir is [Xian Yao] (仙药). It sounds similar to Xian (闲) Yao (摇) from Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao, thus the CP name.

With her preference revealed, Lin Panxi glanced apologetically at Lu Yiyao.

Lu Yiyao didn’t blame Lin Panxi but glanced at Ran Lin instead.

The latter innocently spread his hands. “It’s not my fault I’m too charming.”

Lu Yiyao gave him a look before suddenly leaning in for a firm kiss.

Ran Lin was caught off guard. He was pressed against the seatback, unable to move. For a moment, it felt like Lu Yiyao wasn’t just kissing him but was about to devour his lips entirely.

Fortunately, the other party retreated after getting his fill, fierce and swift.

Still dazed, Ran Lin heard Lu Yiyao whisper in his ear, “It’s unhygienic to keep kissing the phone screen. Consider this disinfection.”

It wasn’t until the car was on the elevated road that Ran Lin’s brain, which had been blank, slowly started to recover.

He felt warmth from his hand and looked down to find that Lu Yiyao had taken it, interlocking their fingers without asking for permission.

Ran Lin gently leaned against his shoulder, feeling calm and secure, as if all the day’s fatigue had dissipated.

……

The dinner location was chosen by Huo Yuntao, a top-floor restaurant in a hotel. The spacious terrace was divided into separate spaces where diners could enjoy a quiet and private meal, feel the night breeze, and gaze upon Beijing’s nightscape.

By the time the four arrived at the restaurant, it was already dark. Ran Lin had taken off his suit jacket and was now in his shirt. As he stepped onto the terrace, he felt the cool breeze through his shirt, refreshing and pleasant.

The lights just began to illuminate the cityscape, offering a view of countless homes lit up at night.

“This place isn’t bad, right?” Huo Yuntao couldn’t wait for praise and had to ask himself.

Lu Yiyao stopped gazing into the distance and turned to affirm his old friend, “You always find the best places for food and fun in any city the fastest.”

Huo Yuntao had returned less than three months ago but already lived up to that reputation.

However, Young Master Huo didn’t want to take the responsibility because he immediately turned to explain to his wife, “Don’t listen to him. I wasn’t all fun and games abroad. I was studying hard!”

Lin Panxi was much smaller in stature. When she sat in her chair, she was dwarfed by Huo Yuntao, who seemed to lose all his imposing presence in front of her.

As they settled down, Huo Yuntao first asked, “What would you like to drink?”

Ran Lin wasn’t picky, so he replied, “Anything’s fine.”

“Anything’s fine” is often the most challenging request, but Huo Yuntao liked it. “Then I’ll recommend something. This restaurant has a special cocktail that’s really great and worth trying.”

Lu Yiyao could tell from the way Huo Yuntao looked at Ran Lin that he already had a recommendation in mind. One of Huo Yuntao’s hobbies was sharing his discoveries with friends, including but not limited to food and drink.

The special cocktail was just the beginning; the dishes that followed were also recommended by his friend, and they were just responsible for nodding in agreement.

Fortunately, his friend rarely made a mistake in his recommendations, so soon a joyful dinner commenced.

Lu Yiyao wasn’t a fan of drinking, indifferent to red, white, or yellow liquors, but he tolerated cocktails. Surprisingly, the recommended cocktail tasted great—almost like a soft drink. Unknowingly, Lu Yiyao had finished one glass and then asked the waiter for a second.

Huo Yuntao initially wanted to stop him, but thinking of his plans for the evening, he held back and continued telling Ran Lin about their glorious past—

“I knew him when he wasn’t as tall and mighty as he is now. He was quite short and was bullied by his classmates every day. I was ostracized in our class too, not just by the white kids but also by local Chinese, but unlike him, I didn’t back down. I always fought back. Still, I was outnumbered, so I thought I’d find an ally. In our whole grade, we were the only two Chinese, so I had to choose him. The first time I went to his dorm, he was being bullied by some bastards. I immediately stepped in, and from then on, we became best buddies…”

Huo Yuntao was animated in his storytelling, and Ran Lin listened intently.

This was a version of Lu Yiyao he didn’t know—smaller, quieter, studying abroad—and the stories, just like Huo Yuntao’s narration, were tinged with nostalgia.

Lu Yiyao put down his half-finished glass and looked at Huo Yuntao. “What do you mean we became best buddies right away? You helped me out, and then what, skipped the rest? You painted yourself as a hero.”

Huo Yuntao frowned, slightly irritated at being interrupted. “I’m trying to fill in Ran Lin on your background, so the focus is on you. My part isn’t important.”

“It’s not important, yet you make yourself out to be a savior.” If it was just the two of them, Huo Yuntao could exaggerate, but with Ran Lin there, Lu Yiyao felt the need to set the record straight. He turned Ran Lin’s shoulder to face him directly and narrated the actual events. “The first time he came to my dorm, I was indeed being bullied. When he arrived, it turned into both of us getting beaten up. Midway through, he ran off in the chaos. That’s when I learned I had such a fellow countryman.”

“What happened after that?” Ran Lin asked, touched by the lightness of Lu Yiyao’s story but sensing that those days were much harder than they were letting on. “Were you always bullied?”

“For the first few years, yes,” Lu Yiyao said, “but then we started growing and eventually settled all the old scores.”

“We were late bloomers!” Huo Yuntao interjected, clearly still bothered by it to this day.

Ran Lin was more interested in the aftermath. “How did you settle it?”

Lu Yiyao suddenly fell silent, a trace of embarrassment crossing his face.

Ran Lin was intrigued and about to probe further when he heard Huo Yuntao say, “Don’t ask. It’s all underhanded tactics. If you hear it, you might break up with him.”

“Let’s drink instead.” Clearly, the “revenge years” were indeed quite a story, so Lu Yiyao, feeling a bit flustered, raised his glass and clinked with Huo Yuntao.

Huo Yuntao reflexively raised his glass, clinking it before realizing, resulting in Lu Yiyao drinking while he didn’t. He then added to Ran Lin, “He only pretends to act properly in front of you.”

Lu Yiyao downed the rest of his drink and realized Huo Yuntao hadn’t even sipped his, still needling him. “Don’t listen to him; he’s never complimented me.”

Huo Yuntao sighed as he looked at his silly friend. “Lao Lu, do you understand what ‘psychological expectation effect’ means? If you make yourself out to be perfect from the start, your image can only go downhill later. So, you need to expose your flaws early on, so that Ran Lin will feel you are getting better later.”

Lu Yiyao was stunned, then suddenly felt that… maybe there was some sense to it?

Ran Lin watched them both with a smile, feeling that no entertainment was needed for the evening; just listening to their banter was joy enough.

Lu Yiyao turned to face Ran Lin’s smiling eyes and couldn’t help smiling back. “What are you smiling at?”

“I envy your friendship,” Ran Lin admitted honestly. The Lu Yiyao arguing with Huo Yuntao was so real and lively, and he found it very attractive.

“It’s all karma.” Lu Yiyao sighed. “Back then, he was the only fellow countryman in our grade. If there had been anyone else, I wouldn’t have bothered with him.”

Thinking of Lu Yiyao, only twelve years old and alone in a boarding school in a foreign land with a foreign language, Ran Lin felt sorry for him.

“Why did you have to go abroad so early?” Ran Lin couldn’t understand. “Couldn’t you have gone for high school or university instead?”

The table suddenly fell quiet.

Ran Lin sensed a momentary freeze in the atmosphere.

The lighting on the terrace wasn’t very bright, the kind of ambient lighting from chandeliers and floor lamps creating soft shadows, enough to see the table and companions but not too clear.

For instance, Lu Yiyao’s profile was obscured in the light and shadow, and Ran Lin struggled to see his eyes clearly.

The expressions on Huo Yuntao and Lin Panxi’s faces were also subtly altered.

When Ran Lin inadvertently met Lin Panxi’s gaze, she shook her head slightly, a small movement but clear to him, indicating his casual question was a sensitive topic for Lu Yiyao.

Thinking back, Ran Lin realized that there had been a similar situation when they first met, involving family, which Lu Yiyao was reluctant to discuss, clearly resisting the topic.

Ran Lin suddenly regretted it.

The atmosphere was so good tonight that he had let his guard down, or maybe the recent good times with Lu Yiyao made him feel they could share anything. He thought they no longer needed the caution and consideration he’d always exercised, but evidently, it wasn’t so simple.

The conversation then shifted to Lin Panxi, a violinist in a symphony orchestra about to go abroad for a performance. Huo Yuntao insisted on accompanying her, but she thought it wasn’t convenient for her boyfriend to follow her work trips, so Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin were pulled into the discussion for advice and suggestions.

The awkward question wasn’t raised again.

Ran Lin wasn’t sure what to feel, not really remembering what was discussed afterwards, only recalling Lu Yiyao loosening his tie and asking for more drinks, which Huo Yuntao eventually stopped.

“You can’t drink anymore,” Huo Yuntao said with an unusual sternness. “Any more will cause trouble.”

Lu Yiyao, slightly tipsy, looked at his friend, not understanding, “What trouble…”

Huo Yuntao rolled his eyes inwardly, not wanting to say more.

Ran Lin was surprised at Lu Yiyao’s low tolerance for alcohol; had he known, he would have stopped him sooner. Now it was too late, so he joined Huo Yuntao in a united front to prevent Lu Yiyao from drinking more.

When the meal was nearly finished, Huo Yuntao suddenly said to Ran Lin and Lin Panxi, “You sit here for a bit. I’ll take him to rest.”

After saying so, he helped Lu Yiyao up.

Although Lu Yiyao was a bit unsteady, his mind was still clear, and he asked confusedly, “Where are you taking me…”

Huo Yuntao, too exasperated to respond, just carried him off.

Ran Lin watched, baffled, as the two disappeared through the terrace door, then turned to Lin Panxi with a look full of questions—what is going on?

Lin Panxi didn’t speak, but a hint of shyness flashed in her eyes.

Ran Lin thought he might have misread her expression, but before he could ask, she gently said, “You and Lu Ge… Do you plan to continue like this?”

It didn’t take long for Ran Lin to realize Lin Panxi was fully aware of their situation, so there were no reservations in their conversations or jokes.

However, most of the conversation was dominated by Huo Yuntao, with Lin Panxi mostly listening and yielding to him, so Ran Lin hadn’t really spoken much to her directly.

Now suddenly asked, Ran Lin wasn’t quite sure what she meant. “Continue how?”

“Continue being so…” Lin Panxi tilted her head, thinking, then cautiously chose a word. “Hard.”

