Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 52

Lu Yiyao had never considered his fondness for Ran Lin to be anything beyond friendship.

This unwavering belief persisted until yesterday.

At the start of the wrap party, he was still agonizing over “finding a way of interaction comfortable for both.” Out of consideration for Ran Lin’s feelings, he thought he should actively avoid his gaze. However, distancing himself would likely lead to a fading relationship, which he clearly didn’t want.

Thus, whether to prioritize Ran Lin’s feelings or his own became an almost unsolvable problem.

Until Ran Lin said, “I like you.”

When Lu Yiyao first realized Ran Lin’s feelings, he worried countless times that Ran Lin would impulsively confess, because he couldn’t think of a way to respond. Once things were made explicit, even the nicest rejection is still a rejection, and friendship would truly become impossible.

Later, as both tacitly understood each other, the situation stabilized, and this “troubling what-if” slowly dissipated from Lu Yiyao’s mind.

But unexpectedly, his worst fears became reality.

After a brief moment of mental blankness, Lu Yiyao found his mind divided into two.

One part of him said, “The worst-case scenario has happened. What are you doing standing around? Think quickly about how to handle this without making things more awkward.”

The other part didn’t speak, just sat there quietly, smiling slightly. The smile was shallow but sweet, sweet enough to melt into the blood flowing to his heart and, with every heartbeat, spread to every corner of his body.

Before he could decide which voice to follow, Ran Lin unilaterally declared, “After this drink, let’s turn a page on all this mess.”

The reactions of the two parts of his mind were almost instantaneous.

The first part was throwing confetti and setting off firecrackers in celebration; the second part’s smile disappeared, bewildered.

Lu Yiyao only knew the first part of himself, never considering the existence of the second.

He had always thought Ran Lin’s confession would be a difficult situation to manage. But unexpectedly, when he heard those words, the only clarity in the brief mental shutdown was a hint of sweetness.

He liked hearing Ran Lin say those words.

This was the conclusion he came to on the way back to the hotel after replaying the events in his mind.

But at that moment, the two parts of his mind were already fighting, and the phrase “to a friendship that lasts forever” was somehow desperately pulled out amidst the chaos.

If not for Zhang Beichen’s timely WeChat message, the situation might have become even more awkward.

Because at that time, he couldn’t mediate between the two conflicting parts of himself, and to make matters worse, a third part emerged. This one didn’t join the fray but stood outside the battlefield, arms crossed and frowning, scolding, “You have time to fight each other, why not team up and ask Ran Lin what ‘turning the page on all this mess’ means? How did liking us become a mess!”

Lu Yiyao didn’t know whose advice to follow.

So, he decided not to listen to anyone but continue listening to Ran Lin.

Listening to Ran Lin talk about his debut, his family, everything.

Lu Yiyao couldn’t clearly remember what he contributed to the conversation, only feeling that not thinking about anything and just chatting was very comfortable, so much so that he wished it could go on forever.

His mind, like mashed paste, slowly cooled down on the way back to the hotel.

Perhaps also thanks to Li Tong.

To make his question sound less odd, he substituted Ran Lin with “a girl” in his hypothetical scenario.

His assistant was decidedly enthusiastic—it would be the first time a girl liked him, and he would definitely go for it!

Amused yet exasperated, Lu Yiyao whimsically applied the hypothetical to himself.

What if Ran Lin were a girl? How would the problem change?

Instantly, all the problems seemed to dissolve.

He admired this girl, enjoyed her company, and if she happened to like him back, he would become Li Tong #2, joyfully reaching out to embrace her.

Li Tong asked, “Lu Ge, do you actually want to avoid her or not?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t need to think to answer that question.

If he wanted to avoid, he wouldn’t have been so conflicted for so many days; if he wanted to avoid, he wouldn’t have felt so lost and reluctant when Ran Lin said it was time to turn the page.

At that moment, he realized his feelings for Ran Lin were more than just friendship. It was the kind of liking that could potentially evolve into love.

He had misunderstood the premise from the beginning, which was why everything became so complicated.

But misunderstanding this premise was inevitable.

Lu Yiyao had never thought it possible for him to fall for another man.

This self-awareness of his sexual orientation was as firm as his self-awareness of his gender.

But when his assistant assumed the person troubling him was a female celebrity, and when he himself stepped out of the “friendship” perspective, everything made sense.

The same rejection had no impact on his life when it came from Xi Ruohan but rejecting Ran Lin had consumed years’ worth of mental energy over a few months.

The same turning of the page from Xi Ruohan was a relief, whereas from Ran Lin, it left him feeling empty and lost.

That WeChat message was the final test Lu Yiyao set for himself.

Ran Lin cooperated, not replying until the next morning.

Even if Lu Yiyao was slow to notice, he could feel the changes in himself before and after receiving the message. If a person’s ordinary message can cause such fluctuations in your mood, then continuing to consider it “just friends” is truly self-deception.

He didn’t know if he was gay.

But he had definitely fallen for Ran Lin—after Ran Lin had completely turned the page.

Lu Yiyao had never encountered such a vexing script in his life and suspected even this was written by Song Mang.

“Lu Ge, I think caution is good, but you should know that good girls don’t wait around, and sometimes being too cautious can make you miss good opportunities.”

Li Tong, helping his boss pack, observed, sensing the boss, who had seemed to have a sudden clarity upon opening the door, was fading, replaced by a beautiful man once again wrapped in worries.

It’s like, after a long wait, finally catching a big fish. For the first few minutes, you’re so happy you want to sing, but then you realize that you neither know how to cook nor how to keep it, so you can’t eat it or keep it alive. Reluctant to release it back into the water, you just stand awkwardly in the wind, holding the fish, filled with sorrow and trouble.

Upon hearing this, Lu Yiyao gave him a deep look and sighed. “You don’t understand.”

“…” Li Tong couldn’t take it anymore and decided to speak his mind. “Lu Ge, no offense, but based on the questions you asked me last night and your behavior now, I really think I understand… No, I’m sure I understand more than you.”

Lu Yiyao was amused by his assistant’s earnest righteousness and ended up laughing, then shook his head, explaining, “I fully trust your expertise in matters of the heart. If I really do pursue someone, you’ll be the first one I consult.”

Li Tong was stunned and puzzled. “Does that mean you haven’t decided whether to pursue her or not? I thought you were sure you liked her. Why not go after her?”

Lu Yiyao lowered his head, continuing to pack his luggage. “Because I don’t know how long this liking will last. What if it’s just a temporary illusion caused by working closely together during filming? That’s not uncommon. What if I chase her and then realize it’s not right and I don’t feel the same way anymore? Breaking up then would be irresponsible.”

Li Tong opened his mouth in surprise and, after a while, said, “So it’s that female actor from the group…”

Lu Yiyao’s folding paused for half a second, mentally crumpling up that talkative part of himself and throwing it into Niagara Falls!

Li Tong didn’t expect any response from his boss. With such high security, even accidentally revealing something was like a blessing from the gossip gods for his curious heart.

Lu Yiyao’s method of folding clothes was a bit complicated, but indeed, as he methodically folded them, they ended up neatly arranged and easily stored in the luggage.

Li Tong always thought it could be filmed and put online as a storage video tutorial.

The suitcase indeed became tidy and orderly. If it were up to him to create such a systematically packed suitcase with such laborious work, he’d rather keep the suitcase messy.

Li Tong thought, this was their difference—Lu Yiyao lived too earnestly.

Being too earnest leads to hardship.

Who cares if it’s just acting or a temporary delusion? Instead of overthinking, why not just date and see?

But he couldn’t say that, and his boss wouldn’t do that either. If he did, he wouldn’t be Lu Yiyao anymore.

Being earnest is difficult, so those who stick to it are precious.

“Li Tong…” After folding the last piece of clothing, Lu Yiyao slowly looked up and unexpectedly asked, “Why are you called Li Tong¹?”

Li Tong swallowed and truthfully explained, “My parents were classmates, so…”

Lu Yiyao asked, “Then why not call you Li Xue¹?”

Li Tong scratched his head, realizing he had never asked his parents about this and ventured a guess. “Maybe they both didn’t like studying¹…”

¹Clarity: [Tong] (同) means same, while Xue [学] means study.

Lu Yiyao suddenly realized his question was incredibly nonsensical.

The shock of potentially being gay was more intense than he had anticipated and had a delayed impact. Once the sweetness of the realization “I like Ran Lin” passed, the upheaval of his sexual orientation became clearer, even making him slightly paranoid.

Accepting he might be gay was harder than accepting his feelings for Ran Lin.

But if he wasn’t gay, just as he told Li Tong, he wasn’t confident that his “liking” would last long.

Ding-dong.

Just as Li Tong was about to remind him, Lu Yiyao quickly grabbed his phone and lit up the screen.

Li Tong was nearly startled and couldn’t help asking curiously, “Is it that person?”

Lu Yiyao knew he meant the “actress”, so he played along. “It’s Ran Lin. He’s already left and just let me know.”

Li Tong didn’t think anything of it, pulling out his phone to check for new messages and then grumbled, “Not cool, leaving without saying anything.”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled. “Are you talking about Ran Lin?”

“No.” Li Tong quickly clarified, “I mean Liu Wanwan.”

Lu Yiyao asked, “Who’s that?”

Li Tong explained, “Ran Ge’s assistant, the girl with really fair skin.”

Lu Yiyao recalled her, but asked, “What’s her name?”

Li Tong replied, “Liu Wanwan¹, like the crescent moon¹.”

Lu Yiyao: “……¹“

¹[Wan] (弯) means bend. Her name derives from crescent moon (月牙弯弯). The joke here is, Lu Yiyao just discovered he is bent (gay), which elicits this response.

Li Tong asked, “Lu Ge, what’s wrong?”

Lu Yiyao replied, “Nothing, just a bit nostalgic for the past.”

When everything was straightforward, the world seemed simple. But with a shake, suddenly everything seems ambiguous.

Lu Yiyao thought, the perspective from which you view the world is indeed crucial…

……

Lu Yiyao went home for his twenty-eighth visit—to Xicheng, the home of his mother and sister.

It wasn’t the maid who opened the door, but his sister.

“Brother—”

Her delighted call hadn’t even finished before she had already thrown herself into Lu Yiyao’s arms.

Lu Yimeng, at 171cm, usually wore high heels and carried an imposing presence, preferring trousers and bold red lips, looking even more like a female CEO than their mother.

But only in front of her brother did she instantly turn into a cutesy girl.

Lu Yiyao, resigned to having his sister cling to him like a koala, walked into the living room, asking, “Where’s Mom?”

“You really timed your return.”

Before Lu Yimeng could answer, Fan Li had already come downstairs, looking snidely at her son.

Seeing their mother, the first to react was actually Lu Yimeng, who immediately hopped off Lu Yiyao and sat obediently on the couch, distancing herself from the impending “mother-son reunion”.

Lu Yiyao always thought “wearing loungewear with the flair of a business suit” was his mother’s unique skill. For instance, now, the comfortable material and light color of her attire didn’t hide her imposing aura, forcing Lu Yiyao to comply by saying, “Happy New Year President Fan.”

Fan Li’s expression fell, the aloof demeanor breaking as she commanded irritably, “Come here.”

Lu Yiyao dared not delay, hurrying up the stairs to stand before his mother for inspection.

Fan Li scrutinized him for a while, frowning unhappily. “Why have you lost weight? Aren’t they feeding you properly on set?”

“I’m eating well. It’s just that the role required me to be thin,” Lu Yiyao quickly explained. Otherwise, the confirmed narrative of “hardship on set” would make his mother nag until the end of the year.

Fan Li was half-convinced, but seeing her son still looked vibrant, she reluctantly accepted his explanation.

Lu Yimeng pretended to watch TV but kept glancing over. The thinness was just the appetizer; her mother’s real concerns hadn’t even been addressed yet. So, for safety, she decided it was best to remain invisible.

Lu Yiyao entered the home at 7 p.m., and within half an hour, the family of three was sitting down for dinner, which was why his mother commented on his timely return.

However, after secretly inquiring with the maid, Lu Yiyao relaxed, knowing his mother had only returned home twenty minutes before him. Choosing to return in the evening was right, given Ms. Fan Li’s level of busyness rivaled his own as an A-list actor.

“Eat more.” Fan Li served her son a shrimp, her tone gentle and caring. However, her expression remained cold, leading to a mismatch between her tone and facial expression.

Lu Yiyao, puzzled, glanced at Lu Yimeng.

His sister refused to meet his gaze and focused on eating.

Lu Yiyao got the hint.

He leisurely peeled the shrimp, and just as he finished peeling one without eating it, Fan Li’s patience ran out—

“Da Chu told me everything.”

Without thinking, Lu Yiyao knew it had to be about this; otherwise, there wouldn’t be any other reason for him to upset his mother during his months in Hengdian.

Putting down the shrimp, Lu Yiyao sighed helplessly. “I knew I couldn’t trust Da Chu.”

Before Fan Li could speak, Lu Yimeng couldn’t help but interject, “Brother, you’re so naive, thinking Da Chu could keep a secret for you…”

The rest of her words were swallowed under her mother’s stern gaze.

Lu Yimeng shrank back, remaining silent.

Fan Li was satisfied and continued to look at her son, saying indifferently, “Tell me, why did you feel the need to hide it?”

“It’s all resolved,” Lu Yiyao said. “I didn’t want to upset you with it again.”

Fan Li raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. “You’re afraid I’d get involved, aren’t you?”

Lu Yiyao put on a flattering smile that said, “Mom, you’re so clever.”

Lu Yimeng rolled her eyes at him—Bootlicker.

Lu Yiyao glanced back—It’s called survival skills.

Indeed, in front of her son’s smile, Fan Li’s expression remained tight, but her eyes slowly softened.

Lu Yiyao knew his mom didn’t really want to do anything to Zhang Beichen; otherwise, she wouldn’t have waited months to ask him about it—the disloyal Da Chu must have reported everything as soon as it happened.

What bothered his mom was that her son was bullied and didn’t retaliate. But while she might be displeased, she still respected his decisions.

This was where his mother differed most from his father.

In fact, if it had been his father, he might not have intervened directly, but even without intervening, he would have given a thorough lecture to feel content.

“Brother.” Sensing the tension easing, Lu Yimeng’s curiosity resurfaced. “Is that Zhang Beichen the one you filmed the variety show with?”

Lu Yiyao was a bit surprised. “You remember quite clearly.”

“Of course,” Lu Yimeng said with some displeasure. “I don’t miss any of your shows. I’m your number one fan!”

A smile touched Lu Yiyao’s eyes.

Lu Yimeng, however, was indignant on behalf of her brother. “You’ve been on a variety show together; even if not friends, you’re acquaintances. He shouldn’t be the one to backstab you.”

“In your brother’s circle, no one but themselves is off-limits.” Fan Li huffed lightly.

Lu Yiyao frowned. “Mom…”

“Alright, alright, I’m biased,” Fan Li admitted quickly. She and her son always agreed to disagree. “But through this incident, you should understand that while you mustn’t harbor ill will towards others, you also can’t be naive. Just because you are sincere with others doesn’t mean they will reciprocate.”

“I understand.” Lu Yiyao felt overestimated. “But I haven’t been sincerely sincere with everyone, nor do I expect heartfelt sincerity in return. I just do my job and earn my rightful income.”

Fan Li lifted her eyelids. “Then your input-output ratio is too low.”

Lu Yiyao 囧: “Being a star has a low input-output ratio?”

“Of course.” Fan Li didn’t hesitate. “If you were in business, who would have the time to insult you online? Do you think your investment is only in labor? Being a celebrity requires fulfilling the fantasies of the audience; the hidden costs are immeasurable.”

“Mom,” Lu Yiyao said somewhat moved, “you sound exactly like my agent.”

“Hmm.” Lu Yimeng nodded. “An agent who’s eager for you to quit the industry.”

Fan Li glared at the two heartless kids and decided to stop talking. Otherwise, she’d be too aggravated to finish her meal.

Just when Lu Yiyao thought the dinner might pass peacefully, towards the end, his mother suddenly said, “I don’t care about anything else, but you absolutely cannot find a girlfriend in the entertainment industry. That’s my bottom line.”

Lu Yiyao felt an internal twist.

It was a long-standing attitude from his mother, one Lu Yiyao was accustomed to. Usually, he would just nod along; after all, without a specific person in mind, there was no point in arguing about hypotheticals.

But today, he felt an urge to argue.

“The entertainment industry isn’t as chaotic as you think. I’m also part of it. Am I chaotic?”

Fan Li’s eyes flashed with insight, but she didn’t speak immediately, just steadily observing her son.

Lu Yimeng aligned with her mother on this issue. “Brother, you’re the exception, okay? There aren’t many as naïve as you—not just in the entertainment industry but the whole world.”

Lu Yiyao looked at her complexly, unsure whether to be annoyed by her exaggeration or comforted by her perpetual support for her big brother.

“Do you… have a girlfriend?” Fan Li suddenly asked, her tone neutral, emotion hard to gauge.

Lu Yiyao gathered himself and innocently looked up at his mother, trying to keep his expression and voice unblemished. “I work 360 days a year. I’d like to date, but where would I find the time?”

Fan Li scrutinized her son’s expression for a moment, finding it 70% believable but 30% suspicious.