Ran Lin saw the concern in her eyes, similar to how Huo Yuntao treated Lu Yiyao, and realized that from the moment of the handshake, she had accepted him as one of her own.

“I don’t know.” Ran Lin smiled wryly. “At this stage, it seems there’s no better way. As for the future… who knows?”

Lin Panxi looked down before raising her eyes to say, “Don’t listen to Yuntao’s nonsense. Lu Ge is a really good person. When he’s committed to something, he’ll stick to it, so I believe he truly hopes to be with you forever.”

Ran Lin suddenly understood what Lin Panxi meant.

With a soft smile, he affirmed, “I will work hard with him, not letting him bear the hardships alone.”

Lin Panxi smiled back, her one-sided dimple making her look particularly interesting and adorable.

“If I were Lu Ge, I’d like you too,” she said.

Ran Lin chuckled, then thought about Lin Panxi, who had been in a long-distance relationship with her boyfriend for years, wondering how she seemed to understand Lu Yiyao so well.

When he voiced his curiosity, Lin Panxi let out a slightly annoyed laugh. “If you’ve been in a long-distance relationship for ten years, you’ve probably talked about every person and thing around a hundred times.”

The frustration was palpable.

It turned out this girl also had a bit of a temper.

Ran Lin raised his glass, lightly touching it to Lin Panxi’s. “To hardship.”

Lin Panxi tapped his glass back. “To the sweetness in hardship.”

When Huo Yuntao returned with a room card, Ran Lin finally understood what he meant by “trouble”.

“You take the elevator on the left. Go straight to the seventeenth floor. The room is on your left as you exit the elevator, and this entrance is a blind spot for the surveillance camera,” Huo Yuntao said with a conspiratorial expression like a successful villain in a drama. “The room was booked under Panxi and my name. Absolutely safe and perfect.”

Ran Lin’s heart skipped erratically.

But he calmly took the room key, which seemed to pulse with electricity in his hand.

After saying goodbye to Huo Yuntao and Lin Panxi, he felt like a thief going down to the seventeenth floor. He swiped the card to enter the room, and indeed, everything went smoothly. He was, of course, grateful for Huo Yuntao’s thoughtfulness, but the glint in Huo Yuntao’s eyes when he spoke made him feel like the other man was getting more than just the joy of helping a friend from this clever arrangement.

Lu Yiyao was lying on the bed, his suit off, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, and his tie loosely hanging around his neck.

The room was quiet except for the faint sound of air from the central air conditioning vent.

Ran Lin swallowed hard, suddenly feeling nervous.

Lu Yiyao’s eyes were closed, and it was unclear if he was squinting or sleeping. His brows were furrowed as if struggling with someone in his dreams.

Ran Lin held his breath, walking softly to the bed. The carpet was so plush it made no sound.

Finally, Ran Lin gently sat on the bed’s edge, lying beside him, propping his head up with one hand to closely observe his idol.

Lu Yiyao was also lying on his side, so now they were face to face.

Despite having drunk, Lu Yiyao’s breath carried only a faint smell of alcohol and more of the refreshing scent of his cologne.

Ran Lin moved his face closer, inch by inch, until his lips touched Lu Yiyao’s nose.

Suddenly, the man moved, startling Ran Lin, who reflexively thought to pull back but was then enveloped by an arm and saw Lu Yiyao slowly open his eyes, still slightly tipsy but somewhat clear.

“Flirt and run, is that your style?” Lu Yiyao murmured with a hint of drowsy nasal tone.

Ran Lin, pressed against him, felt the heat through the shirt, sending shivers down his spine.

“So you were pretending to sleep?” Ran Lin’s voice trembled.

Lu Yiyao suddenly turned over to pin him down, pressing his hands above his head and biting down on his neck.

Ran Lin shivered, forgetting to struggle, letting him nibble and bite.

Eventually, Lu Yiyao didn’t bear to use too much force, satisfying his craving with a mix of bites and licks before reluctantly moving away, his breath erratic from the intense restraint.

“You’ll have to wear a scarf tomorrow with that mark.”

Ran Lin heard Lu Yiyao mutter, seemingly considerate but sounding more like a complaint.

“Will it be winter the next time I see you?” Ran Lin knew it was a mood killer to say this now, but he couldn’t help it, thinking of Lu Yiyao soon starting a new project.

Lu Yiyao nuzzled Ran Lin’s face, almost coquettishly. “You could visit me on set.”

“As what?” Ran Lin, tickled by the rubbing, tried to push his face away.

“Stop moving.” Lu Yiyao grabbed his wrist, pressed it down, and rubbed his face against him a few more times before he was satisfied. “A bad influence.”

Ran Lin struggled, realizing he couldn’t free his wrist from Lu Yiyao’s grip. Being overpowered by another man dented his pride, his voice growing muffled. “That’s Huo Yuntao’s role, not mine.”

Lu Yiyao leaned in to nibble on his chin before getting an idea. “Then ‘close friend’.”

Ran Lin liked the title but didn’t intend to tell Lu Yiyao.

He always thought Lu Yiyao had eyes like peach blossoms, but actually, Lu Yiyao felt Ran Lin did. Especially now, pressed down, Ran Lin’s eyes shone with unwillingness, like rain-drenched peach petals, subtly fragrant and enticing.

“Why didn’t you keep asking?” Lu Yiyao suddenly asked.

Ran Lin, rendered weak by the gaze and thinking he was about to be devoured like sweet water, was momentarily dazed when he suddenly heard Lu Yiyao’s question.

Lu Yiyao repeated it for a second time, “Earlier at dinner, you asked why I went abroad so early for school. Why didn’t you continue asking?”

Ran Lin’s memory slowly revived. He had just buried this knot in his heart, thinking it might unravel at the right time or perhaps never, which he’d try to gradually forget, albeit difficultly.

Yet Lu Yiyao brought it up so quickly, not even letting it last the night.

Looking at the person on top of him, Ran Lin blinked and admitted, “It seemed like none of you wanted to talk about it. We don’t get to meet often, and I’m not dumb enough to ruin the mood.”

“How are you not dumb? You’re completely foolish.” Lu Yiyao sighed softly, moving off him to lie beside him, then pulling him close so Ran Lin’s back was against his chest and his chin rested in the crook of Ran Lin’s neck and shoulder, lightly rubbing. “Remember, anything related to me, if you want to know, just ask. Don’t worry about whether I want to answer.”

Ran Lin wanted to turn and see Lu Yiyao’s expression, but he was held too tightly, almost immobile. Lu Yiyao’s force contradicted his tender voice; the gentler he spoke, the firmer he held, and Ran Lin felt like he was being pulled into the other’s body.

“I didn’t choose to go abroad myself…”

Without warning, Lu Yiyao began, his warm breath spraying on Ran Lin’s nape, heating his earlobes, neck, shoulders, everywhere.

“My dad forced me out… When he and my mom divorced, custody of me went to him, and my sister’s to my mom. My mom disagreed and wanted to keep fighting, so he just sent me abroad. I was only twelve then, skinny as a bean sprout, and the white kids in class were two or three heads taller, bullying me every day. I called my dad, saying I didn’t want to study anymore, I wanted to come back…”

Ran Lin listened, his heart clenching involuntarily.

Lu Yiyao took several deep breaths to calm down, his voice low and bitter. “After that, every time I called, it was his assistant who picked up. He would buy me anything I needed or send money, but he would never put my dad on the phone. So every time I came back for the holidays, I would obediently listen to him talk about Chinese studies and traditional culture. Then, as soon as he let his guard down, I’d try to run away and stay in the country. But he always managed to send me back out again…”

“Later, as I grew older and could meet my mom whenever, he couldn’t control me anymore, and I didn’t insist on coming back as much. Do you understand that feeling? It’s like when you realize the thing you’ve been yearning for isn’t that hard to get, you suddenly don’t want it anymore. When he thought I could come back, I insisted on studying abroad, and when he wanted me to go to business school, I chose drama instead, always contrary…”

“Brat.” Ran Lin wanted to turn around and hug him, but he was the one being hugged instead. He felt distressed for him, yet his words came out teasing.

Lu Yiyao, however, seemed to enjoy his teasing, taking it as sweet nothings. “The bear was forced out of me.”

“So, have you still not forgiven your dad?”

“It’s not about forgiving or not forgiving. I used to hate him as a child, but now I don’t feel that way anymore. I still have resentments, but thinking about it, even though he did it out of spite against my mom, he still provided me with good educational opportunities and a comfortable life. Compared to many kids who have suffered, I’ve had much more fortune…”

“It’s just…” Lu Yiyao yawned softly, finding that sharing his feelings wasn’t as painful as he’d thought, rather a kind of liberating stretch. “My dad has a bad temper, and I hold grudges, so we still don’t get along…”

Ran Lin felt a softness in his heart.

He’d fallen for someone who was like a husky, intimidating and stoic at times but always showing his belly to loved ones. Even when bullied, he’d only howl foolishly, ultimately not willing to bite.

“Still calling me foolish.” Ran Lin sighed lightly. “You’re the silly one…”

……

No response came, just even breaths against his neck and ear.

Ran Lin widened his eyes in disbelief and turned to look. Indeed, the person holding him had fallen asleep.

Ran Lin looked up at the ceiling, internally debating but ultimately not having the heart to wake Lu Yiyao.

But he was inwardly annoyed—with that kind of tolerance for alcohol, better stick to lemonade!

He had promised Wang Xi to sign the contract for <Mint Green> early the next morning at the office, and he certainly couldn’t go in the previous night’s clothes. He had planned to return home in the middle of the night after their time together.

Now, well, there was plenty of time.

Quietly accompanying Lu Yiyao, or more accurately, Lu Yiyao sleeping while he stayed awake, Ran Lin finally got up when he had to leave, gently removing Lu Yiyao’s hand from himself.

Lu Yiyao seemed to sense something, his eyebrows furrowing and his hand groping around where Ran Lin had been lying before finally grabbing the blanket and pulling it into his embrace, then continuing to sleep contentedly.

Ran Lin stood by the bed, observing his face in the dim night light, and sighed softly. “Your driver’s license was definitely bought.”

With that, he gently kissed Lu Yiyao’s forehead, tidied himself up, slipped out of the hotel, and became a swift shadow in the night.

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

Chapter 61

Lu Yiyao’s pride lasted only until Yao Hong left. As the door closed, his smile gradually faded into a sorrowful and aggrieved expression.

Ran Lin couldn’t possibly have agreed to that bastard Ding something, but why hadn’t he mentioned anything about this message delivery? And even later, about the audition, Ran Lin didn’t mention a word.

Thinking it over, Lu Yiyao could only come up with a pessimistic answer that he was “worried about overthinking, being suspicious, or even making a jealous scene without reason.” And for Ran Lin to have such worries only meant one thing—that he, as a boyfriend, hadn’t managed to fully earn Ran Lin’s trust and peace of mind.

This realization made Lu Yiyao gloomy.

In his first relationship, he wasn’t quite clear on how lovers should interact. His most familiar couple, Huo Yuntao and Lin Panxi, who were long-distance most of the time, hardly provided a reference. Moreover, Ran Lin was a man.

He could only try his best based on instinct, but it was evidently not enough.

If only they could be together every day, Lu Yiyao thought while showering. Even if not every day, at least not like now, where seeing each other once a month was considered fortunate. The rest of their communication had to rely on messaging apps.

Many things were better said face-to-face, and many things were better done face-to-face. Probably only celebrities experience love like a mobile nurturing game.

Continuing his inner monologue until he finished showering, Lu Yiyao didn’t feel a bit sleepy and ended up clutching the corner of his blanket, pitifully, until dawn.

Finally, as the early summer sun rose, Lu Yiyao couldn’t wait to send a WeChat message—[Are you awake?]

……

Ran Lin got up early today as it was going to be a very busy day. With the explosive viewership of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> and Fang Xian’s rapidly rising popularity, the company immediately seized the opportunity to organize a fan meeting for him. Today was the first one in Beijing, and if it went well, they planned to visit other cities. However, the fan meeting was at 7 p.m., and in the morning, he had to visit the company first, as the higher-ups wanted to personally send their condolences to him. Then in the afternoon, there was a live broadcast, previously promised to fans on Weibo, and only after all this would be the evening’s main event.

When he received Lu Yiyao’s WeChat, he was already in the company’s dressing room getting styled.

Since they started dating, Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin both changed their WeChat profile pictures to landscapes, changing them every few days like a calendar. They even renamed each other’s contact names to “Teacher from Sanya” and “Iron Fan from the Airport” to have a cover story just in case their chats were seen by others.

So, Ran Lin glanced at the stylist in the mirror, switched his phone to silent mode, and carefully replied—[Started working.]

Lu Yiyao—[So early?]

Ran Lin—[Now you know I wasn’t bragging. I’m really famous now, back-to-back schedules, super busy!]

Lu Yiyao—[Please write ‘modesty’ a hundred times.]

Ran Lin—[Modesty is for others, for you I only have swagger. There’s a saying you’ve probably never heard, “Like an old lady stepping on the accelerator, shaking things up*!” That’s me right now 🦚 🦚 🦚.]

*It’s a colloquialism used to describe a situation where someone or something suddenly becomes active or agitated, much like an old lady who accidentally steps on the gas, causing the car to lurch forward unexpectedly and everyone inside shakes or jolts. In this context, Ran Lin is basically saying he’s the old lady suddenly stepping on the gas (rising to stardom) and shaking everyone up (getting more exciting fans).

Lu Yiyao stared at his phone, grinning foolishly.

Ran Lin never hesitated to tell him that he was different from others, so everything he received from Ran Lin felt uniquely special.

Lu Yiyao—[When are you free? I want to call you.]

Ran Lin—[Not now. Maybe after I’m done with styling, if the boss hasn’t arrived yet. I’ll find a place to call you. Are you always available?]

Lu Yiyao—[In another hour and a half, I have to start working too.]

Ran Lin—[Okay, I’ll message you before that.]

Lu Yiyao—[Feels like a spy rendezvous 💦.]

Ran Lin—[No, it’s like comrades who have formed a deep bond in the revolution.]

Ran Lin—[I love you ❤️.]

Ran Lin—[“Ran Lin has withdrawn a message”]

Lu Yiyao—[…Couldn’t you have waited two seconds longer before retracting?!]

Ran Lin—[Safety.]

Lu Yiyao—[Tigger smashing a honey jar.gif]]

Ran Lin smiled, feeling like the jar of honey had shattered in his heart, sweetening everything.

On the other end of the phone, the gloominess that hadn’t subsided the entire night suddenly disappeared without Li Yiyao noticing. As the chat ended, he felt clear and bright.

He decided to take another shower, feeling refreshed, ordered hotel breakfast, and while eating a sandwich with soy milk, watched the morning news.

Less than an hour and a half later, just an hour after their chat, Ran Lin’s call came through.

Li Tong was helping him pack in the room and knew from his boss’ expression that they were about to witness some more lovey-dovey moments. He discreetly left to his own room, giving his boss some privacy.

“What’s up?” Ran Lin asked as soon as the call connected. Although Lu Yiyao had only mentioned wanting to call, Ran Lin always felt Lu Yiyao had something to say, so as soon as he found a break, he sneaked off to a secluded spot and made the call.

Lu Yiyao hesitated for a moment but decided to start with the good news. “It looks like you’re confirmed for the lead in <Mint Green>.”

Ran Lin had made many guesses and assumptions while waiting for the call but never expected this. “Really?!”

Lu Yiyao could hear the disbelief and delight in the other’s voice, his gaze softening unconsciously. “Really. Do you still doubt my sources?”

“Not at all.” The voice on the other end suppressed a laugh with a bit of smugness. “My harbinger of good news is always accurate.”

Lu Yiyao smirked and, after a while, asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about the audition?”

There was no hesitation on the other end. The reply came naturally. “I thought the chances were slim, so I planned to wait until there was definite news to tell you. Even if it didn’t work out, it would just be a disappointment. I didn’t want you to be kept in suspense with me.”

Lu Yiyao always felt Ran Lin worried too much. “It’s you who is fighting for the role, not me. Why are you always worried about me?”

After a long silence, a soft sigh came through. “I always thought the fight was on me, but the suspense was in your heart. It seems I overestimated my charm.”

Lu Yiyao suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

He felt like his heart was a bucket tied to a well rope, which, despite his contemplations on life, had only been moving up and down vertically with the rope. But a single sentence from Ran Lin stirred up a wild wind, causing the rope to sway chaotically and the bucket to clatter against the wall of the well.

“Why did you stop talking all of a sudden?” Ran Lin felt a bit embarrassed. “I was just joking. If you don’t play along, it’ll be awkward for me.”

“You haven’t overestimated your charm,” Lu Yiyao said with a deepened voice, earnestly. “I think about you every day, worrying if you’ll miss good opportunities, if you’ll be bullied, or if you’ll meet bad people.”

Ran Lin blinked, feeling a flush of warmth on his face but still teasing, “Can’t you give a buffer before switching to deep emotional mode?”

Lu Yiyao confidently retorted, “I’ve always been in this mode. There’s no switching.”

Ran Lin loved his outpour of sweet nothings. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. We live in a society ruled by law; there aren’t that many bad people around.”

Lu Yiyao’s eyes dropped, murmuring softly, “Aren’t there…”

On the other end of the phone, Ran Lin’s brows furrowed, and the joking mood faded as he pondered and then cautiously asked, “Do those trying to take advantage of me… count?”

Lu Yiyao was caught off guard, not expecting the topic to be brought up before he even started. The already clear mood immediately returned to the primeval, expansive, full of birdsong and wildlife, lush greenery. “You tell me!”

After an anxious wait, Ran Lin was comforted by such a seemingly ferocious but paper tiger-like roar. “I think they should count.”

“Of course, they count!” Lu Yiyao wished he could rush over and do this and that and then this and that in an infinite loop!

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Lu Yiyao’s tone softened, carrying a tinge of sullenness. Actually, this was what he most wanted to ask.

But Ran Lin sensed something unusual in his lover’s reaction. Lu Yiyao’s tone didn’t sound like he had just found out. Wouldn’t the first reaction be to ask, “Who is that bastard?”

“You already know?” Though it was phrased as a question, the certainty was apparent.

Lu Yiyao didn’t hide it and straightforwardly affirmed, “Yeah.”

The phone fell silent for a moment, then came a sigh. “Hong Jie not becoming a gossip reporter is truly a blessing for celebrities.”

Lu Yiyao, amused, was about to agree when he heard Ran Lin continue, “Guilty by association. I was worried you’d overthink, always feeling it’s better to say less than more.”

“So it was about exchanging the lead role for your favor.” Lu Yiyao’s eyes narrowed, as if his dangerous gaze could pierce through space and incinerate that bastard to ashes.

Ran Lin frowned slightly, realizing something was off. Lu Yiyao knew all along, so why did it sound like he was just making sense of it?

“What exactly did Yao Hong tell you?” Ran Lin asked cautiously. They couldn’t see each other in person anymore, so at least over the phone, everything had to be thoroughly discussed to avoid any misunderstanding.

Lu Yiyao thought for a bit. “Just said that Ding… Kai, right, conveyed some message to you, but what he conveyed, and your response are unclear. However, it was he who recommended you for the audition, and then you indeed secured the lead role. The contract should be sent to your company in the next couple of days.”

Ran Lin leaned against the wall, feeling a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.

With such a description, anyone would think the worst!

“Hello?” Lu Yiyao noticed the silence on the other end after he finished speaking. “Can you still hear me?”

“Yes…” Ran Lin swallowed hard, not daring to imagine what Lu Yiyao might have thought if he hadn’t been honest.

“Why the silence?” Lu Yiyao started to worry.

Ran Lin lowered his voice. “I was thinking… What were you feeling when you heard all this from Hong Jie…”

Lu Yiyao fell silent for a while, then admitted, “Actually quite upset. I knew you were just worried about me overthinking; hence, you didn’t say anything, but not being able to reassure you is my fault.”

Ran Lin blinked, feeling the plot twist wasn’t quite what he expected.

“Don’t you doubt me? You know I got the lead role…” As Ran Lin spoke, he felt increasingly trapped.

“It has nothing to do with the outcome,” Lu Yiyao stated plainly. “I like you, and I know what kind of person you are.”

Ran Lin felt a whirl of emotions, unable to speak.

He looked up at the ceiling as if his lover was standing right in front of him, his image so grand it could break through the roof.

After mentally slapping himself a few times, he felt a bit better and spoke again. “Listen, I’m going to tell you everything…”

For the next few minutes, Ran Lin recounted the entire incident, from the conversation at the dinner, meeting Zhang Beichen, to the end of the audition, not missing any detail.

After listening, Lu Yiyao finally understood the whole story.

Regarding that bastard Ding Kai, he reserved his judgment, but one thing he grudgingly admitted—the guy had good taste.

“Lu Yiyao,” Ran Lin suddenly said, out of the blue. “I’m sorry.”

Lu Yiyao’s heart skipped a beat, and then his breathing became erratic.