Lu Yimeng didn’t doubt at all. “Mom, don’t be so suspicious. With Brother’s peculiar standards, I’d be surprised if I met my sister-in-law before I turned 30.”

Fan Li remained silent.

Lu Yiyao reassuringly patted Lu Yimeng’s head. “Those who know me best are my own sister.”

Lu Yimeng felt something was off, and after Lu Yiyao withdrew his hand, she suddenly widened her eyes, “Brother, did you even wash your hands after peeling the shrimp?!”

Lu Yiyao burst into laughter.

Lu Yimeng lamented her freshly washed hair.

Fan Li watched her “loving” children with a sense of satisfaction but insisted on her bottom line. “Regardless, someone from the entertainment industry is out of the question.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t mind, but Lu Yimeng was annoyed. “Mom, not every relationship leads to marriage. You don’t need to worry so much.”

Fan Li really didn’t understand how she gave birth to two such oblivious children. “Others might not marry who they date, but if your brother dates someone, he’s certain to marry them.”

Lu Yimeng: “…That’s actually a good point. I’m speechless.”

Lu Yiyao held his forehead, suddenly missing the East City residence with its gloomy and oppressive atmosphere. At least it was… quiet.

Lu Yiyao stayed in West City for a day and two nights and left early on New Year’s Eve to return to East City.

When he arrived home, his father Lu Guoming hadn’t returned yet; only Auntie Zhou was there. Lu Yiyao ended up helping her in the kitchen.

Auntie Zhou initially refused, but relented. The two of them chatted and worked together, creating a warm atmosphere.

It was almost 8 p.m. when Lu Guoming finally came home. His greeting to his son was neither warm nor cold.

The dinner was dry, and after staying up until midnight to wish his father a happy new year, Lu Guoming nodded and retired to his room.

Lu Yiyao sighed, resigned. Every year was the same; despite having little to talk about, father and son would stay up to welcome the new year. Only then would New Year’s Eve feel complete.

But looking at the empty house, he wanted to stay longer, at least to bring some life to the place.

Back in his room, Lu Yiyao hesitated whether to send Ran Lin a new year’s message, but while he hesitated, he received one—[Happy New Year.]

Lu Yiyao didn’t know if it was a mass message or individual, but he manually typed a reply—[Happy New Year.]

There was no further reply from the other side.

Lu Yiyao stared at the phone screen, unable to find anything beyond a cordial new year’s wish in the exchange.

Ran Lin had truly turned the page.

As Li Tong said, good girls don’t wait around; hesitation can lead to missed opportunities.

Lu Yiyao could now clearly feel the door of opportunity slowly closing.

He needed time to think clearly, but Ran Lin was under no obligation to wait for him.

Jumping out of bed, Lu Yiyao found Huo Yuntao’s contact and called him.

It took a while to connect, but the voice that answered was lively. “Hello, Lao Lu, how come you’ve decided to give me a midnight new year call? That’s rare.”

It sounded noisy on Huo Yuntao’s side, like he was surrounded by many people. Lu Yiyao realized Huo Yuntao always went home for the new year. But it was only for two or three days, and he was always busy being the distinguished “Young Master Huo”, so Lu Yiyao preferred to visit him in England rather than encroach on his precious family time during the new year.

“Are you at home?” Lu Yiyao still wanted to confirm.

“Of course.” Huo Yuntao seemed to have moved to a quieter room. “If my great-grandmother doesn’t see me, she’d fly to England herself, believe it or not.”

Lu Yiyao believed.

The Huo family was large and had a tradition of longevity. Conservatively estimated, at least thirty family members would gather for the new year, and Huo Yuntao was undoubtedly the jewel of the family.

“Getting sidetracked,” Huo Yuntao cleared his throat, becoming serious. “Happy New Year, Lao Lu.”

“Yeah, Happy New Year.” Lu Yiyao was genuinely grateful to have such a friend. “Lao Huo, I might be gay.”

“……”

“……”

“Is this really the news you want me to process in the first hour of the new year!!!”

……

When Huo Yuntao snuck out to the garage, he bumped right into his cousin, who had just finished setting off fireworks with the kids.

The cousin, an honest and kind man, asked, “Where are you off to?”

Huo Yuntao gestured for silence, whispering, “A friend’s in trouble. I have to go check on him.”

Huo Yuntao’s expression was so sincere that his cousin immediately showed concern. “What happened? Can I help?”

Huo Yuntao shook his head gravely. “It’s an accident, a sudden one. No one can help him. I’m just going to offer some emotional support.”

The cousin, holding his child’s hand, full of righteous kindness, asked, “Lu Yiyao?”

Huo Yuntao, caught off guard, stepped back. “How did you know…”

The cousin adjusted his glasses naturally. “You only have that one friend in China, don’t you?”

Huo Yuntao swallowed, feeling a bittersweet resignation.

Driving his sports car along the deserted second ring, he began to reflect on whether his life was a failure.

While Huo Yuntao slipped out, Lu Yiyao also stealthily drove off.

On New Year’s Eve, not many places were open, so the two arranged to meet at Lu Yiyao’s apartment.

When Huo Yuntao arrived, Lu Yiyao was already waiting. The room was warm, the lighting cozy, and even the lemon soda was ready.

After a long time apart, the two needed no pleasantries. As soon as Huo Yuntao entered, he urged, while changing his shoes, “Hurry up and get to the point. I want to hear all the details. Everything.”

While his words still sparkled with curiosity, Huo Yuntao’s demeanor was devoid of his usual playfulness and as serious as he could be, rivaling Lu Guoming.

Lu Yiyao understood; when it comes to sexual orientation, nothing is trivial. Everything can be joked about, but not this.

Half an hour later.

Lu Yiyao’s soda was half-finished, and Huo Yuntao’s was already empty; one might think the latter was the one recounting the story.

“So that’s it. I’m sure I like him now, so I suspect I’m gay.”

Huo Yuntao, who had hurriedly donned a cashmere sweater in his haste to leave, was now sweating in Lu Yiyao’s warm apartment.

“Find me a T-shirt first.” Huo Yuntao felt he might overheat. No, perhaps he already had.

Lu Yiyao rolled his eyes, waiting for a while only to hear “I need to change,” which was definitely something only a close friend would say.

Their sizes were similar, so Lu Yiyao found a new T-shirt he hadn’t worn yet for Huo Yuntao.

Without any hesitation, Huo Yuntao stripped off his cashmere sweater in front of Lu Yiyao and put on the T-shirt, instantly feeling cooler. His mood seemed to lighten a bit as well.

After downing Lu Yiyao’s soda water in one gulp, Huo Yuntao got straight to the point. “I just have one question for you: Do you want to sleep with him?”

Lu Yiyao froze, his mind instantly flooded with a tumult of censored images.

“Ahem,” Lu Yiyao regained his composure, cleared his throat, and said in a deep voice, “Your question is too crude.”

Huo Yuntao looked at him disdainfully. “Not nearly as crude as what you’re imagining.”

They stared at each other in silence.

After a while.

Lu Yiyao was the first to look away, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

Huo Yuntao held his forehead, resigned to the fact that his friend was beyond saving.

“But why have I never liked men before?” Lu Yiyao pondered, a question that had been bothering him.

At this point, as a friend, Huo Yuntao could only help his friend in his self-exploration. “Have you ever liked any woman before?”

Lu Yiyao frowned, dredging his memory but coming up empty.

“But when you changed clothes in front of me just now, I didn’t feel anything.”

“Thanks for confirming our rock-solid friendship,” Huo Yuntao said irritably. “Just because I like women doesn’t mean I’m attracted to every woman.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent.

Huo Yuntao sighed, suddenly feeling a bit sympathetic.

This was the result he least wanted to see, but it often happens that the more you don’t want something, the more it comes.

“Do you think,” Lu Yiyao suddenly looked up as if he had found the ultimate answer to the universe, “it might be because my dad sent me to an all-boys school?”

Huo Yuntao, also a graduate of an all-boys boarding school, thought, ‘It’s not fair to blame your father for this…’

……

Before the dawn of the new year, the two friends said their reluctant goodbyes.

Actually, apart from the initial struggle with sexual orientation, most of the night was Huo Yuntao listening to Lu Yiyao complain about “how full of pitfalls life’s script can be.”

Fate is an eternal theme of mismatches: you like me, I don’t like you; you don’t like me, I end up liking you. People meet, pass by, get to know each other, and forget each other amidst these crisscrossing paths.

Huo Yuntao understood Lu Yiyao’s frustration—what could have been mutual affection turned into unrequited love.

However, as they parted, as a friend, he still had to remind him one more time. “Whatever decision you make, I support you, but don’t forget, you’re both in the entertainment industry.”

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

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Chapter 51

At the moment of wrap-up, Ran Lin had imagined feeling a variety of emotions—excitement, reflection, exhilaration, reluctance, and more.

But he never anticipated feeling so wistful, as if a part of his soul had been taken away. It was an emptiness he had never experienced before, a feeling he first encountered with <Sword of Fallen Flowers>.

Perhaps it was because this was his first major role, with significant screen time over a long period and deeply immersed, that when Fang Xian ceased to exist in the world, a piece of his heart left with the character.

This mood persisted at the wrap party.

As Chinese New Year approached, the post-production phase of the entire shoot was a race against time. Finally, thanks to the heavy snowfall, they managed to wrap up a day earlier than planned, saving the time and effort it would have taken to create a snowy scene.

For a large-scale production like <Sword of Fallen Flowers> this one-day advance meant saving at least hundreds of thousands in basic expenses, not to mention the costs for actors, locations, and other logistics. Often, film crews don’t just fail to finish early; they delay for various reasons, leading to soaring expenses in venue rentals, actor salaries, and day-to-day costs.

Comparing the two scenarios, the producer, who had been stressed about controlling the budget throughout the shoot, was so moved by the turn of events that they felt like offering incense in gratitude.

In appreciation of the cast and crew’s hard work, the standard wrap party was upgraded to a luxurious feast. Everyone headed straight to the hotel after wrapping up, and before they even warmed their seats, a variety of delicious dishes started flowing in, each one more tempting than the last.

With delicious food set in front of them, who would care about other things? After months of hard work, everyone dived into the feast with the intent to make up for all the hardships, eating and drinking merrily.

Within an hour, everyone loosened up, chatting loudly, urging each other to drink, eating heartily, and taking joyful group photos. It was hard to distinguish between directors, producers, lighting crew, and crew members in the jovial atmosphere.

Ran Lin was happy, but his joy was shadowed by a sense of emptiness, making his happiness seem quiet and subdued. He didn’t share Tang Xiaoyu’s excitement of wanting to drink with everyone; instead, he quietly watched everything, enjoying the moment in his own subdued way.

Thankfully, in the hustle and bustle of the party, no one seemed to notice his mood.

“What are you thinking about?”

Well, except for Lu Yiyao, his tablemate.

The main actors were seated with the producer, director, and scriptwriter, but at that moment, the producer and director were engaged in conversations elsewhere, and the scriptwriter and the third male lead were deeply engrossed in a discussion about poetry and philosophy, completely forgetting the others at the table.

That left the first and second leads, one who didn’t care for the drinking culture and was politely declining drinks, and the other who had finished his social duties and was now leisurely enjoying some more dishes.

Lu Yiyao, after changing out of his costume, was dressed in a high-neck sweater and a wool coat, looking dashing and refined. Now, with the coat off, his demeanor softened. High-neck sweaters aren’t easy to pull off; they can make one look neckless and frumpy. But on Lu Yiyao, it looked perfect, enhancing his polite and dignified demeanor. His hair was casually styled; most of it was swept back with a few strands falling over his forehead, making his attractive eyes even more captivating.

Fortunately, he seemed to have turned off his charm, his gaze clear and calm. Ran Lin was able to respond after a moment’s thought, smiling. “Just thinking that I’ll have to set my alarm later from tomorrow on. Kind of don’t want to.”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, teasingly suggesting, “Well, you wake up in stages anyways. Just set the last alarm.”

Ran Lin playfully retorted. “Then there’s no need to get up at eight if he starts the first phase at four.”

Lu Yiyao laughed, revealing his white teeth. Ran Lin was dazzled by the sight and suddenly asked, “Do you have a toothpaste endorsement?”

Lu Yiyao was stunned, blinking in confusion, and shook his head.

As Ran Lin stuffed a snow cotton red bean pastry into his mouth, he seriously and earnestly suggested, “You should have your agent discuss one for you. Really, it’s a waste not to endorse something with those teeth of yours.”

The friend’s suggestion was sincere and serious, but as he continued eating, puffing his cheeks like a hamster, it lacked any persuasive power.

Lu Yiyao couldn’t help but laugh and feel helpless, casually picking another pastry for him.

Ran Lin, never one to refuse, puffed his cheeks out again, graciously munching away and politely saying, “Don’t just feed me. Have some yourself… It’s really good…”

There were a few dishes on the table that Lu Yiyao hadn’t tried, and this pastry was among them. However, having his appetite piqued, he picked one up and took a bite, only to feel a bit awkward.

The pastry was crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, sweet and rich—the chef’s skills were impeccable. But for him, the dish was just too sweet.

“Is it not good?” Ran Lin immediately understood Lu Yiyao’s expression, somewhat surprised. He chewed a few more times, finding his piece delightful.

“It’s a bit sweet,” Lu Yiyao said tactfully.

“Snow cotton red bean is supposed to be sweet.” Ran Lin, thinking he was criticizing, instinctively defended the chef. “And this red bean paste must be homemade by the hotel, not greasy at all, and not overly sweet…”

“It’s not that.” Lu Yiyao knew there was a misunderstanding and explained, “It’s not the dish’s problem. I’m just not very fond of sweets in general.”

“Oh…” Ran Lin felt a bit embarrassed and fell silent, not wanting to babble any further. After a while, feeling he had to express himself, he still muttered, “Maybe you should eat sweets occasionally. They can make you feel better.”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head to think for a moment, then said seriously, “No worries. I seldom feel down.”

Ran Lin glared at him. “Are you bragging?”

Lu Yiyao laughed and openly admitted, “Probably.”

Ran Lin wanted to kick him. But that was just a thought. Starting tomorrow, it would be difficult even to see him, and he couldn’t bear to part with even a few kicks.

“After the drama, what are your work plans?” Lu Yiyao asked casually.

Ran Lin shook his head. “I don’t know. Xi Jie hasn’t told me yet. I guess there are no arrangements. I’ll go home for the New Year first. What about you?”

“The same, going home first,” Lu Yiyao’s eyes softened. “But I have to start working on the fourth day of the lunar year, flying to Changsha.”

Ran Lin noticed that when Lu Yiyao mentioned home, there were two completely different styles: sometimes tender as water, sometimes with deep bitterness. He was actually very curious, but he always restrained himself from asking. Initially, it was because he felt it was inappropriate to pry into others’ privacy, but now he felt he simply wasn’t in a position to ask.

Lu Yiyao no longer invited him for meals or talked about true friendship. Their interactions in the last week of the drama group were as plain as water.

“Being busy is good,” Ran Lin said politely. “Like me, wanting to be busy but having nothing to do.”

Lu Yiyao said, “Once this drama is aired, you’ll be extremely busy.”

Ran Lin looked up at him. “Really?”

Lu Yiyao nodded. “Yes, you’ll find yourself suddenly overwhelmed with endless invitations, non-stop work, fervent fans, and… a skyrocketing bank balance.”

Ran Lin swallowed, his eyes shimmering with the light of currency. “Actually, you could have just mentioned the last part…”

Lu Yiyao knew he was joking, but he still couldn’t help but ruffle his hair. “Money-grubber.”

It was meant to be a ruffle, but the touch was brief, as Ran Lin dodged it subtly.

Lu Yiyao’s hand paused mid-air, feeling somewhat awkward, then saw Ran Lin shaking his head and humming a tune. “They say money is a bastard~~ but it looks so good~~~”

He hummed just a couple of lines, deliberately off-tune, but the awkwardness suddenly dispersed.

Lu Yiyao withdrew his hand naturally and suddenly remembered a leaked shampoo outtake, so he asked, “Did you study music?”

“No, just a hobby.” Ran Lin smiled at him. “You know, during school days, being able to play and sing adds to the charm.”

Lu Yiyao leaned on his arm and looked at Ran Lin objectively. “You’re naturally good-looking. You don’t need to sing.”

Ran Lin no longer felt joy from compliments and mimicked him, resting his chin on his arm, turning his face to meet Lu Yiyao’s eyes.

“Are you planning to always chat with me forever while holding me in high esteem?” Perhaps the atmosphere was too tranquil and peaceful, or perhaps the few drinks had warmed his head. Ran Lin suddenly felt that it wasn’t a big deal to be open since they understood each other without words, why continue to pretend ignorance?

Lu Yiyao was caught off guard by Ran Lin’s question. Instinctively, he wanted to explain that he wasn’t deliberately flattering him; he was just speaking the truth, but he knew it wasn’t entirely so. Because of his refusal, there was a sense of guilt for hurting someone, which made him restrain impulses that he would have previously teased about.

It turned out he wasn’t the only one who felt it was very dry.

Seeing Lu Yiyao’s hesitating expression, Ran Lin knew he was playing out scenarios in his head again.

Sometimes Ran Lin felt tired for Lu Yiyao, wondering why he had to live so uprightly, as if he were a signboard in the Forbidden City, unable to tolerate a slight misalignment. But what was charming about Lu Yiyao was exactly this.