Over the phone, Ran Lin’s voice was clear and resolute. “From now on, anything related to me, I absolutely won’t let you hear from someone else.”

……

On the way to the airport, Lu Yiyao reluctantly crawled out of his honey pot and then remembered he forgot to ask for a concession, quickly adding—[A promise with a penalty clause is a real promise 😊.]

Ran Lin must have been busy, as at 12:30 p.m., when Lu Yiyao landed, he finally received a reply—

[If you hear anything related to me from someone else that I haven’t told you, I’ll lie down and let you do whatever you want.]

Lu Yiyao unconsciously swallowed, suddenly contemplating whether to have Hong Jie dig up some more news.

Meanwhile, Ran Lin put his phone back in his pocket, his mood as clear as a blue lake.

Liu Wanwan thought his good mood was due to a recent chat with the company’s executives, as they were preparing to focus on promoting him. Anyone would be happy in his place.

But there was an extra sweetness in Ran Lin’s happiness, which Liu Wanwan couldn’t fathom, feeling like just being near Ran Lin could lift her spirits.

Wang Xi also noticed something unusual and asked during lunch, “What’s got you so happy?”

Ran Lin didn’t expect his mood to be so apparent. He snapped back to reality and replied, “I have a live broadcast this afternoon. A little excited.”

Wang Xi eyed him skeptically but couldn’t figure out the reason, so she let it go.

Ran Lin reined in his thoughts, no longer daring to be too boastful. Although he trusted Lu Yiyao’s information about the lead role in <Mint Green>, the contract hadn’t reached the company yet. Moreover, the source of the information wasn’t easy to explain, so he acted as if he didn’t know anything, waiting for any movement from the company.

His thoughts then drifted back to the earlier “heart-to-heart” with the company’s executives.

It wasn’t his first time having such talks, but all the previous ones felt superficially courteous, seemingly to reassure him of the company’s high regard so he wouldn’t overthink and just focus on developing with the company. But they were mostly vague and idealistic rather than concrete.

Today was different.

He could sense their “expectation and optimism” about his future. During the talk, they even discussed near- and far-reaching plans—not vague ideas, but actual, feasible strategies the company had seriously considered. For the first time, Ran Lin truly felt “valued”.

He knew he had <Sword of Fallen Flowers> to thank.

Since the betrayal of Tang and Fang, the viewership had exploded. Although the upward momentum slowed due to some criticisms of clichés and melodrama, it still stabilized at the forefront of domestic dramas. The dedicated setting, the elegantly poetic world of martial arts, and the actors’ dedicated, even stunning performances made it the undisputed king of dramas for the June slot.

Many viewers started watching mid-series, expressing that their battered souls found healing in this drama. The aesthetic yet not vulgar, whimsical yet free-spirited world of martial arts was indeed a rare sight in recent years.

Ran Lin had never imagined that becoming famous overnight would happen to him.

When it did, along with the happiness, there was also a bit of trepidation.

It felt like it happened overnight. By the time he noticed, his Weibo followers had already surpassed 8 million.

The popularity came so quickly that it always felt unreal, as if at any moment, it could just as quickly slip away.

All Ran Lin could do was constantly pull his drifting heart back down, reminding himself constantly that the path is still to be walked on the ground, step by step, moving forward.

At 2 p.m., the live broadcast began in the Dream Without Limits conference room.

The Weibo announcement had been made well in advance, so before it even started, the live room was packed.

Wang Xi said it was just chatting with fans, answering questions—anyway, an hour would pass quickly.

When Liu Wanwan handed over the phone, all set up, Ran Lin suddenly felt like escaping.

“Hello everyone, I’m Ran Lin.” Speaking to the phone felt odd, so Ran Lin tried to smile naturally.

To his relief, as soon as he spoke, the comments exploded, scrolling at double speed, all saying—

[Ahhhhhhhhh!]

[Fang Xian!!!]

[Your voice is so nice!]

[Sending flowers, hearts, stars, everything for you ahhhh—]

The comments came too fast for Ran Lin to keep up, so he just spoke freely. “Thank you everyone for supporting <Sword of Fallen Flowers>, and for liking Fang Xian… Uh, feel free to ask anything. I’ll answer what I can…”

“What do you mean by ‘what you can answer’?” Ran Lin looked at the questions popping up, his expression playful. “It means whatever won’t get me scolded by the company or beaten up by other artists, so please be mindful of your questions… Ah, this is… thanks to ‘Burning Elf’ for the roses, thanks to ‘I Want to Send the Scriptwriter Blades’ for the yacht…”

After reading the comments, Ran Lin laughed first.

Immediately, the comments section erupted into wails. Blades were no longer enough; they were planning to gang up and beat the scriptwriter.

“Count me in. Acting that part was so distressing, thinking every day why I’m so miserable…”

Ran Lin joined in the fans’ banter. As he was speaking, he suddenly saw a question—[What’s your private relationship with Lu Yiyao?]

The comments scrolled too quickly, and in a blink, they were gone. Ran Lin pretended not to see it, picking out some innocuous questions to answer.

Unknowingly, fifty minutes passed, and the substantial questions were mostly covered. Some sensitive questions kept scrolling, including about his relationship with Lu Yiyao and other various issues. Compared to those, this question was quite normal, but he instinctively avoided it due to his guilty conscience.

But on second thought, he and Lu Yiyao had worked together, and their Weibo interactions were still ongoing. Disassociating would actually be strange.

But with so many questions, overlooking a few wouldn’t matter to anyone.

Seeing it was almost time, Ran Lin offered, “Ten minutes left. Let me sing a song for you.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Liu Wanwan came over with his phone, playing the accompaniment.

Ran Lin sang his debut song.

The young man under the sun, has your dream come true? In this cold world, have you changed?

The first time he sang this song, he always felt the lyrics were a bit pessimistic.

But gradually, he understood that it’s not about whether dreams are realized, but if you’re still the same person.

This was what the song was really about—fortunately, he still was.

……

The fan meeting was bigger than Ran Lin had anticipated, but thankfully there was a host guiding the flow. He followed through the event almost in a daze, thanks also to the fans selected for interaction on stage, who were even more excited and nervous than him. When two nervous souls met, it ended up being quite harmonious.

By the time he returned to his apartment late at night, he could still hear fans calling his name.

[Finished work?]—In WeChat, it was a message from Lu Yiyao sent an hour ago.

Ran Lin just saw it, not even bothering to change his clothes, and replied—[Just finished. Just got back. How about you?]

Lu Yiyao obviously hadn’t gone to bed yet, as a video call came through immediately.

Ran Lin hurriedly answered, and Lu Yiyao’s handsome face soon appeared on the screen.

Ran Lin liked what he saw and deeply felt the person who coined the term “licking the screen” was a genius.

“Haven’t removed your makeup yet?” Lu Yiyao, oblivious to Ran Lin’s smitten gaze, instead noticed his face.

Ran Lin yawned wearily. “I just got back and saw your message.”

Lu Yiyao felt a pang of sympathy. “Then you should rest. Why bother replying?”

“By the time I’m done resting, who knows when we’ll be able to contact each other again,” Ran Lin said with a forlorn expression. “Of course, I have to seize the moment.”

Lu Yiyao felt a bittersweet sentiment. “It feels like we are racing against time in our relationship.”

“No.” Ran Lin thought for a moment. “It’s more like an online relationship.”

Lu Yiyao felt reassured, “No worries, online relationships can also end happily. Huo Yuntao and his wife are proof.”

Ran Lin: “……”

The word “wife” sent a small, non-fatal, tingling current through Ran Lin, buzzing through him.

Lu Yiyao, intently gazing into Ran Lin’s eyes, suddenly seemed to understand something and murmured softly again, “Wife?”

The current turned into a high voltage shock. Ran Lin heard a “boom”, and then his mind went blank.

Lu Yiyao was delighted by the dazed Ran Lin on the screen and kept calling out to him a dozen times. Finally, Ran Lin was jolted back to reality.

“Why am I the wife?” Ran Lin realized how hoarse his voice sounded after speaking.

“Either is fine, whatever you prefer.” Lu Yiyao leaned closer to the screen, filling up their communication world with his face, smiling softly.

“You really aren’t fussy…” Ran Lin covered his forehead, shielding his eyes, to avoid being seen blushing with sweet embarrassment.

After enough teasing, Lu Yiyao remembered the main topic. “By the way, there’s a celebration party the day after tomorrow. Huo Yuntao and Lin Panxi will also be there. If you’re free, we can get together after the party.”

The celebration party for the explosive success of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> was inevitable for a second wave of promotion and to boost the finale. It was also the only chance in June for him and Lu Yiyao to intersect openly.

Ran Lin knew Lin Panxi was Huo Yuntao’s fiancée. According to Lu Yiyao, Huo Yuntao’s return was for marriage, but as the date approached, the woman hesitated, probably due to the long distance. They decided to get engaged first and postpone the official wedding.

A gathering of four, including female company, wouldn’t raise any suspicions even if photographed, especially after a celebration party, which is considered normal socializing. So as soon as Lu Yiyao suggested it, Ran Lin immediately agreed. “I’m very free.”

Lu Yiyao smirked. “Then it’s a plan.”

Ran Lin nodded vigorously, then said, “Move your head up a bit.”

Lu Yiyao was confused. “What?”

Ran Lin instructed, “Just tilt your head up a little.”

Lu Yiyao, not understanding why, complied.

“Good.” Ran Lin was satisfied with the angle. “Stay like that.”

Lu Yiyao stayed still, then watched as Ran Lin’s mouth approached the screen. After the kiss, Ran Lin leaned back, looking refreshed. “You didn’t hang up this time.”

Despite the childish act, Lu Yiyao nodded earnestly, wholeheartedly praising, “Yeah, you’re the best.”

……

The day of the celebration party arrived quickly.

Wang Xi arrived at Ran Lin’s apartment two hours earlier than scheduled, not waiting downstairs but coming up to knock on the door directly.

Ran Lin was puzzled by the call, so as soon as he opened the door, he asked, “Xi Jie, why are you here so early?”

Wang Xi, without bothering to remove her shoes, just stood in the foyer, looking at him, her eyes filled with faint excitement.

Ran Lin felt a chill down his spine and swallowed, asking again, “Xi Jie, what’s the matter?”

Finally, after enough buildup, Wang Xi pulled out the printed contract from her bag, revealing the answer, “<Mint Green>, it’s secured.”

“Really? That’s great.” Ran Lin took the contract naturally.

But his casual demeanor made Wang Xi feel something was off. “Why aren’t you more excited?”

Ran Lin felt a bit guilty; he couldn’t exactly say he had inside information.