“Hey.” Ran Lin glanced around, noticing no one paid attention to their table in the bustling environment, then looked at Tang Xiaoyu and Song Mang, who were almost under the table from drinking, and whispered to Lu Yiyao, “Come here.”

Lu Yiyao doubted he heard right.

They were already sitting close, barely an arm’s length apart. In such proximity, how could he “come over” further?

Ran Lin sighed. If the mountain won’t come to him, he’d go to it. He moved his chair closer to Lu Yiyao, leaning in as if they were villains in a TV drama, whispering plots. Lu Yiyao didn’t move away, but facing the second male lead so close, he felt an ominous sense.

Finally, Ran Lin spoke, his voice low but his expression open and honest, contrary to their sneaky “plotting” behavior.

“Do you know what I admire and envy most about you?”

Asking questions was Lu Yiyao’s favorite but most failed tactic.

But with Ran Lin, it flowed smoothly. Lu Yiyao didn’t need to answer; he just needed to listen attentively.

“It’s that no matter what, you can discuss anything openly because you don’t hide any darkness in your heart, so you’re willing to pull others to bask in the sunlight with you.”

Ran Lin spoke frankly, his gaze steady and clear.

Lu Yiyao was stunned.

At that moment, he couldn’t tell if he was facing Ran Lin or Fang Xian; Ran Lin wasn’t this laid-back and suave, and Fang Xian wasn’t this gentle and calm.

“Today, I’ll learn from you,” Ran Lin said. He took a deep breath and looked around like a thief to ensure safety, then turned back to Lu Yiyao, whispering as softly as his breath. “I like you.”

Lu Yiyao’s mind went blank, forgetting to breathe.

Ran Lin exhaled, feeling as if a cool breeze had blown through his heart, refreshing and pleasant.

Speaking the truth wasn’t hard.

If it were someone else, he wouldn’t have said it, but somehow with Lu Yiyao, he felt reassured even after speaking the truth, as if certain Lu Yiyao wouldn’t betray his trust.

Like he once told Xi Ruohan, falling in love with you is a happiness.

“Surprised or not, happy or not?” With a mischievous lift of his eyebrows, Ran Lin murmured with a smile.

Lu Yiyao didn’t know what to say. Facing an unconventional friend was truly exhausting. At this moment, he felt the neatly arranged thoughts in his head had turned into a tangled mess due to a cat’s paw.

Seeing Lu Yiyao’s bewildered look, Ran Lin’s lips curved up, deciding not to tease him anymore. He softened his voice and said, “I know, and you know, so let’s not both gingerly protect that thin layer of paper. It’s tiring for you and for me. But I still need to say sorry for troubling you…”

Lu Yiyao’s heart slowly calmed down. He seemed to know what Ran Lin was about to say, but for some reason, he didn’t really want to hear it.

“I respect you.” Ran Lin suddenly raised a glass of wine, his smile bright. “After this drink, let’s turn a page on all this mess.”

Lu Yiyao touched the bottle of liquor but hesitated to move. Ran Lin thought he still had concerns, so he decisively took his own bottle to pour for him. As he poured, he said, “You don’t need to worry. I’ve truly given up. No, I never really intended anything. Actually, if you hadn’t noticed, this could have just passed without anyone being the wiser. So you need to look inward; being too intuitive isn’t always cute, you know…”

After his rambling, Lu Yiyao’s cup was full. Putting down the bottle, Ran Lin picked up his own cup, staring intently at him. Lu Yiyao felt a moment of daze before realizing he had already raised his cup.

Their glasses clinked, emitting a crisp and pleasant sound. Ran Lin downed his drink in one go, feeling relieved and as if clouds had lifted from his brow.

“Hey,” Ran Lin said, putting down his cup and sensing something amiss. “It’s all been me talking. You should say something at least.”

Coming back to his senses, Lu Yiyao, unsure of what to say, finally strained to offer, “To a friendship that lasts forever.”

Ran Lin watched Lu Yiyao drink, thinking that the man was really unfortunate. A proper star had been dragged onto a bumper car ride by him, bumbling and tumbling around until finally realizing he’s a road hazard but still insisting on continuing as a passenger.

Contemplating breaking up with a straight man to this extent could almost send one to hell, Ran Lin thought. Even if he hadn’t done it, just the thought was enough for Lu Yiyao to have a thousand reasons to break ties with him. Yet, not only did he not do so, but he also went out of his way to care for his feelings and give him a way out. Facing such a Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin couldn’t feign ignorance or wish to see him troubled because of himself.

After tonight, Lu Yiyao wouldn’t need to worry about this trifle anymore, no longer feeling the need to make amends, continuing as the busy star he was, shining in his own world.

Lu Yiyao didn’t like drinking, but he didn’t despise it to the point of being unable to swallow. However, today’s drink was an exception. He finished it in three attempts, thinking the whole time that he wanted to put it down and say, “I’m not drinking this. I need more time to think, and you can’t just decide to turn the page on your own.” 

However, the cup he finally put back on the table was empty.

Ran Lin looked at the empty cup, feeling utterly relieved. The drama wrap was complete, and so was this awkward little issue. Nothing could be more satisfying as a conclusion.

Lu Yiyao watched Ran Lin’s face light up with newfound freedom, watched him pick the last two sweet bean paste buns with his chopsticks, eating heartily and carefree. He inexplicably wanted to pinch those puffed cheeks.

How could it just be over?

How could it end like this?

How could it be that just because you say you like me, then you like me, and when you say you give up, you give up, without even consulting the “victim”?

But then he thought, wasn’t it his wish to “pretend like nothing ever happened”? Now that the outcome wasn’t just in line with but far exceeded his expectations, what was there to be unsatisfied about?

Ding.

The familiar sound of a WeChat notification interrupted Lu Yiyao’s tumultuous thoughts.

It was from Ran Lin’s phone on the table.

Ran Lin stopped eating and picked up his phone with a puzzled look. Within seconds, his face changed from “just escaped from Wuzhishan” to “once again under a tight spell.”

Before Lu Yiyao could ask, Ran Lin looked at him and whispered, “Zhang Beichen.”

Lu Yiyao immediately became alert, forgetting all about likes, dislikes, and turning pages. “He’s looking for you?”

“Or rather, for both of us,” Ran Lin said. “He knows we wrapped up today and asked when we are leaving Hengdian, wondering if we could have a meal together.”

Lu Yiyao’s lips pressed into a line, pondering for a long time before asking, “What do you think?”

“Could it be…” Ran Lin said hopefully, “He wants to come clean with us?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t confirm or deny, simply saying, “Then he’s been dragging this out for quite some time.”

Ran Lin understood Lu Yiyao’s implication. In fact, he didn’t harbor much hope for this dinner with Zhang Beichen, feeling it was more of a probe than a confession. Besides, the return tickets provided by the crew were for early tomorrow morning. They could change them, but it would be a hassle. Moreover, if Zhang Beichen truly intended to confess, whether through a meal, a call, or even a simple WeChat message, it could be done.

Seeing Ran Lin stand up, Lu Yiyao asked in surprise, “Where are you going?”

“To make a call,” Ran Lin said.

“To him?”

“Yeah.”

“What will you say?”

“Depends on what he says.”

“Make the call, but don’t be foolish…”

“Elder Brother,” Ran Lin suddenly used his character’s name for Lu Yiyao. “I’m a thousand times smarter than you, okay?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback, not only by the address but also by the attitude.

Unconsciously smiling, he said, “Go on, Young Master Fang.”

Ran Lin took his phone to a relatively quiet corner, calmed his mind for a moment, then dialed Zhang Beichen’s number.

The other side picked up quickly. “Ran Lin?”

“Yeah,” Ran Lin tried to sound natural. “The wrap party is still going. It’s a bit noisy.”

“No problem,” Zhang Beichen said. “Did you get my message?”

Ran Lin replied, “Got it, but we probably can’t make it. We’re leaving early tomorrow.”

“Oh…” Zhang Beichen sounded slightly downcast.

Ran Lin felt a strange twinge, unclear if it was discomfort or hope.

“Do you have something to say?” he asked. “If there’s something, you can say it over the phone.”

There was silence on the other end.

It might have been a moment or an eternity, Ran Lin waited intently, losing track of time.

Finally, the voice on the other end brightened, as if even the initial downcast tone had disappeared. “Nothing much, just that after spending several months here, it’s a pity we only got together once.”

Ran Lin’s eyes dimmed, and after a long while, he said, “Yeah, it’s a pity.”

They chatted a bit more about inconsequential things, mostly about their experiences filming. Ran Lin inexplicably didn’t want to continue the conversation and ended the call hastily.

Turning around, he found Lu Yiyao had come up behind him at some point.

“What did he say?” Lu Yiyao asked.

Ran Lin sighed, forcing a smile.

Lu Yiyao understood and shrugged. “As expected, don’t worry too much.”

Ran Lin shook his head, sincerely saying, “It’s fine.”

It was really okay.

Some time had passed, and the busy work had already diluted the discomfort. The only reason for making the call was holding onto that last bit of hope.

Perhaps Zhang Beichen wasn’t the mastermind in this matter. To assume more extremely, he might not have even been aware at the beginning. But once the situation erupted, even he could suspect Zhang Beichen, so he didn’t believe Zhang Beichen himself wouldn’t have doubts. And an agent would almost never do anything without informing their artist; even if they did, they would need to face the questioning later. Otherwise, the artist would explode, potentially causing irrational actions that would lead to mutual destruction, a loss for both sides.

Therefore, Zhang Beichen might be the planner, or at least aware, but definitely not innocent.

Just like he himself once tacitly allowed his team to hype things up.

Zhang Beichen’s WeChat message interrupted the previous conversation, making it impossible to continue. Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin, who had returned to their seats, somehow started talking about the arduous journey in the entertainment industry. It was probably Ran Lin who started the conversation, intending to say that from another perspective, he could understand Zhang Beichen. It’s not easy to make a name in this circle, and even harder to maintain it, so any minor issue would cause significant tension, sometimes leading them to extremes.

But as the conversation continued, he began to share their own hard-fought histories, how he became popular from a photo, signing with an agency, and the minor roles he played after debuting. It was almost like a personal autobiography.

Feeling like he was veering into self-pity, Ran Lin stopped and said to Li Yiyao, “Don’t just listen to me. Talk about yourself.”

Lu Yiyao had never revealed his debut story to any colleague, not even to Yao Hong. Initially, she knew a little, under the company’s instructions, but her knowledge was more speculation than solid fact.

He had often thought that perhaps one day in the future, he would make a close friend within the circle, and they would chat about their pasts in an idyllic setting.

The reality was far from this ideal. There was no cool breeze, only air conditioning; no moonlight, just electric lights; no sound of waves, only the noisy clinking of glasses and a mess of dishes and cups, with two drunken colleagues sleeping across the table.

But he spoke anyway, earnestly and in detail, afraid of deviating even slightly from the truth.

“I went to England for high school, and by my sophomore year, it had been eight years. People talk about the seven-year itch, but I hit my breaking point in the eighth year and was determined to return home. I was studying drama, and a friend whose family was involved in the entertainment industry introduced me to Pentium Times. My first role was the third male lead, then the second male lead, and then the lead…”

Realizing how bland his story seemed, Lu Yiyao couldn’t continue and sincerely looked at Ran Lin, concluding, “That’s it.”

Ran Lin felt deep envy and frustration. “That’s it? What more could you want…”

Even the so-called anti-Japanese dramas wouldn’t allow such a flawless protagonist!

After the banter, Ran Lin remembered something and asked, “Don’t you regret not finishing college?”

“If a journalist asked, I would say I do,” Lu Yiyao replied.

“What about when I ask?” Ran Lin inquired.

Lu Yiyao’s eyes softened, like petals in the breeze. “If you’re asking, then the honest truth is, it’s okay.”

Previously, Ran Lin dreaded Lu Yiyao’s smile, as it would make his heart race. But now, he felt an odd calm, simply finding the man good looking—a pure appreciation of his looks. With a smile, all other sounds seemed to vanish, leaving only a gentle breeze and the faint scent of flowers and grass.

“Does your family not mind?”

“They’ve wanted me to go to business school from the beginning; I chose drama just to rebel.”

“So your choice wasn’t because you like acting?”

“Not really. It’s more like a slight interest.”

“……”

“What’s that look for?”

“I feel like representing all the people who love acting but never had the chance and want to throw a cake at you.”

“Why a cake?”

“Because you don’t like sweets.”

“……”

Only Ran Lin could “attack” someone so gently. Lu Yiyao, almost as if possessed, took another bite of the sweet bean paste bun. It was a bit cold now, making it taste sweeter, but somehow… it wasn’t too bad.

Ran Lin really wanted to ask why Lu Yiyao so casually chose such a significant life decision as his major just to oppose his family. But then he thought about how he studied Spanish and how it hadn’t really affected his life significantly.

Besides, he always felt Lu Yiyao was reluctant to discuss his family, so it might be safer to continue envying the seemingly effortless career of this male god…

“Keep it a secret.”

While he was lost in thought, Lu Yiyao’s request came to his ears.

Ran Lin didn’t react for a while and asked, “Keep what secret?”

Lu Yiyao looked around cautiously, confirming it was safe, then whispered, “I’m a connection-based hire.”

Ran Lin 囧*: “Even for later roles?”

*Clarity: While the character means something along the lines of oops, in this context, it’s mainly how it looks (a shocked face).

Lu Yiyao replied, “Not for those. After the third male lead role, I gained some popularity and never lacked opportunities.”

Ran Lin looked at him in despair. “If I didn’t know you well and understand you’re just stating facts, I’d really be angry.”

Lu Yiyao laughed at this but then became serious again, sighing softly. “My dad always said that too much smooth sailing isn’t a good thing. If life is too smooth, there will definitely be hurdles ahead.”

Ran Lin suddenly remembered his own father saying something similar, though it seemed to differ from Lu Yiyao’s more philosophical father…

“I remember now.” Ran Lin tapped the table lightly. “My dad said, ‘When you encounter smooth sailing, it’ll continue smoothly.'”

Lu Yiyao couldn’t help but smile. “So whose advice should we follow?”

After thinking seriously for a moment, Ran Lin offered a solution. “Listen to both and combine them.”

“Did your dad ever say what to do when facing difficulties?” Lu Yiyao suddenly asked.

Ran Lin was surprised because his father indeed had advice. “If it’s too hard, just quit and come back to run the bun shop.”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback. “Your family is in the catering business?”

Ran Lin, slightly embarrassed, coughed lightly. “Not so glamorous, just a bun shop. It’s small, but my mom’s fillings are unmatched, and my dad’s kneading skills are exceptional…”

Lu Yiyao was enticed by the talk of food, but still asked with a scientific spirit, “How do you define dough with excellent ‘texture and strength’?”

Ran Lin thought about it and gave up. “That’s what my dad says. You’ll have to ask him.”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Of course, Lu Yiyao wasn’t going to ask Ran Lin’s father for clarification; in fact, he didn’t even know why they were discussing such topics. But he found himself enjoying the conversation, even wishing that the wrap party would never end.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. At midnight, the wrap party finally concluded. Tang Xiaoyu and Song Mang were both dragged back to their hotel, fortunately before they got too drunk. The third male lead had the foresight to take a photo with the first and second male leads and promptly sent it to Ran Lin and Lu Yiyao after it was taken.

In the car back to the hotel, Ran Lin posted a Weibo about the wrap party of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> along with a collage of nine pictures, including the group photo of the entire crew, a photo of the three of them, and photos with the director, scriptwriter, other actors, and crew members.

The moment the Weibo was posted, all the memories of the past few months flashed before his eyes, as if sending off the memories to be archived once the post was published.

Liu Wanwan sensed Ran Lin’s melancholy and asked, “Ran Ge, are you a bit reluctant to let go?”

Ran Lin shook his head, put down his phone, and said word by word to his assistant, “Beautiful memories are meant to inspire us to keep moving forward.”

Liu Wanwan quietly watched him for a few seconds and asked, “Brother, do you have a burner Weibo account where you repost motivational quotes* every day?”

*Chicken soup. Refers to things, normally writings or articles, which affect motivation and make you feel good reading it, just like how chicken soup will warm your soul.

Ran Lin laughed, suddenly remembering something, and patted his assistant’s shoulder. “Wanwan, I did something really cool today.”

Liu Wanwan perked up. “What did you do?”

Ran Lin shook his head. “Can’t say.”

Liu Wanwan, frustrated but still hopeful, asked, “Can you at least say how cool it was?”

Ran Lin grinned, showing off a set of teeth as white as Lu Yiyao’s. “So cool that I was 2.8 meters tall today.”

In the end, Liu Wanwan had no idea what heroic feat her boss had accomplished. But she could clearly sense that the Ran Lin who finished this drama was different from a few months ago. It wasn’t specific changes, but occasionally, in his smile or the look in his eyes, he seemed less cautious and more boldly expressive, almost like… Fang Xian?

Perhaps it was telepathy, but on the way back, Lu Yiyao also posted a Weibo about the wrap, and after posting, he immediately went back to the homepage and saw Ran Lin’s post.

Without hesitation, he liked it and left a comment, then switched to WeChat, thinking of asking if Ran Lin had made it back to the hotel.