Thinking quickly, he resorted to “confidence.”

“I felt pretty good about my audition that day.” Ran Lin nodded wisely. “Yeah, I had a good feeling.”

Wang Xi rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t be too full of yourself; you were just lucky this time.”

Ran Lin believed that. As he told Lu Yiyao, he hadn’t held much hope during the audition. Even though Ding Kai mentioned fair competition, it was hard to imagine they’d still want to give him a fair chance after all that had happened. He initially thought it was just a formality.

Wang Xi’s excitement today was also for that reason.

Securing a significant role for an artist wouldn’t normally excite her this much, but refusing the investor’s conditions and still getting the role was rare, not only for artists she managed but also in the entertainment industry. The joy from this kind of success was a very special feeling.

“I’ve contacted Ding Kai to express our thanks, and surprisingly, it wasn’t an assistant but him personally on the phone,” Wang Xi said. “Guess what he said?”

Ran Lin couldn’t guess and just curiously awaited the revelation.

Wang Xi didn’t keep him in suspense, simply shrugging. “He said it was all the director’s decision; there was no need to thank him, and he was busy with other things. If there’s nothing else, I should get busy too.”

Ran Lin imagined several ways Ding Kai might have said this, none endearing, and half-seriously, half-jokingly asked, “Xi Jie, didn’t you feel like punching him then?”

Wang Xi thought about it seriously, then pointed at the contract in Ran Lin’s hand, tapping on the A4 paper to make a rustling noise—

“<Mint Green> saved him.”

……

On the way to the celebration party, Ran Lin secretly messaged Lu Yiyao—[Contract received.]

He didn’t need to be too explicit; he believed Lu Yiyao would understand.

But there was no reply from the other end.

It wasn’t until backstage at the celebration party that Ran Lin finally saw Lu Yiyao, who was chatting amiably with the director and the screenwriter.

There he was, sitting on a sofa, dressed in a black suit, exuding an elite aura. His fringe was swept back, revealing a handsome forehead; the hairstyle was neat and mature, enhancing his facial features’ charm, especially his eyes, brimming with ease and confidence amidst laughter and conversation. He no longer seemed like a popular young actor but rather had the taste of a superstar.

Of course, Ran Lin thought it might also be because he was viewing him through rose-colored glasses. After all, he had rarely seen this side of Lu Yiyao lately—professional, dignified, and dashing.

“Ran Lin.” Song Mang was the first to see him and immediately stood up to greet him. “Come here. We were just talking about you.”

Lu Yiyao and Chen Qizheng turned to look at him, and Ran Lin, after a moment of thought, politely said, “Director Chen, Lu Ge¹.”

Cheng Qizheng nodded, noticing nothing amiss.

Lu Yiyao almost burst a blood vessel¹, but luckily he caught the warning in Ran Lin’s eyes—so deep that only he could see through the facade to the essence.

¹Calling someone [Ge] (哥) is reserved, usually for close relationships. This is significant considering the kind of relationship Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao have, which is why Lu Yiyao reacted like this.

But as Ran Lin sat down, Lu Yiyao belatedly savored the address.

Lu Ge…

If it weren’t for the public setting, in a place where curtains needed to be drawn, calling out like that might indeed be quite interesting…

Ran Lin always felt Lu Yiyao’s gaze wandering, and not in a very proper manner, but given the public setting, he couldn’t well execute a private punishment. He could only ignore him and turn to Song Mang, casually asking, “Screenwriter Song, you were talking about me?”

“Yes,” Song Mang confirmed. “We were just discussing crying scenes, saying yours are different from others.”

Ran Lin was curious. “How so?”

Song Mang explained, “They’re contagious. Some people cry, and neither the co-actors nor the audience feel it, but when some cry, everyone wants to cry. You’re the latter.”

It was still early, and only the four of them were in the lounge, so this kind of actor evaluation was part of a casual private conversation, not worrying about others overthinking.

But with Lu Yiyao there, praising the second male lead in front of the primary one, even if just for appearances, Ran Lin felt the need to be courteous. “Don’t say that, Screenwriter Song. If I can cry well, it’s all thanks to Lu Ge. Most of my crying scenes were because of him.”

Chen Qizheng coughed twice, then, as if to cover it up, picked up his tea and leisurely started to sip.

But Ran Lin swore he saw a smile in the director’s eyes.

Alright, he also felt that his recent flattering comment was a bit cheesy, but under normal circumstances, if he and Lu Yiyao weren’t in an abnormal relationship, hearing the screenwriter praise him, he would definitely praise the lead first to prevent any misunderstandings.

“You don’t need to be modest.” Lu Yiyao spoke up lightly, his tone clearly holding back laughter. “Just now, Director Chen, Screenwriter Song, and I have reached a consensus. For setting the mood, it must be you who cries. My crying is mainly responsible for attracting the camera.”

Ran Lin stared at him blankly. “What do you mean by attracting the camera?”

Lu Yiyao explained seriously, “It means making the scene in the camera look better.”

Ran Lin blinked, seeming to understand. “So you’re saying you look better when you cry than I do?”

Lu Yiyao spread his hands, deliberately asking, “Any doubts?”

Ran Lin looked at him, then at the director and the screenwriter, puzzled. “Why are we discussing this? Isn’t it a fact?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback.

Song Mang laughed, patting him on the shoulder. “See? He’s devoted to you.”

Lu Yiyao knew Song Mang was teasing, but he almost wanted him to repeat it.

Most of the time, Ran Lin was watching Lu Yiyao with peripheral vision, as if missing a glance was a loss.

Neither had delved deep into what a secret relationship in the entertainment industry was like; they were just going by instinct. With a bit of trepidation, sweetness, thrill, and joy, sometimes it felt hard, but sometimes it felt incredibly happy.

As the time for the celebration party drew near and the actors started arriving, Tang Xiaoyu, Xi Ruohan… nearly all the key characters were there. The place became lively, but similarly, it was no longer convenient to chat about everything, mostly sticking to pleasantries.

Tang Xiaoyu did pull Ran Lin aside for a chat, which lasted until the staff informed them it was time for the red carpet, and they reluctantly parted.

The red carpet ceremony was an important prelude to the celebration party—the main creators and actors had to walk down the red carpet, sign their names on the signing board, and take a group photo. It wasn’t only about making an appearance but also about bringing good luck.

The love triangle between Tang Jingyu, Zhao Buyao, and Fang Xian in the drama was one of the most discussed topics. The organizers arranged for them to walk the red carpet together. Otherwise, Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao would pair up, and Xu Chongfei and Li’er would pair up, leaving Fang Xian alone, which would look quite pitiful.

The last time during the premiere celebration, Ran Lin walked the red carpet paired with another female actress, and during “Drifting Stories”, the five guests all walked the red carpet separately.

So this was the first time Ran Lin would share the red carpet frame with Lu Yiyao.

Ran Lin was also in a suit today, like Lu Yiyao, suitable for summer with its light, breathable linen material. Unlike Lu Yiyao’s meticulous look, he didn’t wear a tie but only buttoned one button of the suit, allowing the light-colored shirt underneath to be a focal point of color—casual yet formal.

Looking over Xi Ruohan’s head, Ran Lin tried to catch a glimpse of Lu Yiyao’s profile.

But before he could get a clear view, Lu Yiyao turned to look at him.

Their eyes met, and both saw what they needed in each other’s gaze.

Perhaps it was anticipation, courage, trust, love, or everything that makes you fearless about the future.

Xi Ruohan was accustomed to being ignored. During filming, these two only had eyes for each other. But now she still had to play the spoiler because—

“It’s time to go, gentlemen.”

As the cameras clicked incessantly, the trio elegantly stepped onto the red carpet. The lead actress walked in the middle, flanked by the handsome lead and second lead.

The red carpet wasn’t long and didn’t take much time to walk, but they tread each step firmly as if they weren’t walking on a red carpet but on the path of life itself.

At the signing board, Xi Ruohan stood in the middle, with Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao on either side. The three of them signed their names together.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, positioned at opposite ends of the board, managed to sign at approximately the same height and position, creating a sense of remote connection.

Ran Lin had never signed with such focus before; every stroke was deliberate.

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

Chapter 60

Wang Xi gave Ran Lin a look.

Actually, there was no need for it. Ran Lin understood and immediately stood up, took the decanter, and began to pour wine for Ding Kai.

The richly colored red wine slowly filled the glass, emitting an enticing luster under the crystal glass, and as the wine reached the right amount, Ran Lin skillfully rotated the bottom of the bottle, drawing it back just in time to prevent any spillage from the mouth of the bottle.

Ding Kai raised his eyebrows slightly and spoke with a hint of surprise in his tone. “Have you trained especially for this?”

This was the first serious conversation Ding Kai had initiated with him since he arrived, though the content was rather trivial.

Pretending not to notice the slight mockery, Ran Lin responded with a natural smile, “It’s a personal hobby. I like to enjoy a bit of wine in my spare time.”

Ran Lin’s voice was gentle and casual, sounding very sincere.

Wang Xi thought to herself, ‘Keep making up your tall tales.’

Aside from socializing, Ran Lin never touched alcohol, but truth be told, when it came to drinking, Ran Lin did know his stuff and was quite professional.

After pouring for Wang Xi and himself, Ran Lin put down the bottle but didn’t sit.

This dinner was different from the last one Wang Xi attended. Last time, Wang Xi was riding on someone else’s coattails to get acquainted with Ding Kai. This time, Wang Xi was the host, introducing her artist to a potential investor. Therefore, the first toast was naturally Wang Xi’s to make, but Ran Lin also had to be involved.

Sure enough, once the wine was poured, Wang Xi stood up. “Mr. Ding, thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to grace us with your presence. This first toast, Ran Lin and I would like to offer it to you.”

After finishing his sentence, Wang Xi raised her glass, and Ran Lin followed suit in a timely manner.

Ding Kai suddenly smiled, picked up his glass, but said, “Everyone sit down. I don’t like all these formalities at the dining table. Let’s just have dinner, enjoy the wine, and chat.”

Ding Kai’s voice was light and warm, at first sounding like he genuinely wanted a good conversation. But if you listened carefully, you could discern the underlying control in his tone. It wasn’t “you can have a good chat with others,” it was “I expect you to have a good chat.”

Perhaps Ding Kai truly disliked the formalities of dining tables. Ran Lin thought that in such a small gathering, without the need for pretenses, everyone could relax and enjoy as they pleased.

But of course, Wang Xi and he couldn’t just sit back down. Having already stood up, they had to finish the first toast.

Fortunately, Ding Kai didn’t stop them but only symbolically sipped a bit himself, a clear case of “you drink a full glass, I drink as I wish.”

Regardless, the meal started, and after a couple of bites, Ding Kai finally looked over. As their eyes met, Ran Lin quickly initiated a conversation. “President Ding, I heard you enjoy playing golf…”

“You need to update your sources,” Ding Kai interrupted him calmly. “I prefer basketball.”

Wang Xi internally flinched. Basketball? None of the information they had gathered mentioned this.

Ran Lin had only intended to lay the groundwork for the “real business” to follow, only to be countered immediately. But there was no time to discuss the accuracy of the information with Wang Xi, so he simply followed along, “What a coincidence. I also like basketball.”

Ding Kai had never seen such transparent flattery and deliberately asked, “What if I had just said I liked golf?”

Ran Lin, with all sincerity, replied, “Then I would have asked for your guidance, as I know nothing about golf.”

Ding Kai paused and then laughed.

He was sure that if he had just said he liked golf, Ran Lin would discuss golf as professionally as he poured wine. But now, since he preferred basketball, Ran Lin claimed to know nothing about golf. It was clear he was hedging his bets, yet doing so in a way that was amusing and hard to get angry at.

Ding Kai decided to revise his opinion—not only was this little star not stupid, but he was also quite clever.

In this circle, cleverness is common, but some turn cleverness into cunningness, while others make it endearing.

“Let’s not talk about sports. We all know why we’re here today,” Ding Kai said, gently swirling his wine as if admiring it. “Many people are vying for the lead role in <Mint Green>. You think you’re better than all of them. Give me a compelling reason.”

As his words faded, Ding Kai put down his wine glass and quietly looked at him.

Ran Lin suddenly realized the “pragmatic” label Wang Xi had was spot on; he had never encountered a financier who spoke so directly.

Wang Xi was also stunned; she thought Ding Kai would beat around the bush like last time. How did it suddenly become a straight punch?

However, opportunities don’t come twice. Without missing a beat, Wang Xi immediately chimed in, “Mr. Ding, the thing is, our Ran Lin…”

“Ms. Wang.” Ding Kai addressed her with a particularly polite title and a faint smile. “Let him speak. After all, he is the one who’s going to play the role.”

Wang Xi, hitting a soft spot, smiled awkwardly and fell silent.

Ding Kai then turned his gaze back to Ran Lin, composed and patient for an answer.

Ran Lin didn’t make him wait too long. “I don’t consider myself superior to all of them.”

Wang Xi frowned subtly.

Ding Kai smiled. It was hard to tell if he was joking or serious. “So you’re saying there’s no need to specifically choose you then?”

Ran Lin didn’t hesitate at all and sincerely said, “There are many excellent actors, and no role is absolutely meant for a specific actor, especially since I’m a newcomer. Even if I were to tell you, President Ding, that I’m the most suitable for this role and list reasons one, two, and three, at most, you would just smile.”

Ran Lin never considered himself foolish, but he also never thought he was so shrewd as to be invincible. He was still too green, and there were plenty of inscrutable people out there. When facing such unpredictable people, the only thing to do is to be honest and not try to outsmart them because they can see right through those little tricks.

So, what he told Ding Kai was the whole truth.

At most, he just made the truth sound a bit nicer, with a bit of flattery mixed in.

Wang Xi pursed her lips anxiously, unable to make any outward show of it. Ran Lin hadn’t said any of the things she had advised beforehand; instead, he was improvising. But if she were in his shoes, she’d probably improvise too—Ding Kai’s approach this time was completely different from the last and utterly unpredictable.

“You’re quite humble.” Ding Kai nodded, but then his tone shifted. “However, humility is a virtue elsewhere, but not in the entertainment industry. If you don’t have confidence in yourself, how can you expect investors to have confidence in you?”

Ran Lin was taken aback.

Wang Xi took a sip of her wine, her mind racing with thoughts of how to smooth things over.

Talking to someone like Ding Kai required full attention; the slightest distraction could lead you into a trap. Ran Lin had underestimated his opponent…

“I do have confidence in myself.” Ran Lin’s tone slightly rose.

Ding Kai narrowed his eyes, as if sizing him up, or perhaps mocking. “You just said that you’re a newcomer—that you’re not better than the others.”

“My confidence is in my ability to deliver my best performance and embrace the character. But I can’t and don’t have the right to deny other excellent actors. Saying no one but me could play the lead in <Mint Green> isn’t confidence; it’s ignorance.”

Ding Kai’s playful demeanor faded, and he became serious. “So, the question comes back: why should you be the one chosen?”

“It’s not that I must be chosen, but among the actors who could play this role well…” Ran Lin smirked slightly, a hint of pride in his voice. “I’m cheaper.”

“There’s nothing to be proud of being cheap…” Ding Kai was taken aback, never having seen someone so inexplicably proud of their lower value.

“It’s indeed a bit embarrassing most of the time, but at times like this, it becomes useful,” Ran Lin admitted openly, still unabashedly proud.

Ding Kai picked up his glass, took a gentle sip, and then sighed. “You’re not like Li Yi, you’re like Li Yan.”

Ran Lin shook his head without hesitation. “I’m not nearly as perceptive as Li Yan. He’s almost transcendent.”

Ding Kai’s wrist, still holding the wine glass, froze, and he looked up in surprise. “You’ve read the original novel?”

Ran Lin then realized, Li Yan, as the protagonist’s cousin, wasn’t given much attention in the original work, although the few details depicted him as an exceptionally wise and precocious young man. However, this character was omitted from the script.

In the midst of their conversation, Ran Lin hadn’t thought much about it, but now he realized it was another trap.

Ding Kai was wasting his talents in the film industry, Ran Lin thought. The man should be out there with a shovel, loosening soil, contributing to urban greenery.

Despite his internal criticism, he replied honestly, “Yes, I’ve read it. It’s quite good.”

“And how does it compare to the script?” Ding Kai asked.

Ran Lin replied, “The novel is richer in content but not as tightly paced as the script, and the script has more humor.”

Ding Kai inquired, “How many times have you read the script?”

Ran Lin: “Huh?”

Ding Kai slowed his speech and repeated more emphatically. “I asked how many times you have read the script.”

Ran Lin, still a bit dazed, spoke the truth. “I’ve been reading it continuously…”

Ding Kai stared at him motionlessly.

Ran Lin let him look, not moving a muscle.

At this point in the meal, the other party gave off a sense of oppression for the first time, and in the long and quiet stare, Ran Lin unconsciously held his breath.

Without warning, Ding Kai suddenly softly uttered his name. “Ran Lin…”

Ran Lin was almost startled, and after a few seconds, he responded, “Hm?”

Ding Kai nodded slightly, as if affirmatively. “Quite good.”

By the end of the meal, Ran Lin still couldn’t fathom the true meaning behind those two words.

The only certainty was that, on the way back, Wang Xi’s complexion wasn’t very good. Ran Lin carefully reviewed his own performance, feeling that if not one hundred percent, at least seventy percent was achieved. He avoided all the pitfalls he could and even outperformed occasionally. He couldn’t understand why the agent was dissatisfied or from what aspect she saw a bleak future.

[I’m home.]—By the time he returned to the apartment, it was already eleven at night. The first thing Ran Lin did was send a WeChat message to Lu Yiyao, who knew he had a dinner with investors that day and was also waiting for the progress.

But the response was a video call invitation.

Ran Lin hesitated for half a second before accepting, not wanting to seem too eager.

“How did it go?” Lu Yiyao appeared to be on a hotel sofa, his background a window with tightly drawn curtains, the deep color of the curtains making the bathrobe he wore seem whiter.

“Huh?” As the answer was delayed, Lu Yiyao voiced his confusion.

Ran Lin quickly pulled his thoughts back from wanting to dive into the phone and peel off the bathrobe, cleared his throat, and seriously said, “I think it went well. There should at least be hope, but Xi Jie’s expression wasn’t very good.”

“She’s probably just being cautious, afraid of being happy for nothing too early. But…” Lu Yiyao changed his tone and said, with a hint of indulgence, “I believe in you more.”

Ran Lin raised his chin, almost looking down his nose. “You should believe in me from the start.”

Lu Yiyao nodded unenthusiastically, saying, “Fine, keep jumping around while I’m not back.”

Ran Lin glanced at him sideways. “And what can you do when you’re back?”

Lu Yiyao suddenly leaned closer to the screen, whispering softly, “What do you think I can do to you?”

Ran Lin felt a shiver down his spine, almost losing grip on his phone, yet still pretended to be capable. “Then I need to think about it…”

Lu Yiyao nodded in agreement. “Hmm, try to think without limits.”

Ran Lin admitted defeat.

Holding the phone, he collapsed into bed, his face as red as a ripe tomato. “If you keep this up, I’m going to call the police…”

Lu Yiyao looked pitifully wronged. Being in a relationship where he could only look and not touch, at most only fantasizing, he was a ruffian, but a pitiful one.

“Hey, when are you coming back?” Ran Lin suddenly asked softly.

The pitiful ruffian instantly perked up. “Missing me?”

Ran Lin stared at him unblinkingly. “Very much.”

Lu Yiyao half-opened his mouth, then closed it again, swallowing back the words he had prepared, and said with a mixture of laughter and tears, “Why aren’t you teasing me anymore.”

Ran Lin smiled wryly. “Can’t always slap without soothing, right? What if you can’t take it and run away?”

Lu Yiyao’s eyes curved down. “Then you’ll have to chase after me.”

Ran Lin thought about it and very solemnly told him, “Then I’ll only chase you for three months. Not any longer.”

“Don’t worry.” Lu Yiyao confidently and shamelessly said, “I’d agree in three days.”

Ran Lin happily smiled, feeling deeply affectionate, and gave a gentle kiss towards the phone screen.

After the kiss, the video abruptly ended—Lu Yiyao’s lips were just near the red hang-up button.

Ran Lin felt maybe even the heavens were tired of their sweetness.

But then again, during the honeymoon phase, even if it turned to syrup, it could be forgiven.

……

Ding Kai’s response came a week later.

<Sword of Fallen Flowers> had already aired over ten episodes. The plot was getting better, and viewership was climbing steadily. Many viewers considered it the most authentic wuxia drama in recent years.

When Wang Xi called, Ran Lin had just finished watching the first episode of the evening and was browsing Weibo during the commercial break.

The plot had progressed to Tang Jingyu confirming that Fang Huanzhi was his family’s murderer, only to turn around and swear brotherhood with Fang Xian, starting an unskilled but increasingly firm disguise—marking the first minor climax of the story.