He typed halfway before realizing that it might not be necessary. Ran Lin would definitely have returned to the hotel; it’s only a few minutes’ drive, and it’s unlikely something happened. So this question seemed more like an excuse to talk.

The troubling part was, he really wanted an excuse to talk.

But he couldn’t. Not only had Ran Lin said they had turned the page, but even if Ran Lin hadn’t made things clear today, he had decided not to stir things up further. Although he didn’t consider it flirting, he wondered why he didn’t ask Tang Xiaoyu, Song Mang, or Chen Qizheng, and instead specifically wanted to ask Ran Lin.

“Lu Ge, are you okay?” Li Tong didn’t want to interrupt but seeing Lu Yiyao frowning and muttering under his breath without clarity, he couldn’t help but express concern.

“Li Tong…”

“Yes, Lu Ge, go ahead.”

“……”

Good, the assistant can now cue himself for the process.

With no Yao Hong around, only he and Li Tong were in the car, making it easier to ask—

“If a girl likes you, but you don’t like her back, what would you do?”

“Chase her like crazy,” Li Tong replied without hesitation. “Happiness is something you have to fight for. If you give up after being rejected…”

“Wait,” Lu Yiyao interrupted his assistant’s impassioned speech, unsure if he had misunderstood. “I mean, it’s not you who likes the girl. It’s the girl who likes you.”

Li Tong was stunned. “How could that happen?”

“It does,” Lu Yiyao said, feeling a pang of sadness, and patted his assistant’s shoulder, repeating the question. “If a girl likes you, but you don’t like her, what would you do?”

Li Tong thought for a moment and seriously replied, “It depends on whether she has confessed to me or not.”

The discussion was finally on the right track, and Lu Yiyao sat up straight. “What if she hasn’t confessed? And what if she has?”

Li Tong: “If she hasn’t confessed, I’d hint at her to confess. If she does, I’d try dating her. If she’s too shy to confess, we men can also take the initiative!”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Li Tong: “Lu Ge?”

Lu Yiyao: “No, it’s fine. You have a clear thought process.”

Leaning back into his seat, Lu Yiyao mentally hit himself with a cake a hundred times for the question he asked three minutes ago.

“Lu Ge.” Li Tong suddenly turned completely around, kneeling on the seat, leaning over the back to face Lu Yiyao directly. “Is it someone from the industry?”

Lu Yiyao didn’t understand. “What industry?”

Li Tong said, “The millions of followers V. Is she the one chasing you?”

Lu Yiyao: “……”

Seeing his boss’s expression, Li Tong knew the answer. Sighing, he felt like his sympathies were aligning with Yao Hong’s, deeply worried for Lu Yiyao. “Lu Ge, next time you ask me something, don’t let me be myself. Let me be you, then I’ll know how to think about it.”

Lu Yiyao looked at him, unwilling to trust easily.

Li Tong continued regardless, “If I were you and the girl who likes me is a colleague, then I would need to be very careful. Since you don’t like her, don’t even touch it because there will be 100% rumors. If it were a real relationship, it might be worth it, but if you don’t like her and still get caught up in rumors, then it’s unnecessary.”

“What if I’ve already rejected her?”

“Did she confess?”

“Sort of.”

“Then it’s even more awkward; you can only try to avoid her as much as possible.”

“Do I have to avoid her?”

“Not necessarily.” Li Tong rested his chin on the backrest. “But if you’ve already rejected her and still linger around her. What if she keeps hoping there’s a chance with you?”

Lu Yiyao frowned. “Does that mean we can’t work together anymore? Avoid her at press conferences, filming, interviews, parties, and celebrity gatherings?”

“If it’s for work, then there’s no helping it, but…” Li Tong leaned closer to Lu Yiyao. “Lu Ge, do you actually want to avoid her or not?”

Lu Yiyao avoided his assistant’s probing, seemingly calm as he looked out the window but actually not focusing on anything. “I just feel like, now that everything’s out in the open, there’s no need to avoid her deliberately, right?”

Li Tong looked at his boss’s profile and mustered up the courage to ask, “Lu Ge, don’t be mad at me for being nosy, but is she chasing you, or are you chasing her?”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback, asking instinctively, “Why would you have that doubt?”

Li Tong felt his suspicion was very normal. “Because you look more like the one who was rejected.”

Lu Yiyao’s gaze finally focused on the car window, ignoring the fleeting darkness outside. The reflection showed a face marred by worry.

It certainly didn’t look like the face of someone being pursued.

“Li Tong.” Lu Yiyao withdrew his gaze and looked at his assistant with a sigh. “It’s too hard to be a good person.”

Li Tong shrugged. “Then be a bad person.”

Lu Yiyao was confused. “Huh?”

“No,” Li Tong clarified. “I mean, just be yourself. Celebrities should date if they want to, but of course, you should first inform Hong Jie, and public relations need to keep up. Otherwise, fans will definitely react…”

“There’s no need to think so far ahead,” Lu Yiyao said, frustrated, interrupting his assistant’s planning. “I need to find myself first.”

Li Tong didn’t quite understand. Finding oneself seemed too profound for him.

Lu Yiyao picked up his phone again and finished the message he had interrupted before—[Have you reached the hotel?]

Even as his own car arrived at the hotel, Ran Lin hadn’t responded.

Lu Yiyao was in a subdued mood all the way to his room.

He took a subdued shower, went to bed subdued, and even his dreams were heavy.

In the dream, Li Tong immediately guessed, “It’s Ran Lin, right? You’re chasing Ran Lin!”

He explained in Chinese, English, and some other unknown language countless times to Li Tong that it wasn’t him chasing Ran Lin but Ran Lin chasing him. But his assistant kept covering his ears, chanting, “I’m not listening. I’m not listening,” and even started singing—

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

He only knew it was Ran Lin’s ringtone, but it was during the wrap party while listening to Ran Lin’s struggle story that he learned it was his first single after debuting.

Li Tong sang so terribly that he woke up before the song even finished. It was only 4 a.m., which had recently become his usual wake-up time.

Reluctantly, Lu Yiyao got up to freshen up and began packing his luggage while listening to the morning news.

Li Tong would come later to help him, but he preferred doing what he could on his own. Besides, there wasn’t much else to do at this time.

The pervasive sense of gloom from last night continued into his dreams and lingered until the morning. Even when the first rays of sunlight entered through the window, the first thing Lu Yiyao noticed was the dust floating in the light.

Then there was a knock at the door. It was Li Tong. And his phone rang, it was Ran Lin.

Lu Yiyao checked his phone first while still crouching.

[Sorry, I went to sleep as soon as I got back yesterday and didn’t check my phone. Is something up?]

[No, just checking if you made it.]

[It’s just a two-step distance, and we took a car. Are you too distrustful of our harmonious society? 😂]

Lu Yiyao, looking at that laughing-crying emoji, felt his heart suddenly clear and sunny.

Li Tong, not receiving any response for a long time, was about to call when the door opened. His boss, with dark circles under his eyes, was all smiles.

Then he heard Lu Yiyao declare, “I’ve found myself.”

Li Tong swallowed hard and asked, “Do we need to inform Hong Jie first? You’re dating now, the public relations…”

“No need to inform her. This matter can’t be PR’d.” Lu Yiyao pulled his assistant in and shut the door firmly.

Li Tong stood at the entrance, not wanting to venture further, fearing being pulled into some dark organization.

Lu Yiyao didn’t push him and just stood at the entrance, almost in a “wall slam” pose. “So, you have to help me keep this a secret. You can’t tell Hong Jie, and certainly can’t tell anyone else.”

Li Tong had never felt such an important duty before, his blood boiling. “Lu Ge, trust me, even if it rots in my stomach, I won’t utter a word.”

Lu Yiyao looked at him for a long time, nodded approvingly, then turned back to his room to continue humming a tune while packing his luggage.

Li Tong hurriedly followed. “Lu Ge, who is it?”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t say.”

Li Tong: “Is it an internet celebrity or an actor?”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t say.”

Li Tong: “Where are they from?”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t say.”

Li Tong: “What song are you humming?”

Lu Yiyao: “Can’t say.”

Li Tong: “……”

As if sensing his inner turmoil, Lu Yiyao stopped his tune and looked up. His usual smile was gone, replaced by a rare hesitation. “This is complicated and involves a lot. It has to be handled carefully.”

Li Tong: “Didn’t you say she likes you?”

Lu Yiyao shook his head gently. “You don’t understand.”

Li Tong: “……”

How could he not understand? He knew the question from last night was a facade, about being pursued by a girl and not liking her back. Clearly, his boss was longing for something unattainable!

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Yes! Finally! Go get him son!

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 50

After finishing the call with Huo Yuntao, it was already past 1 a.m. With a heavy day of filming ahead, Lu Yiyao knew he should go to sleep immediately; otherwise, he wouldn’t even enjoy the three or four hours of sleep left.

But he wasn’t sleepy.

He was more awake than ever before, with various thoughts tumbling in his head, interspersed with replayed snippets of Huo Yuntao’s advice. It was all so muddled that he couldn’t distinguish what were his thoughts and what were Huo Yuntao’s anymore.

Since you don’t want to develop feelings for him, does it matter whether he likes you or not?

It didn’t matter. But he just wanted to know.

And what difference would it make knowing?

Not wanting to accept someone’s feelings, not wanting to hurt them, yet hoping they behave as they always did—it’s simply…

“Beast!”

Lu Yiyao buried his face in the pillow, feeling self-loathing for the first time.

In the English countryside villa under the winter sky, Huo Yuntao carefully assembled the baked gingerbread into a house, ending with tears streaming down his face at his creation.

The finished product barely resembled the original sweet Christmas gingerbread house concept. The walls were crooked, the roof askew, and most importantly, the gingerbread was overbaked. The intended warm brown biscuits were tinged with patches of black, making the whole piece seem more suitable for Halloween than Christmas.

He sighed, took down a wall, and started crunching it.

Chewing helps with thinking.

He hadn’t had to use his brain this much in a long time.

Despite the solid advice he gave Lu Yiyao, he was merely theorizing from the sidelines. After all, during his early dating days, he was naive enough to believe that boys and girls could make babies by lying together. So, Lu Yiyao’s so-called doubts and hesitations—he could understand but couldn’t truly empathize.

Liking someone means wanting to talk to them, be close to them, or simply feeling happy just seeing them. How hard can it be to figure that out?

If Ran Lin were a girl, Huo Yuntao could have directly thrown this reasoning at Lu Yiyao. No, if that were the case, Lu Yiyao probably wouldn’t have called him, being clear about his feelings.

The problem is Ran Lin is a man.

When Huo Yuntao first received the call from his old friend, he didn’t think much of it, just helping a friend fend off an unwanted suitor. But this time he realized Lu Yiyao’s concern for this matter, or rather for that person, far exceeded his imagination.

Over a decade of friendship, and he’d never seen Lu Yiyao so fixated on anyone, regardless of gender.

Liking and loving might be hard to distinguish, but caring is definite.

Could Lu Yiyao possibly be gay?

That’s something Huo Yuntao had never even considered.

Having studied in England for so many years, it’s not unusual to be swayed by the culture, but Lu Yiyao never showed the slightest inclination in that direction.

Clearly, Lu Yiyao thought the same, hence his assertive denial every time the topic arose.

With this in mind, Huo Yuntao knew he couldn’t be the one to push the wave and add to the billow.

Sexual orientation is no small matter. Whether one likes men or women can profoundly impact or even change one’s path in life. Lu Yiyao might be standing at a crossroads—a slight push could lead him left, a gentle pull right. Huo Yuntao could fully support whatever choice his friend made, but he couldn’t let his preferences influence or interfere.

Personally, he hoped Lu Yiyao would remain the same straightforward person, bright future and all. Because if Lu Yiyao chose the left path, it would mean tackling a very tough road, at best sacrificing his career and popularity, and at worst ruining the already unstable family relationships.

But as a friend, if Lu Yiyao indeed chose the hard mode, Huo Yuntao would have to pick up an ax and accompany his friend on the journey. What had he done in his past life to deserve this!

Having one true friend is enough.

Any more, and you really might worry yourself to death.

……

Lu Yiyao thought all night, staying awake until dawn.

As the eastern sky turned white, he made a decision—to be a good person.

What does it mean to be a good person?

It means being kind, understanding, restraining oneself, being like the Disney character who quietly accompanies Ran Lin “preparing” for the scene.

Hoping someone continues being an intimate friend without reciprocating their feelings is like wanting the impossible. Not acting on whims, restraining the so-called “pure friendship”, is the greatest consideration and respect for the other person.

Regarding whether to wear the same clothes or strip someone’s clothes off, Huo Yuntao’s crass words had some truth.

Once one side falls in love, friendship is no longer possible.

He accepted that.

But if possible, he wished he could go back to the moment Ran Lin’s heart was stirred and strangled whatever he was doing but definitely shouldn’t have been doing in the flowing time.

……

“Cut! That’s a wrap—”

As the director’s voice echoed through the loudspeaker, everyone on the set applauded.

Beautiful flowers were presented. Zhao Buyao, who had just been “arguing” with Tang Jingyu, was beaming—Xi Ruohan’s scenes were wrapped.

This was the predetermined schedule, starting a week late and ending a week early.

“Thank you for your hard work.” Director Chen stood up and went to the set as usual to give affirmation and encouragement to the actor finishing their shoot.

“I really want to say it wasn’t hard, but Director Chen…” Xi Ruohan’s pretty face crumpled with a mix of mischief, sincerity, and a hint of teasing. “In these four and a half months in your crew, I lost over ten pounds.”

Chen Qizheng tilted his head to observe for a moment, jokingly retorting, “Doesn’t seem very obvious…”

Xi Ruohan: “Any thinner and I’d look unrecognizable.” She finally turned serious, paused, and sincerely said, “Thank you, Director.”

A drama can stagnate an actor or push them to break through and be reborn. Only the actors themselves understand the taste and gain.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu were sitting in the rest area outside the “Liuhua Palace”, as their scenes were scheduled for later. They could only watch Xi Ruohan and the director talk through the open doorway, unable to hear the conversation but noticing that Xi Ruohan was more docile than ever before, the director was unusually amiable, and Lu Yiyao, as always, was gentle.

“Her scenes are wrapped, huh? That must feel good,” Tang Xiaoyu said enviously.

Ran Lin comforted him. “We’ll be done soon too.”

“Thank goodness this series is only forty episodes.” Tang Xiaoyu sighed deeply, filled with emotion, “Otherwise, with such high standards and strict demands, even the martial alliance leader couldn’t last for sixty episodes.”

Ran Lin chuckled, about to join in, but Tang Xiaoyu suddenly changed the topic in a lower voice. “Have you noticed that Xi Ruohan seems a bit different from when she first joined?”

Ran Lin glanced at the leading actress again and nodded. “Yeah, she’s definitely lost a lot of weight.”

Tang Xiaoyu clarified with frustration. “I’m not talking about her figure, but her personality, personality!”

Ran Lin, momentarily confused, was about to apologize to his own orientation when Tang Xiaoyu didn’t notice and continued, “When she first came, her nose was almost in the air, and I was invisible to her…”

Before he could finish, he stopped abruptly as Xi Ruohan, who had finished saying her goodbyes to the director and crew, came out.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu immediately stood up and congratulated the lead actress on finishing her scenes.

Xi Ruohan responded formally and politely.

Just when they thought everything was smooth and it was time for goodbyes, Xi Ruohan suddenly threw out, “I hope we have the chance to work together again,” and then ran off without looking back.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu were left looking at each other in bewilderment.

After a moment, Ran Lin burst into laughter.

Tang Xiaoyu, catching on, said with a dejected face, “That’s not hope, that’s a curse… When a lady becomes gentle, she’s still a lady—one of the most difficult types of women for me in this lifetime. Even as just a partner, of course, I’d prefer the gentle ones!”

After the tumultuous Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao’s scenes at the Liuhua Palace, it was time for the deep-in-enemy-lines scenes of Fang Xian and Xu Chongfei.

By this time, Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu were at odds, and Xu Chongfei, having rescued Tang Jingyu from the Fang Clan, discovered the mastermind behind the shadows was Abbot Haikong.

It was indeed Fang Huanzhi who orchestrated the bloodbath of the opposing sects, but the one who used Fang Huanzhi’s plot to eliminate the sects and then used Tang Jingyu to eliminate Fang Huanzhi was the Liuhua Palace. They desired the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual and aimed to dominate the martial world.

Zhao Buyao, as the daughter of the Liuhua Palace’s leader, naturally disbelieved this and had a fierce argument with Tang Jingyu. In a fit of anger, Zhao Buyao stormed off and disappeared. Tang Jingyu, determined to uncover the truth, sneaks into the Liuhua Palace only to be captured, his fate uncertain.

Xu Chongfei, helplessly, seeks Fang Xian’s help to rescue his elder brother together.

Then, surprisingly, Fang Xian agreed.

“I’ve always felt there’s a plot hole here…” As the setup for the next scene was somewhat complicated, the director’s assistant hadn’t come to notify them to start filming yet, so Tang Xiaoyu casually discussed the upcoming plot with Ran Lin. “If Fang Xian wants to kill Tang Jingyu to avenge his father, why would he agree to rescue him with Xu Chongfei?”

Before Ran Lin could answer, a puzzled voice suddenly spoke up from not far away. “I also think this is a problem that needs to be studied.”

Lu Yiyao, unnoticed until now, stood at the doorway, smiling as he watched them.

Ran Lin’s heart fluttered slightly but didn’t show it on his face.

Tang Xiaoyu spoke first. “Right? It’s just so weird.”

Lu Yiyao nodded and then turned naturally to Ran Lin, asking, “What do you think?”

Ran Lin frowned slightly, feeling today’s Lu Yiyao was different; the pressing intensity from before seemed to have disappeared, and he was back to being the polite Teacher Lu.

It was a bit disappointing, but mostly comforting.

Ran Lin took a deep breath and then patted the empty chair beside him, motioning for Lu Yiyao to come over. “Come, sit here, and let Fang Xian analyze for you the heart-wrenching journey.”

Lu Yiyao smiled and complied, taking the seat.

Tang Xiaoyu grumbled, “Hurry up, Second Brother.”

Seemingly joking, but when he started speaking, Ran Lin became serious. “Fang Xian’s attitude towards Tang Jingyu can be summed up like so: ‘I must kill you, but I can’t let others kill you.'”

Tang Xiaoyu was puzzled. “I can’t understand this mindset…”

Ran Lin looked at Lu Yiyao. “What about you?”

Lu Yiyao thought for a moment and said, “I can somewhat understand, but certainly not as deeply as you.”

Ran Lin felt a bit flattered by his response.

Suddenly he thought that if Lu Yiyao couldn’t reciprocate his feelings, occasionally praising him like this wasn’t bad either.

“In fact, it’s quite simple.” Ran Lin began his explanation. “Fang Xian wants to kill Tang Jingyu because he must avenge his father, but he can’t let others kill Tang Jingyu because Tang Jingyu is his brother.”

Tang Xiaoyu interjected, “But they’ve already broken their brotherhood oath, right?”

Ran Lin sighed, pointing to his heart. “The oath may be broken, but this can’t just change on a whim.”

After saying this, Ran Lin realized how familiar this gesture was and suddenly remembered the time he and Lu Yiyao had dinner alone, discussing how to be friends. Lu Yiyao had pointed to his heart and said the ultimate reason lay there…

Feeling a bit awkward, Ran Lin instinctively looked at Lu Yiyao.

Their eyes met, and Lu Yiyao naturally said, “I agree with you. No matter how harsh or decisive Fang Xian’s words are, his brotherly bond with Tang Jingyu of over a decade can’t just be broken like that.”

Ran Lin finally realized what was different today. “Why have you been praising me all day…”

Lu Yiyao feigned innocence. “Have I?”

“Yes,” Tang Xiaoyu quickly agreed, providing objective third-party evidence. “Although you and Second Brother always had a good relationship, you liked to tease him when chatting. Today there wasn’t a single tease—all praises—very suspicious.”

Lu Yiyao hadn’t expected his behavior to be so obvious.

He had just reassessed his attitude, feeling like he might have been too casual before and also somewhat remorseful for not being able to reciprocate Ran Lin’s feelings. So, combining these factors, he ended up acting the way he did now.

Well, not only did Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu find it strange, but he also felt a bit awkward.

“You…” Ran Lin leaned in to scrutinize him and asked earnestly, “Are you trying to ask me for a favor?”

Lu Yiyao, not feigning anymore and slightly annoyed, replied, “Yes, I hope in tomorrow’s forest battle scene, you can go easy on me.”

Ran Lin sadly discovered his own masochistic tendency; he enjoyed it when the conversation wasn’t flattering and preferred seeing Lu Yiyao roll his eyes at him.

“Brother, are you stealing my lines?” Tang Xiaoyu finally relaxed; this was the normal atmosphere among the three brothers. “Aren’t I the one who’s supposed to be sacrificed tomorrow?”

Lu Yiyao laughed at the joke and was about to respond when the director’s assistant came over to announce that they were ready to start shooting.

The three of them, refreshed, headed for the “Liuhua Palace”.

The entire day’s filming went very smoothly, wrapping up successfully at 10:30 p.m.

This was the most relaxed day Ran Lin had experienced in a while—mentally, at least. Lu Yiyao seemed to have suddenly forgotten about their failed dinner plans, discussing nothing but the script and acting during breaks. After removing makeup, he headed back to the hotel, never mentioning anything else.

Ran Lin didn’t know what had happened, or perhaps nothing had happened at all, and Lu Yiyao simply got tired of insisting and gave up.

It wasn’t possible to be lovers or best friends; stopping at ordinary friends was the most appropriate.

This was the outcome Ran Lin had foreseen, so he accepted it calmly, like still water.

Although the wind was comfortable, it didn’t belong to him and would always blow elsewhere.

That night, back at the hotel, Ran Lin asked Liu Wanwan to bring back a small cake. He closed the door and ate it piece by piece, marking the end of this period of unrequited love—if it could be called that.

After all, to feel sweet inside, one doesn’t necessarily need to pretend to have someone; eating cake is quite nice.

……

The next day, at the Dongyang Forest in Hengdian.

Here, the three brothers, Tang, Fang, and Xu, would engage in a life-and-death battle.

This was a critical scene, second only to the dramatic split between Fang and Tang. Though not as large in scale, it was equally important in terms of plot significance and emotional conflict.

With Writer Song Mang, once again present—dressed in a shiny silver down jacket and accompanying the crew to the small forest—the significance of the scene was evident.

The temperature in Hengdian had dropped sharply in the past two days, nearing freezing, necessitating heavier clothing.

But the actors had it harder.

The three men, about to engage in a fierce battle, sat together, wrapped in heavy coats, facing a box of ice cream and ice cubes, looking utterly despairing.

Ran Lin: “I haven’t even started eating, and my teeth already hurt.”

Lu Yiyao: “Great responsibilities lie ahead for those who eat ice…”

Tang Xiaoyu: “Really, can’t we negotiate with the writer to change it to a winter blood battle?”

All three handsome faces turned to look at Song Mang, not far behind the monitor.

As if sensing their gaze, the writer looked up and back at them.

The three sighed and braced themselves, tossing aside their coats to start eating.

Ran Lin and Tang Xiaoyu chose ice cream for its flavor.

Lu Yiyao went for the ice cubes, crunching away.

The script set the three men’s decisive battle in the height of summer, but now they were shooting in winter. To prevent the actors’ breath from showing and causing inconsistencies, they had to cool their mouths like this.

The director, feeling pity for them, announced the start of filming as soon as they were almost done eating.

As if understanding the day’s dramatic need, the sky was overcast and gloomy, with thick clouds hanging low. The weather couldn’t be worse.

Fortunately, the location was a densely wooded area that obscured the winter desolation, giving a semblance of summer lushness. Even if there were sunlight, it would be blocked by the forest canopy, with all lighting dependent on the crew’s equipment, so the actual weather didn’t matter.

With a click from the clapperboard, everything else faded away except for the rustling leaves.

Ran Lin, portraying Fang Xian, wore a dark, streamlined outfit that made him look less like a noble son and more like a bounty hunter or assassin. The wind lifted his hair, leaving only a stern and solemn aura, devoid of any frivolous elegance.

Not far off was Lu Yiyao’s character, Tang Jingyu, whose clothes, having been trapped in Liuhua Palace, were tattered and torn, and his face bore wounds. Yet, his gaze remained calm, firmly fixed on Fang Xian.

Standing between the two was Xu Chongfei, clad in a pale moonlight white outfit.

Tang Xiaoyu, deviating from his usual playful demeanor, appeared with furrowed brows and a stern countenance, his usual grace now eclipsed by the looming conflict between his brothers.

“Xu Chongfei, step aside!” Fang Xian suddenly bellowed with force.

“How can I just step aside?” Xu Chongfei roared back, almost bellowing. “To step aside and watch my two best brothers tear each other apart?”

Fang Xian retorted, “If you don’t step aside, then I can’t be brothers with you!”

Xu Chongfei exclaimed in desperation, “Ran Lin, have you gone mad—”

Ran Lin: “……”

The entire crew: “……”

Director Chen: “Cut!”

Tang Xiaoyu’s face was filled with regret as he wished he could bite off his tongue for his slip.

He half-expected Ran Lin to laugh at him, but upon glancing over, he found Ran Lin still glaring furiously at him, his chest heaving with intense emotion.

Tang Xiaoyu suddenly felt the urge to joke fade away.

Turning to Lu Yiyao, who, although not as deeply immersed as Ran Lin, still had a serious, thoughtful expression, not even shifting his position.

Ice cream was passed around, and Tang Xiaoyu grabbed it and devoured several bites, numbing his entire mouth before handing the rest back.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin did the same, cooling down their mouths.

As the clapperboard snapped again, Tang Xiaoyu suddenly felt an eerie silence, as if even the wind had stopped blowing. The atmosphere was tense, filled only with Ran Lin’s… no, only Fang Xian’s furious roars, which echoed painfully in everyone’s ears and hearts.

He shouted, “Xu Chongfei, step aside!”

For the first time, Tang Xiaoyu felt as if another soul had entered his body. He didn’t need to deliberate on how to respond or how to act; he simply had to entrust his body to… Xu Chongfei.

“How can I just step aside! To step aside and watch my two best brothers tear each other apart—”

Fang Xian stared at him with eyes red from excitement and other unspeakable reasons, warning, “If you don’t step aside, then I can’t be brothers with you!”

Xu Chongfei was in complete disarray, unsure how to untangle the emotional knots between them. He knew he couldn’t move; one wrong move and all would be lost!

“Why would you save him from Liuhua Palace if you intend to kill him?” Xu Chongfei’s voice was hoarse and strained from shouting, a bitter sorrow in his tone.

Fang Xian gritted his teeth, not really answering Xu Chongfei, but rather convincing himself. “I saved him because I want to be the one to kill him!”

“Then you’ll have to step over my dead body!”

“Don’t force me!”

“It’s you who’s forcing me!!!”

“Chongfei…” Tang Jingyu, who had been silent all this time, suddenly spoke up. His voice was low, laden with suppressed emotions, and yet indifferent. “Step aside.”

“Elder Brother?!” Xu Chongfei looked at Tang Jingyu incredulously.

Tang Jingyu simply shook his head with a hint of a smile, a stark contrast to Fang Xian’s rage.

He said, “Chongfei, step aside. Let him kill me. I’ve avenged myself and have no regrets.”

“So…” Fang Xian trembled. “If Haikong hadn’t poisoned, you would’ve killed my father…”

“Yes,” Tang Jingyu replied without hesitation. “For a vendetta as deep as ours, we cannot coexist under the same sky.”

“…Even if it means using me?” Fang Xian’s voice trailed off, as if he dared not ask the final question, the last word almost inaudible.

Tang Jingyu suddenly laughed—a genuine laugh unlike any before. It was carefree and unguarded; his usual furrowed brows smoothed out, and for once, he seemed light and joyous.

He spoke more clearly. “No need to ask one by one. I’ll tell you everything. If Haikong hadn’t poisoned, I would’ve found my own way to take revenge. Using my identity, using you, using whatever means necessary. I actually hate Haikong for robbing me of the chance to take my own revenge.”

“Tang—Jing—Yu!”

“Elder Brother?!”

Both Fang Xian and Xu Chongfei exclaimed in unison, though with different emotions, one in extreme anger and the other exhausted in body and spirit.

“Why would you say such things!” Xu Chongfei yelled with all his might, then suddenly froze, murmuring to himself as if realizing something. “You want Second Brother to kill you, don’t you? That’s why you’re provoking him…”

Tang Jingyu held back his urge to look away, nonchalantly meeting Xu Chongfei’s gaze, and continued, “You’re overthinking. I’m just telling the truth.” As he spoke, his eyes met Fang Xian’s, and his voice became louder and prouder. “I’ve never regretted using you, Fang Xian. Being used by me is your own folly—”

Fang Xian could no longer listen, drawing his sword with murderous intent towards Tang Jingyu!

Tang Jingyu’s smile faded, his gaze becoming calm, and as if content, he closed his eyes, not moving an inch, as the wind brushed past.

Suddenly, Xu Chongfei leapt forward!

Fang Xian thought he was trying to stop him, his eyes narrowing in intensified rage!

But Xu Chongfei, seemingly wielding a weapon, actually used his body to intercept Fang Xian’s sword!

Fang Xian realized too late that the sword was unstoppable…

“Cut!”

The director’s voice halted the scene, and Ran Lin, who played Fang Xian, stood straight, sword tip touching the ground, head lowered, gathering emotions for the next scene.

Lu Yiyao watched him, feeling a sourness in his heart, unsure if it was for Fang Xian or Tang Jingyu.

Tang Xiaoyu was taken aside by the makeup artist for touch-ups.

Soon after, with a bloodstained chest and a sword protruding gruesomely, he looked both realistic and tragic.

Ran Lin’s sword was taken away, as Fang Xian had already plunged his into Xu Chongfei’s body, leaving no sword in hand.

Tang Xiaoyu quietly approached Ran Lin and softly said, “Hey, it’s your turn to hold me.”

Ran Lin finally looked up, eyes red and moist but tearless, filled with a sorrowful gaze that made Tang Xiaoyu feel equally pained.

“I’m alright,” Tang Xiaoyu assured. “I will always live in both of your hearts, which is great.”

Ran Lin tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

After a while, he hoarsely said, “When I first got the role, I knew, of the three of us, you were the most foolish.”

Tang Xiaoyu understood Ran Lin was referring to the initial acceptance of the role of Xu Chongfei but couldn’t discern whether the words were meant for him or the character. His voice was filled with tenderness and sorrow—genuine emotions—not just an act.

As filming resumed, “Xu Chongfei” lay in “Fang Xian’s” arms.

His blood smeared on Fang Xian’s hand, staining his clothes and seeping into his heart.

Tang Jingyu stood at his usual spot, unable to maintain his composed demeanor. He had wanted to die by Fang Xian’s hand as a repayment, but never envisioned it ending like this.

The clapperboard snapped shut, startling a nearby sparrow.

The bird flew through the dense forest, towards the sky, lively and free, like a soul breaking free from its shackles.

Fang Xian couldn’t hold back any longer; a tear fell onto Xu Chongfei’s nose.

He shakily reached out, as if searching for something.

Fang Xian immediately grasped his hand tightly.

“Second Brother…” Xu Chongfei’s voice was intermittent, strained, and weak. “If I can repay the life that Elder Brother owes you, would that be alright…”

Fang Xian shook his head vigorously, his voice trembling fiercely. “Don’t talk nonsense. You won’t die. I’ll take you to Divine Doctor Xue right away…”

“Second Brother.” Xu Chongfei managed a weak smile and a glimpse of his usual mischief in his eyes. “Do you want me to leave with no peace of mind…”

Taking a deep breath, Fang Xian’s tears blurred his vision as he nearly shouted, “Fine! You’ve repaid it! The life of my third brother is most precious. No need to die. Just a wound is enough to repay. Hold on, I’ll find…”

“Bullshit!” For the first time in his life, Xu Chongfei swore. “You only speak nicely when you’re lying…”

“Xu Chongfei, listen well,” Fang Xian declared solemnly. “I, Fang Xian, swear to the heavens that my feud with Tang Jingyu ends here. If I break this oath, I shall meet a terrible end!”

Xu Chongfei, satisfied, couldn’t muster a smile due to the pain, but a smile reflected in his eyes, clear and pure like a lake on a spring day.

“Elder Brother…” Xu Chongfei strained to look at Tang Jingyu, saying with a hint of triumph. “Did you hear that… Second Brother said, the three of us are still brothers…”

Fang Xian didn’t say that—he only mentioned ending the feud.

But Tang Jingyu looked at him firmly and nodded gently. “Yes, still brothers. We did say we’d be brothers for life.”

Their vow was to erase all feuds and grudges—not just the animosity but also the brotherhood.

Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian both knew they could never be brothers again.

But if lies could bring back Xu Chongfei’s life, they were willing to tell them for a lifetime.

“Chongfei—” The person in his arms slowly closed his eyes, and Fang Xian called out in grief.

“I’m, I’m okay…” Xu Chongfei mustered the last bit of his strength, looking at the increasingly blurred Fang Xian. “I want to go back to the Plum Garden…”

The Plum Garden, the place where they swore brotherhood, was where, despite the plum trees, they never had the chance to see the plum blossoms bloom.

In his arms, Xu Chongfei closed his eyes forever.

Fang Xian held him tight, his voice choked with sobs. “Second Brother will take you back…”

……

“Cut!” Chen Qizheng made a deep breath before loudly announcing, “Pass—”

Song Mang was crying silently; if he wasn’t the scriptwriter, he would’ve sent blades to the writer for creating such a heart-wrenching story. How could he have come up with such a plot!

In the monitor, Ran Lin was still holding Tang Xiaoxu.

However, at the moment of “cut,” he immediately opened his eyes but didn’t move; he just looked up at his “Second Brother”.

Ran Lin wasn’t crying anymore, but the tears he shed before lingered in his eyes, about to fall.

Tang Xiaoyu reached out and gently touched his face, earnestly asking, “How do you manage to cry so handsomely…”

Ran Lin was defeated by his words and broke into laughter.

Tang Xiaoyu clambered out of “Second Brother’s” arms and hurried towards “Elder Brother”, wanting to share post-performance thoughts.