Online, fans were divided into three camps: those pro-Tang, those pro-Fang, and those only interested in “Fang Tang”. The “Tang supporters” believed Tang Jingyu was justified in his actions; a familial annihilation was an unforgivable offense, and not telling Fang Xian was actually considering the brotherhood and not knowing how to broach the subject; “Fang supporters” argued that Fang Xian was innocent from the beginning, not involved in the annihilation, genuinely caring about his brotherhood, ending up as a deceived sweet fool who still thought he and Tang Jingyu were best friends, a truly heart-wrenching sight; the “Fang Tang faction” didn’t care about right or wrong, only wanting to send razor blades to the scriptwriter.

In the midst of this online battle, Ran Lin’s ranking in the celebrity search heat quietly rose, most visibly with his fan count increasing rapidly every day. The volume of comments on his Weibo was so overwhelming that he couldn’t keep up with it.

Being noticed and appreciated for his work was Ran Lin’s happiest moment.

Finally, the commercial break ended. Ran Lin exited Weibo and sat upright on the sofa, ready to continue watching, but as soon as he set his phone aside, it rang.

It was Wang Xi.

It was almost nine in the evening. Ran Lin’s first thought was that there must be some last-minute change to the schedule for tomorrow, but as soon as he answered the call, Wang Xi got straight to the point. “Ding Kai wants to have dinner with you.”

It took Ran Lin half a minute to digest this.

It wasn’t unusual for financiers to invite artists through their agents, but the fact that “Ding Kai wanted to have dinner with him” was peculiar in itself.

“He… invited me?” Ran Lin couldn’t help but ask again.

There was a moment of silence on the other end before she said, “Yes, he invited you, and only you.”

“What do you mean, only me?” It was the first time Ran Lin felt his brain was insufficient.

Wang Xi sighed. “It means even I’m not needed. Just you and him, alone, for dinner.”

Ran Lin was stunned, seeming to understand something, his heart sinking slowly.

Wang Xi, certain he would understand, didn’t continue, only waiting patiently.

Ran Lin, belatedly realizing, asked, “Xi Jie, you’ve been upset since we got back from dinner that day. Is it because of this?”

Wang Xi no longer hid her feelings. “That day I just had a bad premonition, and today it was confirmed.”

Ran Lin suddenly felt angry, but he restrained himself, not lashing out. “So it doesn’t matter how good I am in the drama, or how deeply I understand the script; ‘this dinner’ is what’s important?”

“If you’re asking me, I don’t think so.” Wang Xi analyzed objectively, without any emotion. “Someone like Ding Kai, as a financier, primarily wants to make money. Only on the premise of ensuring profit will he consider extras.”

“You mean if my acting isn’t good, if my professional skills aren’t up to par, I don’t even qualify to be exploited?”

“That’s the reality. It’s not just you who can act; others with equivalent ability who are willing to go further naturally have more opportunities.”

The television had already started airing the second episode of the evening, but whatever the actors were saying, Ran Lin couldn’t hear a word.

The entire room seemed to be muted, with only Wang Xi’s voice on the phone, cold and clear.

“You’re not suggesting I agree to it, are you?”

Wang Xi was speechless. “I’m not a pimp.”

Ran Lin was flustered, just about to ask more, when Wang Xi continued, “If you are willing and can make the sacrifice, we’ll proceed accordingly. But if you’re not, I’ll decline the offer for you. Right now, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> has good reviews and viewership. There will always be more opportunities.”

Suddenly, Ran Lin wasn’t angry anymore, just left with a wry smile. “Based on your comparison, who would choose the first option?”

“Many people,” Wang Xi said without hesitation. “This isn’t just a chance at a leading role. Getting in with Ding Kai means you won’t worry about resources in the future. It’s just…”

Wang Xi hesitated, and Ran Lin curiously asked, “Just what?”

“Just that I’ve never heard of Ding Kai keeping anyone or being involved with anyone, let alone male artists. Either he’s very secretive, or… your charm is irresistible.”

Ran Lin felt a deep sense of resignation. “That kind of praise doesn’t make one happy at all…”

After finishing the call with his agent, Ran Lin zoned out for a while.

These days, as <Sword of Fallen Flowers> steadily rose in acclaim and viewership, he thought <Mint Green> was a sure thing. But just one call scattered months of effort like the wind.

It wasn’t until the second episode ended that Ran Lin finally snapped back to reality, looking at the hoverboard in the corner, feeling a bit sorry for all the times he fell.

Just then, Wang Xi’s call came through again.

Ran Lin was now somewhat fearful of Wang Xi’s calls, always feeling like countless demons and ghosts were waiting for his agent to relay their messages.

“Xi Jie?” Ran Lin called out softly.

“What’s with that tone? I’m not some midnight horror,” Wang Xi retorted, quickly getting to the point. “I’ve declined for you.”

Ran Lin was bewildered, checking the time; it was 9:30 p.m. “You could still contact them at this hour?”

Wang Xi chuckled. “Of course, shady dealings are best done at shady times.”

Ran Lin breathed a sigh of relief. Although the opportunity was gone, having it declined felt like a weight was lifted. And it was better to make such decisions early, the sooner the stance was clear, the better…

“Fair competition.” Suddenly, those words came through the phone.

Ran Lin didn’t catch it clearly. “What?”

Wang Xi decided to give the full version. “In response to your refusal, the other side expressed genuine regret. So now you’re on the same starting line as all the other candidates. It’s going to be a fair competition.”

“What does the same starting line mean?” Ran Lin suddenly realized Ding Kai, who was already hard to understand in person, became even more enigmatic through a go-between. “All the other actors have declined him too?”

Wang Xi thought if Ding Kai heard her artist’s naive comments, he might splash red wine in anger.

“As I said before, there’s no gossip about him in the industry. This time, he might really have just taken a liking to you.”

Ran Lin looked skyward, speechless, not knowing whether to critique or curse.

However, the fact that he could return to the same starting line was indeed surprising to him. “Normally, once I’ve refused, would I still have a chance for a fair competition? Shouldn’t I be suppressed out of anger to never rise again?”

“To be honest, I’m also a bit surprised,” Wang Xi said. “But if it’s Ding Kai, it seems understandable. His primary goal is always to make money. If you can give him profits, he’ll give you the opportunity. As for the extras, if it works, great; if not, he won’t insist. After all, I guess he’s not lacking people throwing themselves at him.”

Ran Lin still felt uneasy. “<Mint Green> wouldn’t be lacking just one alternative option like me, right?”

Unexpectedly, Wang Xi mentioned, “He did say that. He appreciates your acting and wants you not to feel pressured—to just perform well during the audition.”

Ran Lin was exasperated. He wasn’t feeling any pressure in the first place, thanks to whom!

“Wait, audition?” Ran Lin finally caught the keyword.

Wang Xi said, “All the candidates for the lead male role will be auditioned by the director one by one.”

Ran Lin asked, “Are you sure it’s the director who decides?”

Wang Xi confirmed, “There are five financiers for this drama, and so far, none have insisted on any particular actor. So, it’s up to the professional director to make the final call, ensuring a fair competition, and no party has objections.”

Ran Lin’s feelings suddenly became complex.

If he had agreed to Ding Kai’s “invitation”, the lead role would probably have been his. The other potential actors might not even know what happened before being deprived of a fair chance. Conversely, more often, he might be the one oblivious, suddenly deprived of opportunities.

In this industry, things are always changing rapidly, and no one knows what the next second might bring—an opportunity or a crisis. Ran Lin thought that to strive in the entertainment circle, one really needs equanimity.

……

Ran Lin didn’t expect to run into Zhang Beichen.

Their paths seemed to always cross at audition sites, last time for <Sword of Fallen Flowers> and this time for <Mint Green>.

The difference was that last time they were competing for the second and third male leads, but this time they were both vying for the lead role.

When he arrived at the audition site, Zhang Beichen had just finished his tryout. Seeing Ran Lin, he was quite surprised, pausing for a moment before saying, “Long time no see.”

Zhang Beichen was wearing a refreshing T-shirt and casual pants, looking like a university student on campus.

Ran Lin’s outfit was somewhat similar to his; the only difference being the lighter color of his pants.

Zhang Beichen noticed too, sized him up, and said with a smile, “Our tastes are quite similar.”

Ran Lin couldn’t think of what to say and awkwardly smiled. “Mm.”

Zhang Beichen frowned in confusion, sensing something off, and asked, “Are you okay? You seem off.”

Ran Lin quickly shook his head. “No, I’m just thinking about my lines.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met, and I’m standing right in front of you. You could at least think of me a bit,” Zhang Beichen half-teased, half-complained.

Actually, Ran Lin could have been warmer to him. He could blatantly lie in front of financiers, but facing Zhang Beichen like this, he really didn’t know what to say.

Zhang Beichen tilted his head, looked at him for a while, then suddenly smiled. “I won’t disturb you anymore. Go ahead.”

Ran Lin entered the audition site somewhat awkwardly, clutching his hoverboard.

He didn’t know why he was the one feeling awkward. It was only once he was inside that he remembered he had intended to make a cool entrance on his hoverboard, but now he looked more like a Fuwa holding a carp in a New Year picture.

After watching Ran Lin go in, Zhang Beichen’s smile faded, and he turned to face Wang Xi.

Wang Xi smiled at him and then entered the site.

But Zhang Beichen was certain. At the moment their eyes met, there was no friendliness or smile in Wang Xi’s eyes, but vigilance and wariness.

Zhang Beichen’s smile completely disappeared, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

Agent Wu Xuefeng came out after him. After Zhang Beichen’s audition, Wu Xuefeng had lingered to chat with the director. Upon coming out, he saw his artist deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” Wu Xuefeng asked curiously.

Zhang Beichen didn’t immediately respond but said, “Let’s talk in the car.”

Sensing something was up, Wu Xuefeng didn’t say more, following his artist out until they got into the car. As the driver merged into the flow of traffic, he asked, “What’s going on?”

Zhang Beichen pondered for a few seconds, then said, “They might have found out.”

Wu Xuefeng, having seen Ran Lin and Wang Xi at the site, quickly understood but thought his artist’s reaction was somewhat amusing. “It’s been so long; what does it matter if they know? Are they going to dredge up old grievances?”

Sometimes Zhang Beichen really disliked Wu Xuefeng’s dismissive attitude, so he didn’t bother explaining further, just looked out the window with complex emotions, hard to define.

“I spoke to the director.” Wu Xuefeng still felt this matter was more important. “He said you did well.”

Zhang Beichen twitched the corners of his mouth and said lightly, “What, is he supposed to say in front of you that your artist was no good?”