Lu Yiyao was still replaying the moment Tang Xiaoyu touched Ran Lin’s face. By the time he snapped out of it, Tang Xiaoyu was already near.

Lu Yiyao quickly extended a hand in a “please stop” gesture.

However, the enthusiastic third male lead was about to crash into him.

Lu Yiyao quickly stepped back, loudly cautioning, “Your sword¹—”

Tang Xiaoyu stopped abruptly, hurt disbelief in his eyes. “I’m cheap¹?”

¹Clarity: Lu Yiyao said sword [jian] (剑) while Tang Xiaoyu thought he was calling him cheap [jian] (贱). They’re homophones..

Ran Lin, feeling something was amiss the moment he ran off, followed and swiftly pulled off the “sword” sticking to Tang Xiaoyu’s chest, showing it to him. “You’re carrying the ‘sword’, Third Brother.”

Realization dawned on Tang Xiaoyu, and he felt the world brighten again.

Lu Yiyao, after this disturbance, completely stepped out of Tang Jingyu’s somber mood, the sorrow slowly fading.

Ran Lin felt a sudden urge to keep this lively “fish” in a glass tank as a mascot.

As he was pondering this, his nose suddenly felt cold.

Ran Lin froze, looking up instinctively.

Through the dense branches, the sky seemed darker than before. The wind had stopped, making everything even more eerily quiet.

His nose felt cold again.

Ran Lin widened his eyes in surprise, belatedly realizing—it was snowing.

……

Snow was rare in Hengdian in winter, and even when it did snow, it wasn’t much.

But this snowfall was different, starting as small flakes and growing into larger ones, creating a scene reminiscent of the north.

The next morning, the sky was clear, but the snow hadn’t stopped. Without any wind, the snowflakes quietly drifted down, slow and graceful.

This delighted the entire crew.

The final scene in the Plum Garden, which was supposed to be set in snowy weather according to the script, was now blessed with real snow. The crew had prepared lime and foam to create fake snow effects—usually the way to go for snow scenes in Hengdian.

But nature had granted them a perfect setting!

The scenery of the Plum Garden wasn’t yet complete, but to catch the snowfall, the crew worked overnight, making the plum blossoms bloom throughout the garden, creating a dreamy and surreal mix of reality and fiction.

The shooting schedule was adjusted, and the final scene was moved up to this day.

When Ran Lin entered the set after makeup, he was mesmerized by the garden’s scenery.

Lu Yiyao was already seated in the garden, his back bearing Tang Jingyu’s solitude and melancholy.

This scene didn’t include Tang Xiaoyu—after all, it was a grave-visiting scene, and the person in the grave showing up would turn the finale into a ghost story—but the dedicated third male lead still followed the crew to watch.

The dawn was breaking, and the snowflakes were getting smaller.

The crew didn’t dare delay and hurried to prepare. As the snow covered the Plum Garden brightened like daylight, all cast and crew took their places, the clapperboard snapped crisply!

Three years ago, in the height of summer, Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian buried Xu Chongfei here.

It seemed they were never destined to see the plum blossoms in bloom, whether during their brotherhood oath or while erecting the tomb, always surrounded by verdant greenery.

After that, the two went their separate ways, never to meet again.

Even when they came to mourn, they avoided Xu Chongfei’s actual death anniversary, one choosing the day before, the other the day after, unspoken yet perfectly in sync.

Today wasn’t any special day, just a regular winter day.

Yet, Fang Xian suddenly realized that the place which held their most cherished and sorrowful memories, he had never once seen the real plum blossoms in bloom.

Once the thought occurred, he couldn’t let it go.

So, Fang Xian came here.

Traveling day and night, for many days, just to see the plum blossoms.

As soon as he arrived at the Moon Gate, he was greeted with the fragrance of the blossoms. The scent was refreshing, as if stirring the deepest memories within one’s heart…

[Fang Xian: Why choose here?]

[Tang Jingyu: A gentleman is like a plum blossom, standing proud and unyielding in frost and snow. What, doesn’t that suit you, Young Master Fang?]

[Xu Chongfei: My fault, my fault, I should have chosen a winter day to bring you two here for the oath.]

[Tang Jingyu: Ignore him. I think this place is good. Chongfei, light the incense.]

That year, surrounded by lush greenery with no plum blossoms in sight.

He, calm as water; he, reckless and free; he, gentle as jade; the three young men swore brotherhood amidst heaven and earth and the mountains and river as their witness…

Fang Xian shook his head, stopping himself from reminiscing further.

Stepping through the Moon Gate, the scent of plum blossoms was stronger, the light snow adding to the vibrant red of the blossoms.

For the first time, Fang Xian saw the garden in full bloom.

It was truly beautiful.

He walked slowly towards the deepest part of the garden, where the largest plum tree stood, under which lay his dearest brother.

Suddenly, Fang Xian stopped.

The largest plum tree came into view, but he stood frozen, unable to move forward.

Beside the stone table under the tree, someone was pouring and drinking by himself.

Amidst the falling snow, he seemed to be murmuring, talking to someone.

He was alone.

But Fang Xian knew he was talking to Xu Chongfei, speaking, and Xu Chongfei listening—because he did the same.

As if sensing an intruder, Tang Jingyu put down his wine cup and looked up warily.

Their eyes met.

In the moment he recognized the visitor, the sharpness in Tang Jingyu’s eyes dissipated, replaced by a faint surprise.

Fang Xian stood there, quietly watching him.

The martial world is vast, so vast that mountains and rivers can separate them forever, yet it’s also small, small enough to fit within a courtyard garden.

A gust of wind came from nowhere, and suddenly, the falling plum blossoms fell like rain.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 49

“Cut—”

Director Chen’s command was like the chime at midnight in a fairy tale, where the magic disappears, and everything returns to reality. All the tension held by everyone relaxed instantly after that word, and even the heavy air in the hall started flowing again.

Crew members immediately came over to untie Lu Yiyao—after the scene of breaking the sword and renouncing brotherhood, Fang Xian had ordered Tang Jingyu to be locked up just like Abbot Haikong, and Tang Jingyu didn’t resist at all, surrendering without a fight.

Strictly speaking, this wasn’t just a scene; the multi-angle, multi-position shooting would make the future editing present this as a series of tightly interwoven shots, showcasing both the grand panorama of the Martial Arts Assembly and the close-up intense emotions of brotherly betrayal. But for the sake of the actors’ emotional continuity, Director Chen minimized the breaks in between, leading from Abbot Haikong provoking Fang Huanzhi to Abbot Haikong framing Tang Jingyu, then to Fang Xian confronting Tang Jingyu, and finally to the decisive break between them, creating a crescendo of emotions and tension until the final explosive climax.

Everyone in the crew was drawn into the performance.

Especially the actors involved.

Even though he was untied, Lu Yiyao still couldn’t snap back to reality for a long time, standing there dazed with tears still in his eyes. The crew members, without saying much, quietly left with the props rope. Li Tong wanted to bring water over but seeing how invested and moved his boss was, he too stopped a few steps away, not wanting to disturb.

Behind the monitor, Song Mang was already in tears. Without the director’s call, he dared not speak up. Now that the shooting was over, he finally removed his glasses, wiping them while sobbing. “They both cared and valued each other so much. How could they end up breaking apart? It’s too tragic…”

Director Chen rolled his eyes. “Who are you asking?”

His partner always believed in the power of emotional expression, thinking that only by moving himself to tears first could he move the audience.

Song Mang sniffled hard, feeling his emotions relieved, and finally put his glasses back on, patting his partner’s back and said in a nasal voice, “They both were amazing. How did we ever choose them for these roles? Divine foresight…”

Chen Qizheng sighed and took a sip of tea, staying silent. In their partnership, one self-congratulator was enough. If both started praising each other, they might get carried away.

Ran Lin was the first to pull away from the scene.

Despite the lingering bittersweet feeling, perhaps it was because of the cathartic cry, he felt surprisingly refreshed and light.

Crying, indeed, is a great stress reliever, especially when one doesn’t need to worry about explaining the reason—uninhibited, liberating. When he came back to his senses, he had stepped out from Fang Xian and the steamy bathroom scene from last night. 

Ran Lin thought to himself, ‘It’s great to be able to act.’

But Lu Yiyao might not think so.

Ran Lin leisurely observed his partner, feeling that Lu Yiyao at the moment was like a dog who had accidentally stuck its paw into an electrical socket, stunned by the sudden shock, standing still, forgetting who he is, where he is, and what he was about to do.

He looked too dazed, wasting a handsome face, especially with those tear streaks on it. 

A teasing smile crept onto his face. Ran Lin was about to remind him that they were done, and it was time to snap back to reality, but someone patted his shoulder first.

He turned around to see Zhong Jiakun, who played Fang Huanzhi.

Ran Lin quickly turned around and greeted politely. “Teacher Zhong.”

Zhong Jiakun might not be well-known to the younger generation, but thirty years back, he was an icon, and with a lifetime of acting, his prestige in the circle was immense. Even Chen Qizheng would have to respectfully address him as a senior.

And now, as if feeling that wasn’t enough, Zhong Jiakun, after Ran Lin turned around, patted his arm twice more, nodding in approval. “Good job, kid. Your acting is solid.”

Ran Lin was pleasantly surprised. Usually, Zhong Jiakun liked to jest with young actors like a playful old man, but once it came to acting, he was incredibly serious. He wouldn’t give direct feedback on someone’s performance—that was the director’s job—but he had his own standards. You could tell if he was excited or not by his demeanor. If his partner was good, he’d be particularly thrilled; if not, he’d still deliver high-quality performance, but the difference in his engagement was subtle.

Yet, whether his partner was good or not, Ran Lin had never seen him so openly compliment another actor from the same production. It felt like a big sweet date had fallen from the sky, thumping right on his head.

“Thank you, Teacher…” If he needed to be polite, Ran Lin could come up with a truckload of compliments, but when he was genuinely happy, he could only muster a simple and dry thank you.

Zhong Jiakun didn’t mind and leaned in a bit.

Ran Lin quickly got the hint that the veteran had some quiet advice to offer and leaned in closer.

Sure enough, Zhong Jiakun whispered, “Voice like a bell, energy like a rainbow. The audience shouldn’t see your effort, but every word should be emphatic, striking right to the heart… You need to practice your lines, try reciting when you have time.”

Ran Lin felt a surge of inspiration, as if he was groping for a path in the dark and suddenly a light shone in the distance, showing the way.

“Thank you for your guidance, Teacher Zhong.” Ran Lin sincerely thanked him.

Zhong Jiakun just smiled, didn’t continue, and patted him twice more before walking away. The old man was indeed robust; Ran Lin thought, feeling the lingering soreness from the pats on his arm.

Turning back around, Tang Xiaoyu, Xi Ruohan, and the actress playing Li’er were huddled not far off, looking at him and Lu Yiyao whispering together. No, Ran Lin felt they were mainly looking at Lu Yiyao because, as the crew members began to bustle about, preparing for the next scene, the stoic standing Lu Yiyao was rather out of sync.

But compared to the previous electrified daze, Lu Yiyao, though still standing, had a noticeable change in his eyes. Before it was a blank stare following confusion; now it was deep contemplation as if he was pondering the ultimate questions of the universe and humanity.

“Teacher Lu…” Ran Lin felt that if he didn’t speak up, Lu Yiyao might truly become too immersed in the character and unable to pull back. Just as he spoke out, Lu Yiyao suddenly interrupted him.

He said, “Can you hug me again?”

As he spoke, his previously distant gaze firmly fixed on Ran Lin. Their eyes met, and even with all his defenses up, Ran Lin’s heart skipped a beat.

Such deep eyes should be illegal!

And then—

“What did you say?” Ran Lin swore what he had just heard couldn’t be right.

Lu Yiyao understood Ran Lin’s reaction; if he were in his place, he’d also find the request bizarre. But he genuinely wanted to feel that embrace again.

Over the years, he had acted in many roles and had always been told by directors to immerse himself in the character. He believed that being “in character” meant concentrating fully, bringing the script’s lines and emotions to life, faithfully delivering the actions and even facial expressions the director wanted. Until he kept being called out for NG, he didn’t think there was anything wrong with his method. But as one NG led to another, he began to feel anxious. 

Director Chen’s attitude made him realize there was indeed an issue, but no matter how much Chen Qizheng explained, he couldn’t grasp where the problem lay.

Until Ran Lin’s embrace.

At that moment, he was pulled into the world of <Sword of Fallen Flowers>. He didn’t need to try hard to “act” anymore; he had become Tang Jingyu, completely forgetting Lu Yiyao. And he finally understood that being in character wasn’t about “concentration” but about “losing oneself”.

The turning point was Ran Lin’s hug. After being embraced and hearing “Don’t think about anything else,” he really stopped thinking and focused solely on Ran Lin. He listened to someone so obediently for the first time, as if brainwashed or hypnotized. So he needed to experience it again to confirm.

“Can you hug me again?” Lu Yiyao, seeing Ran Lin’s baffled face, repeated his request and, anticipating further confusion, added, “Just like when we had to NG earlier. Just a hug.”

This time, Ran Lin heard clearly. He blinked innocently and said, “No.”

Lu Yiyao was taken aback, feeling almost wronged by the rejection. “Why?”

Ran Lin stared at him for a while, then slowly grinned, revealing a teasing smile. “That’s a big move, only to be used at crucial moments.”

Lu Yiyao was flustered and just as he was about to persist, the trio of whisperers approached.

They hadn’t come up earlier because Lu Yiyao seemed too off, but seeing him now chatting with Ran Lin, they immediately joined in. However, as they approached, they split off, with Xi Ruohan and Li’er heading straight for Ran Lin, leaving only Tang Xiaoyu still thinking about his “Elder brother”.

Lu Yiyao watched as Ran Lin was led away by the two ladies for a discussion on acting insights, feeling a sense of loss. But Ran Lin had already clearly said no, so he couldn’t just forcibly hug him…

“Brother, stop staring,” Tang Xiaoyu comforted, patting Lu Yiyao’s shoulder. “Traditionally, the male lead drives the plot, but it’s the second male lead who’s meant to be loved.”

Lu Yiyao paused, asking reflexively, “Have they fallen for him?”

Tang Xiaoyu had initially just made a casual remark, not expecting Lu Yiyao to take it so seriously, but upon reconsideration, it didn’t seem entirely like a joke. “You might not notice acting opposite him, but we were all shaken by his performance. He was truly amazing. If I were a girl, I’d become a fan… Of course, you were great too.” Worried about Lu Yiyao’s feelings, Tang Xiaoyu quickly added, “But Tang Jingyu is not as pitiable as Fang Xian, right? Doesn’t stir up girls’ protective instincts.”

Lu Yiyao chuckled, took a deep breath, and finally felt completely detached from Tang Jingyu. “This is the first time I’ve felt so passionate while acting.”

Tang Xiaoyu understood completely. “I hardly have any lines, and just watching you two, I couldn’t relax for a second, feeling like I was about to explode along with your confrontation.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, just quietly watching Ran Lin being pulled away.

Following his gaze, Tang Xiaoyu sighed after a while. “It’s a wonder he hasn’t risen to stardom with his talent. Compared to him, I’m really lucky.”

Ran Lin, being interrogated by the two ladies, looked utterly dejected. Yet even so, his features remained delicate, and his profile was still attractive. Lu Yiyao unconsciously smiled, as if answering Tang Xiaoyu or reassuring himself. “When this drama airs, he’ll be a hit.”

Tang Xiaoyu looked curiously at Lu Yiyao’s eyes, which were flashing with an unreadable light. At first glance, it seemed like admiration, but it was too fervent.

……

The subsequent shooting went smoothly, wrapping up at 8 p.m., marking the earliest end to a day’s work in recent times. Lu Yiyao rarely felt this lingering excitement after wrapping up, as if every fiber of his being was activated. He didn’t want to stop, eager to extend this enthusiasm with his friends.

“Eating together? No problem,” Tang Xiaoyu agreed readily. His mysterious girlfriend who had visited the set had already left, and now he was a free little fish again.

Lu Yiyao was pleased, slowly watching Tang Jingyu in the mirror morph back into Lu Yiyao, while planning to extend the same invitation to Ran Lin once he came in to remove his makeup.

However, left waiting and waiting, Ran Lin didn’t show up.

Tang Xiaoyu was already done with his makeup, waiting for the generous mainland star to finish so they could leave together.

Unable to calm down anymore, Lu Yiyao decided to call Ran Lin.

The phone rang until it naturally cut off, and Lu Yiyao’s mood shifted from anticipation to confusion and then to a slight melancholy, aggravated by the soulless “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable. Please try again later” repeating in the earpiece.

“What’s wrong?” Tang Xiaoyu noticed Lu Yiyao’s downturn. “Second Brother didn’t pick up?”

Lu Yiyao nodded. “Yeah.”

Tang Xiaoyu frowned in confusion. “What’s he busy with? Not picking up the phone, not coming to remove makeup.”

A sudden worry hit Lu Yiyao. “What if something happened?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked bemused, feeling his elder brother was being overly anxious. “We’re on a film set, not a battlefield.”

Before Tang Xiaoyu could finish speaking, the phone Lu Yiyao was holding rang. Dramatically, Tang Xiaoyu witnessed a metaphorical spotlight illuminate Lu Yiyao’s face as he saw the caller ID.

“Hello, where are you?” Lu Yiyao’s voice sounded almost ready to burst into song.

“So come over quickly once you’re done talking. Xiaoyu and I have already finished removing our makeup.”

“Oh, is that so? I wanted to talk to you more…”

“Oh, I see…”

“Yeah, it’s okay…”

“Alright, see you tomorrow.”

Tang Xiaoyu observed the entire conversation, experiencing firsthand what was called a rollercoaster of emotions. He watched as Lu Yiyao’s demeanor went from bright to dim to forlorn, and even as a bystander, he felt a pang of sympathy.

Clearly, Lu Yiyao was turned down, but the call was too brief to speculate much. Tang Xiaoyu gently asked, “What’s wrong?”

“He was discussing the upcoming scenes with Screenwriter Song, which is why he didn’t come to remove his makeup earlier.”

“And then?”

“He said the discussion was very enlightening and he needs to head back to the hotel right away to delve into it.”

“So our dinner is canceled?”

“I invited you; how can I go back on my word?”

Tang Xiaoyu looked at Lu Yiyao’s earnest face and felt a surge of warmth. He knew Lu Yiyao valued his relationship with Ran Lin, and he was just an add-on. At this moment, Lu Yiyao’s insistence made him feel appreciated. Of course, after enduring an awkward dinner with Lu Yiyao later, Tang Xiaoyu would vow never to dine alone with him again, but that’s a story for another time.

Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the filming location.

Liu Wanwan approached the suave and solitary Fang Xian. “Ran Ge, you’ve been hiding here for half an hour. If you don’t go remove your makeup soon, the makeup artist will leave.”

Ran Lin frowned in disagreement. “How is it hiding? I’m reflecting…”

Liu Wanwan: “On God Lu’s phone number?”

Ran Lin: “On the scene we just shot!”

Sighing, Liu Wanwan tried to coax him. “Ran Ge, I’m your assistant, one of your own. If you even try to fool me, soon you’ll have no one close to confide in.”

Ran Lin met his assistant’s gaze unflinchingly, and after a few seconds, caved in. “Can you check if Lu Yiyao has left?”

Liu Wanwan’s “I knew it” expression said it all, but she made a quick call instead of moving.

Ran Lin heard her say, “We’re running late on our side. Haven’t gone for makeup removal yet… Oh, you’ve already finished and left? Oh, in the car already?”

The call lasted less than a minute.

Efficiently hanging up, Liu Wanwan smiled. “God Lu has already left in the car.”

Ran Lin swallowed hard, asking, “Who did you call?”

Liu Wanwan casually pocketed her phone. “Li Tong, God Lu’s assistant.”

“When did you two get so close?” Ran Lin was surprised, immediately picturing the lively and clever assistant.

Liu Wanwan smiled ambiguously. “When you and God Lu got close, we followed suit, moving with you guys.”

Ran Lin felt exposed and clamped his lips shut, wary of saying something that might give Liu Wanwan more ammunition. You can keep things from the company or the manager, but trying to fool an assistant is a Herculean task.

Liu Wanwan didn’t really suspect anything; she’d witnessed the two from awkwardness to natural camaraderie to friendly chats. She genuinely found their relationship precious. So, seeing Ran Lin avoiding Lu Yiyao today, she felt a bit off. 

When the area cleared, Liu Wanwan decided to be honest. “Ran Ge, I know you’re worried about being seen with God Lu all the time, getting photographed, and the rumors making things awkward for both of you. But since God Lu doesn’t seem to mind these things, and you don’t have any fans to lose, why are you the one avoiding first?”

Ran Lin pondered for a while, then beckoned Liu Wanwan closer.

The girl immediately leaned in. “What?”

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes slowly. “What do you mean by I don’t have any fans to lose?”

Educated along the way, Liu Wanwan finally realized that even an 18^th-tier celebrity has dignity.

As Ran Lin finally stepped into the makeup room, seeing supporting actors but not the lead, he finally felt at ease.

From the moment the director called wrap, he knew there would be a dinner invitation from Lu Yiyao. It wasn’t a magical premonition; after months of working together, he had grown very familiar with Lu Yiyao. A flicker in his eyes and Ran Lin would know whether he wanted to discuss the scene or grab a meal. Perhaps it’s because Lu Yiyao never concealed his thoughts, quite unlike Tang Jingyu in the drama but more like Xu Chongfei.

Ran Lin thought to himself that he was the real Tang Jingyu, harboring a multitude of thoughts, suffering silently, never revealing a thing.

However, unlike in the drama, where Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian have a dramatic and soul-stirring split, in real life, he and Lu Yiyao could just let any ambiguous distance between them gradually fade.

Lu Yiyao might think a hint is enough, and the sun will rise as usual the next day. Indeed, the sun did rise, but Ran Lin needed a bit more time before he could bask in it carelessly again. If Lu Yiyao wasn’t giving him that time, he’d have to sneak it bit by bit. 

Fortunately, Lu Yiyao was easy to deceive.

……

History has proven that you can tease the naive and innocent, but you shouldn’t push them too hard. Ran Lin underestimated Lu Yiyao’s intuition, and Lu Yiyao underestimated Ran Lin’s determination.

Finally, on another winter night of being politely refused, Lu Yiyao realized he couldn’t secure this dinner! For two whole weeks, he tried to invite him every other day, but even as several important supporting actors wrapped up their scenes, he hadn’t secured a single dinner. With an array of reasons like needing to study the script, preparing for the next day, needing early rest, and so on, the clever Lu Yiyao saw through it all—Ran Lin was avoiding him.

What was frustrating was that Ran Lin’s avoidance tactics were highly sophisticated. He wouldn’t just turn and run upon seeing you but would engage in any other topic with you. He’d discuss the weather or dance at the crow of a rooster but just wait until you invited him out. Then he’d look at you with a pained expression, earnestly throwing out those irritating excuses, and then look at you with those big, sincere eyes as if to say, “Everything I’m saying is true. Look into my honest eyes.” It made you want to call him out, but you couldn’t bear to.

Even Tang Xiaoyu noticed something was off and asked privately, “Brother, did you do something to upset Second Brother?” Every time this came up, Lu Yiyao was noncommittal—as if he really had done something and lacked the confidence to shake his head.

On the way back, Liu Wanwan pondered and then cautiously suggested, “Ran Ge, you’ve been avoiding too obviously recently, God Lu must have noticed.”

“Let him notice,” Ran Lin replied, putting the script over his face as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation.

Liu Wanwan, slightly anxious, advised, “Brother, more friends mean more paths. I’m not saying you should stick with God Lu because he’s popular; I think it’s a pity if you two, having hit it off so well, let the relationship cool down.”

The car jostled, and the script fell from Ran Lin’s face.

He picked it up, patted it, and covered his face again.

Liu Wanwan suddenly felt sympathy for Wang Xi. It’s not easy being an agent, especially when your artist is so uncooperatively silent. Ran Lin actually felt quite guilty; he knew Liu Wanwan cared about him. Otherwise, she would just do her job as an assistant and collect her salary. Why bother with all the extra care? But the questions she asked, he really couldn’t answer.

He couldn’t tell her that he hadn’t planned it this way. His original intention was to keep things purely platonic with Lu Yiyao. But later he realized it wouldn’t work. Whenever he was around Lu Yiyao, unless he was engrossed in acting, he couldn’t maintain a casual demeanor at any other time. All those apparent easy-going conversations were the result of his painstaking efforts. He lacked the confidence that he could maintain his composure during a dinner alone at night, facing a friend eager for a heart-to-heart conversation.

Just agreeing to dinner would inevitably lead to Lu Yiyao wanting to “share feelings”. The old Ran Lin would have found this a precious quality, but now just the thought of Lu Yiyao possibly saying, “I really want to be friends with you, heart to heart,” made him want to kick the mainland star.

It wasn’t Lu Yiyao’s issue; it was his—having developed feelings, he couldn’t expect pure friendship anymore, even if it was offered on a silver platter.

Liu Wanwan saying “it’s a pity to let it cool” resonated with him, and he knew it. That’s exactly why it was even more bitter. 

He had often thought, if only he hadn’t fallen for him in the first place.

……

When Huo Yuntao received a video call invitation from his old friend while he was at his countryside villa in front of the fireplace, flipping through his phone and waiting for the delightful “ding” from the oven indicating the completion of his creation—a Huo-style gingerbread house—he was startled. 

Two months ago, he had promised Lin Panxi to make the most beautiful gingerbread house in the UK for his girlfriend to admire from afar. Now, after New Year’s Day, the gingerbread house was still an uncertainty in the oven.

The video call from Lu Yiyao popped up unexpectedly, startling him enough to nearly toss his phone into the fireplace.

Clicking accept, his old friend’s face appeared on the screen. Oddly enough, when on camera, Lu Yiyao’s face was always perfectly handsome from every angle, but during video calls, he always managed to fill the entire screen with his face, leaving no room to even glimpse the background wall.

Checking the time, it must be past midnight in China.

“Just finished working?” It had been a while since they last talked, and Huo Yuntao vaguely remembered Lu Yiyao saying they were wrapping up at the end of the month, so they must be working overtime now.

“No, just finished showering.” Lu Yiyao’s deep voice came from the video.

Huo Yuntao felt bewildered. “Then could you move back a bit and show your hair? I really can’t judge your state just by your face.”

Lu Yiyao: “Can you judge my mood then?”

Huo Yuntao squinted his eyes, sensing the words ‘no good intentions’. Typically, when Lu Yiyao wanted to pick a fight or argue, this was his approach.

“Ahem,” Huo Yuntao cleared his throat and sat up straight, uncharacteristically solemn. “Before making any judgments, I need to hear the backstory first.”

The image on the screen started to shake. Huo Yuntao, feeling dizzy, was about to complain when the image finally stabilized. Apparently, Lu Yiyao had been lying down and now sat up.

Thus, two old friends, spanning continents, sat opposite each other, somewhat resembling a scholarly debate.

“The backstory starts with that bad advice you gave me…” Lu Yiyao went straight to the point without any hesitation.

Huo Yuntao raised his eyebrows in surprise, interrupting, “Wait, that matter… It’s not over yet?”

“It isn’t.”

“I thought there was no follow-up?”

“I never said that.”

“But you haven’t contacted me since.”

“Am I not contacting you now?”

“……”

Ding—

“What’s that sound?”

“The oven.”

“Aren’t you going to check?”

“It’s okay. Whatever I made will serve as a Valentine’s Day gift as well. Come on, continue with the story!”

Lu Yiyao looked at the strange glow on his old friend’s face on the screen and suddenly thought that perhaps consulting the same “strategist” twice might not have been the best idea. Moreover, he had come to accuse, so how did it turn into sharing gossip updates?!

Ten minutes later.

Huo Yuntao: “So, after you hinted at rejection, he started avoiding you?”

Lu Yiyao: “Not exactly avoiding. Everything’s normal during the day—filming, resting, chatting, no issues. It’s just that I can’t get him to agree to a meal anymore.”

Huo Yuntao: “…”

Lu Yiyao, growing impatient for a response, pressed, “What are you thinking?”

After another moment of contemplation, Huo Yuntao rolled his eyes. “Why did you spend eight minutes telling me how good his acting is?”

Lu Yiyao blinked, genuinely perplexed. “Did I?”

Huo Yuntao: “You did.”

Lu Yiyao: “For that long?”

Huo Yuntao: “And you were beaming.”

Lu Yiyao: “…”

“Let’s talk seriously.” Huo Yuntao swiftly changed the subject, knowing well that if they started bickering, it would never end. “If he’s avoiding you, it means he got your hint and is restraining himself.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t quite like the sound of that, as if implying Ran Lin had done something excessive. He instinctively refuted, “There’s nothing about his behavior that needs to be restrained.”

Huo Yuntao massaged his forehead. “You’re questioning if he’s gay, isn’t that a problem?”

This was one of Lu Yiyao’s biggest conundrums. “So is he gay or not?”

Huo Yuntao pondered for a moment. Unlike last time when he was ambivalent, this time he gave a definite answer. “I think he is.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent.

He had had these suspicions and Ran Lin’s avoidance only amplified them. He had always harbored a hope that Ran Lin wasn’t gay because if not, their issues would be much simpler.

“What’s with that expression?” Huo Yuntao saw his friend’s furrowed brows after his answer, resembling a craggy landscape. “Didn’t we analyze this last time? If he is gay and has picked up on your hint, his behavior and psychology towards you would change. Isn’t that the result we wanted?”

“That’s not the result I wanted,” Lu Yiyao blurted out. “He’s avoiding me now. How can we continue being friends?”

“Why can’t you be friends if he’s avoiding you?” Huo Yuntao was baffled. “You just said everything is normal during the day—filming, resting, chatting. It’s just dinner he’s avoiding. No big deal. He’s been rejected and still goes out to eat with you? Either he has a masochistic streak, or he hasn’t given up.”

Lu Yiyao looked like he had more to say but ultimately remained silent.

Huo Yuntao rarely saw Lu Yiyao like this. Their relationship was such that even if one was bereft of logic, they’d still dig up some illogical argument to continue the banter. This speechless Lu Yiyao unnerved him.

“What kind of friend do you actually want to be with him?” Huo Yuntao asked, suddenly having a bad feeling, instinctively adding, “Like us?”

Lu Yiyao stared blankly through the screen. “Why not?”

The premonition came true.

Huo Yuntao’s heart sank. “It’s not that it’s impossible, it’s that it’s unlikely.”

Lu Yiyao’s eyes narrowed slowly.

“Glaring at me won’t help.” Huo Yuntao rolled his eyes. “Our friendship is tight; we can share clothes. Ask him if he wants to share clothes with you. He’d probably rather strip you of yours.”

Lu Yiyao knew nothing good would follow Huo Yuntao’s statement. What karma did he accumulate in his last life to end up with a friend like this, so despairing? Just when he finally wanted to make a second friend, it turned out to be complicated…

No, Lu Yiyao realized something was off. He never really cared whether Ran Lin was gay or straight. Even if Ran Lin liked both men and women, he would completely respect it and wouldn’t let it be an obstacle in their relationship. What had been troubling him all these days was only one thing—the person Ran Lin likes might be him.

“Trust me.” Huo Yuntao sighed, turning into a rare voice of reason. “If you really consider him a friend and want what’s best for him, stop emphasizing wanting to be friends. Let’s pretend nothing happened. The fact that he can interact normally with you during filming and chatting is already a win. If you don’t want to push him further away, just let things take their course.”

“So he really likes me,” Lu Yiyao suddenly said.

Huo Yuntao’s reflexive cynicism toward his friend’s narcissism kicked in, and without thinking, he retorted, “Maybe not. Maybe he doesn’t like you at all, and you misinterpreted his intentions and rejected him. It’s embarrassing and irritating for him, of course he’s avoiding you.”

“No, he likes me.” Lu Yiyao suddenly had a flash of insight, recalling a specific memory with vivid details. “Once we were eating with another person, and I felt that person’s behavior towards him was ambiguous. I warned him to be careful. I said men are generally insensitive to these things, don’t be fooled and taken advantage of…”

“Why didn’t you mention this earlier.” Huo Yuntao perked up. “What was his response then?”

Lu Yiyao hesitated.

Huo Yuntao’s eyes widened. “Well?”

Lu Yiyao bit the bullet. “He held my hand and said, ‘Let’s encourage each other.'”

Huo Yuntao: “…”

Lu Yiyao: “He must like me. That sentence was hinting at me.”

Huo Yuntao: “So you didn’t react at all then!”

Lu Yiyao: “I didn’t think much of it.”

Huo Yuntao: “I need to test the IQ of my friends before making friends in the future…”

Now recalling that incident, it does sound quite awkward, but having admitted the most embarrassing parts to his friend, Lu Yiyao stubbornly persisted, “Now you have to believe me.”

Huo Yuntao frowned. His friend was quite narcissistic, but he never used other people’s affection to boost his image because Lu Yiyao found exploiting someone’s genuine feelings for self-aggrandizement distasteful. But now, his friend was dredging up old incidents to prove that Ran Lin indeed liked him.

This wasn’t a good sign.

“Why aren’t you moving? Is there a delay?” Lu Yiyao mistook Huo Yuntao’s silence for a frozen screen, thinking the video had lagged.

“I’m here; stop shaking. I’m getting dizzy,” Huo Yuntao said irritably.

Lu Yiyao stopped his shaking hand and was about to speak when he heard the other side ask seriously, “Bud, do you like that Ran Lin?”

Lu Yiyao paused. “In what way?”

Huo Yuntao was exasperated. “How many aspects of him do you like?”

Lu Yiyao chuckled. “Acting, character, personality, looks, voice, skin—I like all of it. Oh, and I’m particularly envious of the last one.”

Huo Yuntao looked at him, ready to explode. “Love, I’m asking if you’ve fallen in love with him!”

Lu Yiyao’s laughter subsided, and he sighed tiredly. “If I could fall in love with him, would I still be discussing this back and forth with you?”

“That settles it.” Huo Yuntao leaned into the screen, intently looking at his old friend as if trying to blow some serious advice onto him. “Since you don’t want to develop feelings for him, does it matter whether he likes you or not?”

---

Kinky Thoughts:

I need a friend like Huo Yuntao.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 48

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

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

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

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

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

Did Ran Lin get the hint?