“No, no, this time you really were good. I was quite engrossed when you were acting,” Wu Xuefeng complimented, then remembered something with a smile. “Mr. Qin really knows his stuff. A little guidance from him, and you’ve improved so much.”

Zhang Beichen found the comment irritating and retorted. “I’ve been devouring the script and the original work for two months. It wasn’t just a few casual suggestions that made me leap forward.”

Wu Xuefeng was taken aback by the retort, then laughed. “I was just saying; no need for the temper.”

Zhang Beichen hated this most about Wu Xuefeng—it was like punching cotton. No matter how angry you got, it didn’t land.

“But there’s something I don’t understand,” Wu Xuefeng continued, “If you had Mr. Qin vie for this audition slot for you, why not just have him secure the lead role directly?”

Zhang Beichen scoffed. “What? Do you think I’m his dad? If I want the lead role, he’ll just give it to me? Besides, he’s not a financier for this drama. Just having a fair chance to compete is good enough.”

Wu Xuefeng shrugged, making no further comment.

The relationship between Zhang Beichen and Mr. Qin had already surpassed him, so only his artist knew the extent of their association. Mr. Qin might not be a financier for this drama, but if he were willing to exert influence, the financiers would consider his opinion. However, to get Mr. Qin to put in even a little effort, his own artist would have to exert much more, and clearly, Zhang Beichen wasn’t inclined to do so.

……

Mountain Stream: [Damn, this is too cruel. Tang Jingyu is inhumane. 😭😭😭]

Heartless and Guiltless: [I’m taking Fang Xian away. Do whatever you want!! 😭😭😭]

Fang Tang Haters Club: [I’ll forever hate Tang Jingyu! Starting today, I’m Fang Xian’s toxic supporter*!!!]

*Refers to fans who only like one member of an idol group and hate all the other members. Nowadays, it generally refer to fanatics who only like their idol and harm other artists.

Love of Yao: [Am I the only one who feels sorry for Tang Jingyu? He didn’t know Haikong would poison them… 😭]

Shivering Official Pair Party: [Um, I feel sorry for Tang Jingyu, but I feel sorrier for Zhao Buyao… Why does the official pairing feel like a cult! 😭😭😭]

Daring to Steal Immortal Elixir from Yao Pond: [Ran Lin’s performance as Fang Xian is so good! It’s heartbreaking! From black fan to passerby fan to super fan to mom fan*!!]

*Clarity: There are many fan types among the fandom. A mom fan is someone who looks at their star as a mother. Generally these are much older ladies (aunties), thus they are considered “moms”.

Waiting for the Blossoming Flowers: [Fang Xian is really too good, too good. When he scolded Haikong saying, “You expect me to trust you over my brother?” my heart shattered into pieces… Haven’t cried watching TV in years, the scriptwriter and actors are all poisonous 💧💧💧]

In the dressing room, Lu Yiyao browsed Weibo while the stylist blow-dried his hair.

The noise of the hairdryer didn’t affect his good mood at all.

<Sword of Fallen Flowers> aired its 30^th episode yesterday—the martial arts convention, Fang Huanzhi’s poisoning, Haikong’s framing, and Fang Tang’s split.

The steadily growing viewership exploded.

Online, many criticized the plot as clichéd but were still deeply moved, cursing the scriptwriter while clutching their chests, some even wiping away tears.

Many professional critics gave a similar analysis—the plot may not be particularly astonishing, but the actors’ performances and the quality of the episodes almost entirely made up for the script’s shortcomings. Moreover, the drama captured the long-lost essence of the martial arts world. The promotional phrase “Long-lost chivalrous tenderness, poetically depicted world of martial arts, deep conspiracies, all culminating in a sword amidst falling flowers” was indeed not an exaggeration.

Lu Yiyao had anticipated this response when he finished filming the drama, but now that the day had come, with the entire internet praising Ran Lin’s acting and empathizing with Fang Xian, he suddenly felt the happiness of his treasure being recognized.

An overwhelming happiness.

So happy that even when he saw comments cursing Tang Jingyu and criticizing his own acting, he wanted to reply with a “kiss kiss”.

Yao Hong watched her artist grinning while browsing Weibo and knew he must have seen more praise for Ran Lin. Ever since he successfully pursued his love interest and started a relationship, he hadn’t had a single day of coolness.

Thankfully, he still maintained his composure during appearances, whether on stage, recording shows, or attending various events. He remained as handsome as ever, eliciting screams, and continued to be professional and dedicated.

But in private, like now, Yao Hong could think of no other word than “silly” to describe him.

She understood that it was the honeymoon phase, where one’s head tends to be a bit heated, but she worried that this wasn’t just a phase and that her artist might continue to be this smitten. The thought alone made Yao Hong despair.

Her artist, done with styling, handed his phone to the assistant and cheerfully went to record.

It was already 11 p.m., and the brief rest was just for a touch-up. With the current pace, they were likely to record until the early hours. But Lu Yiyao’s spirits were as high as if he had just woken up.

“What’s up?” Seeing the assistant staring at Lu Yiyao’s now-dark phone screen, Yao Hong asked curiously.

The makeup artist had just left, and only the two of them remained in the room. Li Tong looked up, seemingly emotional. “Hong Jie, how come Lu Ge likes… you know, that person so much.”

Being cautious about eavesdroppers, he was careful with his words.

Yao Hong appreciated his vigilance but had no answer to his question.

Li Tong didn’t really expect an answer from Yao Hong. Leaning back in his chair, he sighed dramatically. “I wish I could fall in love too—”

Yao Hong gave him a look, unable to bear it.

Yet her mood didn’t lighten.

Turning on her phone, she re-entered the WeChat group, looking at the latest gossip coming out, her mind in turmoil.

……

Lu Yiyao’s recording session lasted until 2 a.m., and he almost slept the entire way back to the hotel, only to be woken up by Li Tong upon arrival.

He didn’t feel the fatigue while recording, but once he took a short nap and was woken up, all the exhaustion hit him at once, making his steps back to his room a bit unsteady.

He had planned to take a quick shower and continue sleeping, but instead of Li Tong, Yao Hong followed him into his room.

“Hong Jie?” Lu Yiyao, mustering energy, looked at his agent in confusion.

Yao Hong had been conflicted the entire way about whether to speak up or not. There was no solid proof, but concerning Lu Yiyao, even the slightest possibility warranted her not wanting him to remain unaware.

“Ran Lin is likely to play the lead male role in <Mint Green>.” Yao Hong didn’t beat around the bush and directly said, “The contract has already been drawn up, and it should be sent to Dream Without Limits in a couple of days.”

“Really?” Lu Yiyao was surprised. After a few incidents, he had come to deeply trust Yao Hong’s information network. Often, she would find out things before the parties involved did. Yao Hong was a significant force behind his “bearer of good news” persona. “If it’s confirmed, I need to tell him right away.”

Yao Hong nodded. “The investor was originally fond of him, and after the audition, the director was also very satisfied.”

Lu Yiyao felt something was off.

Yao Hong’s voice was steady and neutral, not necessarily excited because of Ran Lin’s news, but it didn’t seem like her usual calm either, more like she was holding back.

“Hong Jie, just say what you want to say. We don’t need to consider so much between us,” Lu Yiyao said earnestly.

After a long pause, Yao Hong looked up and said, “Investor Ding Kai and Ran Lin had dinner together. It was through him that Ran Lin got the chance to audition, and… he probably conveyed some messages to Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yao Hong looked at him squarely. “What you’re thinking. Trading certain things for the lead role.”

Lu Yiyao asked, “You mean Ran Lin agreed to Ding Kai’s terms, and that’s why he got the contract?”

Yao Hong hesitated before saying, “All we can confirm is that Ding Kai conveyed some message. As for the content of the message and Ran Lin’s response, only the two of them know.” After a moment, Yao Hong added, “Or maybe Wang Xi knows too.”

Lu Yiyao’s voice was calm and steady. “So there’s no solid proof?”

“But it is true that Ding Kai, like you, also likes men,” Yao Hong said. “Although not many in the circle know, and he’s quite low-key with not much gossip, there are no secrets in this world.”

Lu Yiyao nodded. “Alright, I understand.”

Yao Hong suddenly regretted bringing it up. She didn’t want to slander anyone, but she also couldn’t stand by and watch Lu Yiyao be deceived. “Perhaps it’s not as bad as I think. There might be things I don’t know. I’m just deducing from the norm that Ding Kai conveyed a message, and Ran Lin got the lead role, which naturally leads one to connect the two. But on the other hand, if there’s really nothing between them, time will reveal the truth. I believe time reveals a person’s heart.”

“No need, Hong Jie.” Lu Yiyao looked at his agent calmly. “I knew about the dinner between Ran Lin and Ding Kai, but I didn’t know about the things you mentioned. However, I believe if Ding Kai conveyed any message, the only possible response he would have gotten is rejection.”

Yao Hong was prepared to face Lu Yiyao’s anger, as no one in love likes to hear bad things about their partner.

But Lu Yiyao wasn’t in a hurry to refute angrily. He was calm, composed, and confident. He might be puzzled by the facts, but his trust in his partner was unwavering.

For the first time, Yao Hong felt her artist had grown up and was no longer the naive young man she thought he was.

“Do you trust him that much?”

“In this world, there may be no secrets,” Lu Yiyao said with a hint of pride curving his lips. “But Ran Lin is impervious to all poisons.”

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

Chapter 59

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Lu Yiyao chose the dumbest method.

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

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

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

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

He liked this person.

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

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

Until Huo Yuntao’s phone call.

The call was abrupt, reckless, extremely impolite.

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

This was Huo Yuntao’s attitude.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the scene didn’t seem very optimistic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lao Huo, turn around.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao replied, “Marvelous.”

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

Bang—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a passionate and oppressive kiss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Foul!

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

Thump, thump, thump.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huo Yuntao frowned. “A very good friend?”

Ran Lin glanced at Lu Yiyao.

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

Huo Yuntao no longer wanted to talk to these two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao responded, “Mm.”

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

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

Huo Yuntao prodded, “And then?”

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Huo Yuntao: 囧. His luck was really…

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He will steal the show.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Li Fengrui wasn’t pleased either.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Applause suddenly erupted again.

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

[I want to come see you.]

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

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

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

[AHHHHHHHH.gif]

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao—[What if I can’t hold back?]

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

Lu Yiyao—[……]

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

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

Ten minutes later, in Ran Lin’s room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The three of them “drove” all night.

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

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

……

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

That night, <Sword of Fallen Flowers> premiered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ran Lin?” Ding Kai looked over mildly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, Ran Lin found himself missing Lei Baishi.

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