Is Ran Lin actually gay?

Does Ran Lin really like him?

None of these questions were resolved.

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

Huo Yuntao, you troublemaker!

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

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

After the tirade, the alarm clock rang.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Their eyes met, exchanging silent, intense looks—

[Lu Yiyao: What’s going on?]

[Tang Xiaoyu: 🤷]

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

[Tang Xiaoyu: Hint?]

[Lu Yiyao: Bye.]

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, Second Brother, I think…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The dinner they had over two months ago still counted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But now he realized he might have been too arrogant.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your father destroyed my entire family.”

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

“No, it’s me who wronged you.”

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

“……”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With their arrival, the cast was complete.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There aren’t any.”

“Isn’t it three rules?”

“One important rule is worth three.”

“……”

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

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

They walked through the scene three times.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Scene 835, Take 1…”

Click!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Abbot, please forgive any offense.”

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

“Ugh!”

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

“Cut! Blood bag—”

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

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

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

“Father!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he didn’t want to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fang Xian’s mind went blank.

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

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

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

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

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

Fang Huanzhi died in Fang Xian’s arms.

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

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

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

Then he would do it.

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

When did it start?

Fang Xian didn’t know.

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

One step, two steps, three steps.

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

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

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

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

“Cut!”

The director’s interruption broke the rhythm.

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

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

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

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

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

“Director Chen, I understand your point.”

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

“Cut! No, do it again!”

“Cut! No, do it again!”

“Cut—”

Lu Yiyao was mentally and physically exhausted.

The entire set was on the verge of collapse.

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

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

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

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

“Well, Teacher Lu…”

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, a shadow pounced at him.

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

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

Lu Yiyao forgot to breathe.

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao heard Ran Lin say this.

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

Compelled, he nodded slightly.

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

The person questioned, “Was the poison yours?”

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

“What were you doing in the kitchen?”

“Looking for the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual.”

“Alone?”

“With Abbot Haikong.”

“You conspired?”

“No, he used me.”

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

The crowd echoed—

“Yes…”

“Unbelievable…”

“Abbot Haikong is highly respected…”

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

But Fang Xian heard them.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Second Brother…”

“Don’t call me that!”

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

Tang Jingyu’s eyes turned red.

Fan Xian’s eyes were filled with tears.

“Did you know about Haikong poisoning?”

“No.”

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

“Yes.”

“When did you know?”

“……”

“Answer me!”

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

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

It was that early.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clang.

The scabbard hit the ground.

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

But the sword was extremely sharp.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly, warmth spread across his face.

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

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 47

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“……”

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

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

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

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

“Just forget I asked, goodnight.”

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

Lu Yiyao snorted.

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

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

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

“Do you think he could be?”

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao felt he had been greatly emotionally deceived.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So, your answer?”

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

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

However—

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

“Can you change that nickname?”

“Little Eastern Dragon?”

“If it makes you happy…”

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

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

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

“Beast.”

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

Lu Yiyao fell silent, deep in thought.

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

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

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

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

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

“So, right now…”

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

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

“Observe secretly.”

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

……

Lu Yiyao found out.

Lu Yiyao didn’t find out.

Lu Yiyao found out…

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

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

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

Ran Lin was torn all night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin was amused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tang Jingyu couldn’t quite articulate his concerns.

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

“<Sword of Fallen Flowers> Episode…”

Click!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Click!

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin was telling the truth.

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin was annoyed. “…Stepmother.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao felt defeated by his reaction.

Ran Lin couldn’t help but chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao watched with interest.

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

Lu Yiyao was stunned.

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin suddenly understood.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao nodded and stepped aside to let him pass.

Ran Lin quickly followed his assistant, leaving the set.

Lu Yiyao suddenly felt like something would be different tomorrow.

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 46

Today, Lu Yiyao was returning to Group A.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you two end up parting ways?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tang Xiaoyu laughed again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let’s have dinner together after work.”

Tang Xiaoyu felt as if time had rewound.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, I have plans tonight.”

Tang Xiaoyu, without hesitation, chose his girlfriend.

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao’s smile was sincere and open.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “Why?”

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

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

Tang Xiaoyu: “No, you’re just weird.”

Ran Lin: “…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In that moment, everything seemed brighter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao, puzzled. “Why not?”

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

Lu Yiyao: “…Okay.”

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao didn’t believe him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “……”

Lu Yiyao: “Why are you laughing?”

Ran Lin: “You’re crazy.”

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “Don’t worry. I will be.”

…Can’t you follow the outline!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A knock on the door interrupted them.

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

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

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

Ran Lin: “Would you have stopped me?”

Lu Yiyao: “Yes.”

Ran Lin: “Do you think I’m naive?”

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

Ran Lin: “……”

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

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

Lu Yiyao’s concerns were eased.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao replied, “I have my ways.”

Ran Lin narrowed his eyes.

Lu Yiyao smiled candidly.

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao pondered before slowly shaking his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“…It’s just a metaphor!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thump, thump…

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

Loud as a drum.

He suddenly felt unworthy of Lu Yiyao’s honesty.

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

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

Ran Lin involuntarily nodded.

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

“I don’t just see you as a friend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Are you there? I need some advice¹.]

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some on mutual understanding and connection.

Some on progressing together.

And some on the soul of gossip.

---

Kinky Thoughts:

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

…Yes honey, it’s the closet door.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 45

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

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

Ran Lin believed that a legal notice would follow soon.

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

The comments were divided, representing various opinions:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why not someone else?

What exactly were you two talking about?

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

Ran Lin scrolled through comments for half the night.

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

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

Strangely, he felt surprisingly calm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tang Xiaoyu was stunned. “Last night?”

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin cherished this lively fish.

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

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

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

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You could have transferred and then deleted them.”

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

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

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

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

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

Da Chu just smiled silently.

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

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

Da Chu quickly copied and returned everything intact.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sweatpants: “……”

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

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

Baldhead: “I really do love this job.”

Sweatpants: “That’s great.”

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

……

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What if he does something like this again?”

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

Da Chu was taken aback.

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

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

Da Chu was silent.

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

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

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

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

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

Da Chu was speechless.

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

……

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

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

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

But it was worth it.

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

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

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

Yet, they never discussed these issues.

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

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

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

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

Lu Yiyao replied simply, “Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He thought he had forgotten it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

Kinky Thoughts:

Might be sooner than you think.

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

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

But I digress.

---

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

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

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

---

Chapter 44

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

Ran Lin lowered his eyes, hiding his emotions.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the purpose of the initiator.

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

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

Tang Xiaoyu thought he was hearing things.

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

[@Zhang Beichen, are you okay?]

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

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

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

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

Ran Lin admitted, he was afraid.

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

Compared to him, Gu Jie was much more straightforward.

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

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

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

Tang Xiaoyu felt a bit surprised and somewhat ashamed.

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

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

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

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

……

Zhang Beichen’s Room, a certain hotel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wu Xuefeng slowly felt reassured.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[+1]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Zhang Beichen was puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wu Xuefeng raised an eyebrow at this but remained noncommittal, looking back at the nearly simultaneous messages in the chat group thoughtfully.

……

Finally finding his moment on the way back to the hotel, Tang Xiaoyu’s girlfriend called him.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin watched him step a few meters away to take the call, smiling.

The night was deep, and the streets were quiet. Even a few meters apart, they could hear Tang Xiaoyu’s “Okay, okay,” “Don’t move, I’m coming to pick you up,” “Yes, yes, a kiss, mwah.”

The two men exchanged a knowing smile.

Tang Xiaoyu, having ended the call, came back. “You guys go ahead to the hotel. I need to pick up a friend.”

Ran Lin asked softly, “Has she arrived?”

Tang Xiaoyu, forgetting his defenses for a moment, replied naturally: “Yeah, she just got here and can’t find the hotel, so I have to go pick her up.”

Lu Yiyao immediately responded considerately, “Then hurry up. Don’t let your girlfriend wait too long. It’s late and not safe.”

“Yes, exactly.” Tang Xiaoyu seemed to find a confidant. “I told her. Coming a day later is fine. No need to rush here at midnight…”

He stopped midway, realizing his slip.

Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin didn’t say anything, but their faces were already beaming with amusement.

“…Sneaky!” Tang Xiaoyu managed to say after a long pause.

Ran Lin struggled to suppress his laughter, taking a couple of deep breaths before patting his friend on the shoulder. “Remember, try not to take live interviews in the future.”

Tang Xiaoyu took the loss graciously. Fortunately, he hadn’t let slip his girlfriend’s name, and he didn’t think these two were gossips, so he didn’t dwell on it, saying simply, “Then I’m off to see her. You guys head back to the hotel.”

Knowing how much Tang Xiaoyu wanted to keep his true love hidden, they didn’t press for gossip. After a simple reminder to watch out for safety and paparazzi, they went their separate ways.

Back at the hotel, Ran Lin pondered over Zhang Beichen’s situation for a long time. One moment he was worried about Zhang Beichen, and the next he imagined himself in a similar scenario. His mind was a mess of thoughts, and he couldn’t focus on reading the script for the next day. He didn’t even realize when he fell asleep.

Ran Lin set his phone alarm for 4:55, 5:00, and 5:15 a.m. every day. Usually, fifteen minutes was enough for washing up, and he’d be downstairs by 5:30 AM to catch the crew’s car. After arriving at the set, there was still makeup and styling to do before the 8:00 a.m. start.

But today, the sound came unusually early.

Ran Lin even felt like he hadn’t slept much.

And it wasn’t the phone alarm, but someone… knocking?

Ran Lin instantly woke up with a start and sat up swiftly, his first reaction being that something had gone wrong, his heart pounding with fear.

“Ran Ge…” Through the door, Liu Wanwan’s voice sounded uncertain.

Ran Lin let out a sigh of relief and gradually calmed down, finding it funny to himself. He must have had some nightmare that he forgot upon waking, still in a state of tension.

Getting out of bed, Ran Lin, dressed in a tank top and shorts, opened the door. “What’s up?”

“What do you mean what’s up? It’s time to head to the set…” Liu Wanwan, looking puzzled, then realized that Ran Lin seemed like he had just woken up, uncertainly said, “Ran Ge, you haven’t washed your face or brushed your teeth yet?”

Ran Lin frowned, yawning sleepily. “What time is it? My alarm hasn’t gone off yet.”

Liu Wanwan stared at him intently and said seriously, “Brother, it’s 5:25.”

Ran Lin was stunned, his mouth still open mid-yawn, frozen in place.

Liu Wanwan guessed, “Did you forget to charge your phone?”

Ignoring his assistant, Ran Lin rushed back into the room and picked up his phone from the bedside table. Indeed, it was dead, completely powered off.

“Give me five minutes!” Dropping this phrase, Ran Lin dashed into the bathroom.

Liu Wanwan sighed, thinking this wasn’t Ran Lin’s style; he was always meticulous, so how could he have forgotten to charge his phone.

Ran Lin, brushing his teeth, looked at his dark circles in the mirror, sighing with mixed feelings.

Despite rushing, Ran Lin was still five minutes late. He immediately apologized to the driver.

After a month and a half of working together, the driver was familiar with him and waved it off indifferently. “Five minutes is nothing. I’ve waited for five hours before.”

With that, he pressed the gas pedal and headed straight for the set.

While getting his makeup done, the makeup artist teased Ran Lin, “Did you go out stealing last night? Look at those dark circles. You could rival a panda.”

Tang Xiaoyu, also getting makeup done nearby, was baffled, thinking that it was he who had had a passionate night, while Ran Lin looked utterly drained.

But after the makeup, the dark circles were no longer visible.

Today, in Group A’s drama scenes, Ran Lin was still acting with the female lead, but there were a few scenes where Xu Chongfei had to be in the background, so Tang Xiaoyu was also present, ready to enter the frame at any time. Lu Yiyao was filming with Group B at another location for scenes in the Bodhi Temple with Abbot Hai Kong. According to the schedule, Ran Lin wouldn’t see Lu Yiyao for the entire day.

Previously, when filming in separate groups from Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin would always unconsciously think about the scenes Lu Yiyao was filming and how he was acting. It was unintentional, like someone who’s always around suddenly isn’t there one day, making you feel that something’s off and compelling you to keep thinking about that absent partner.

But today, not having Lu Yiyao in Group A oddly gave Ran Lin some peace of mind.

Otherwise, seeing him would remind Ran Lin of his hopeless and risky unrequited love, which would indeed distract him during acting.

Murphy’s Law says, if you worry about something happening, it’s more likely to occur.

When Liu Wanwan handed over the phone saying, “Xi Jie is looking for you. It’s urgent,” Ran Lin thought of this law.

In fact, since the alarm didn’t go off this morning and Liu Wanwan knocked on his door, waking him up with a start, it seemed to foreshadow that something was going to happen today.

“Just focus on filming on set. Don’t say a word. Don’t take any interview calls. Leave everything to me. These kinds of baseless rumors without solid evidence aren’t hard to deal with, but…” Wang Xi’s voice lowered, almost warningly, “Privately, you can’t have any contact with Lu Yiyao, at least for this period. We can’t give people another chance to speculate, understand?”

“Yeah.” Ran Lin didn’t know what else to say.

Many times, things happen without warning, and then, under the instigation of those with ulterior motives and the public’s eagerness for gossip, they spread like wildfire, engulfing him. He could only watch helplessly as the flames soared high into the sky.

Liu Wanwan had already received the news during Ran Lin’s filming and saw the updates. She felt especially sorry for Ran Lin, softly advising, “Xi Jie said it’s fine, so it’s fine. Besides, Lu Yiyao’s team is there too. These kinds of frivolous news are common, just sensational headlines; no one takes them seriously.”

Ran Lin moved his lips as if trying to smile but couldn’t quite manage it. His eyes fixated on the phone screen, where his and Lu Yiyao’s names had once again landed on the hot search, but this time with an additional keyword—Lu Yiyao, Ran Lin, hotel room.

……

During lunch break on the set of Group B’s drama scenes.

Everyone was eating boxed lunches when Lu Yiyao was pulled aside by Li Tong to take a call from his agent.

Yao Hong was calling Lu Yiyao’s phone, while his assistant considerately handed over his own phone to Lu Yiyao, displaying the news that had been spreading like wildfire on Weibo all morning—

[Shocking Same-Sex Love in the Entertainment Industry, Photos of Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin Entering a Hotel Room Exposed!]

“What exactly did you do last night?” Yao Hong, in Lu Yiyao’s studio in Beijing, was overwhelmed by this news, as the entire PR team was in a frenzy.

“We just had dinner, and Tang Xiaoyu was with us.” Lu Yiyao, looking at the two photos on Weibo, didn’t think the situation was too serious but was more angry than anything else.

The photos were taken on the evening of that dinner, capturing the moment he and Ran Lin entered the side door of a hotel. They seemed to be continuous shots, with the only difference being their distance from the hotel’s side door.

In the photos, he and Ran Lin weren’t doing anything inappropriate; they were just walking side by side into the hotel while chatting, a completely normal interaction between friends.

But with the marketing accounts’ spin of “late-night secret meetings,” “hotel room rendezvous,” “tender words exchanged,” “oblivious to others,” the story took on a life of its own, thrilling the gossipy public.

In just one morning, the news about “Lu Yiyao spending the night with a male star in a hotel” swept through Weibo like a hurricane.

“Tang Xiaoyu was there? Why isn’t he in the photos? Were they edited out?” Yao Hong’s immediate concern was to ascertain the truth. Only by understanding the whole situation could she develop an effective response.

Lu Yiyao pondered for two seconds before replying, “He had something else to do after dinner and didn’t return to the hotel with us.”

“Do you think he might come forward to explain for you?” Yao Hong was genuinely asking, needing to explore all possible solutions.

Lu Yiyao fell silent.

He thought Tang Xiaoyu might help if it didn’t endanger his girlfriend, but now he couldn’t be sure, as everyone had their own concerns.

“Which hotel did you have dinner at?” Yao Hong changed the subject.

Lu Yiyao, having chosen the restaurant, knew the details well and provided the name, address, and the exact time they had dinner.

Yao Hong noted everything down, then said, “Just focus on your filming. Leave everything else to me. Don’t answer any calls… Actually, don’t answer any calls at all. I’ll coordinate with Wang Xi. We’ll synchronize our statements and try to debunk this rumor as fast as possible, reversing the public opinion.”

Lu Yiyao narrowed his eyes. He was angry, but not at the rumor itself; Yao Hong’s serious approach made him realize the situation might be more complicated. “Ran Lin and I are filming together and staying in the same hotel. How could anyone believe such a nonsensical story?”

There was a moment of silence on the phone before Yao Hong said, “There’s someone behind this.”

Lu Yiyao’s expression slowly turned cold.

Since his debut, he had been subjected to slander and rumors, usually out of jealousy or frustration at losing good opportunities to him. But this time, involving Ran Lin, was especially intolerable for him.

And in the comments, some were accusing Ran Lin of fabricating the story.

Using a scandal that could ruin an acting career for publicity was absurd.

Yao Hong, clearly seeing through the situation, knew both he and Ran Lin were victims, hence her suggestion to coordinate with Wang Xi.

“Can we find out who’s behind it?” Lu Yiyao asked about the instigator.

“For now, we don’t have time for that. Debunking the rumor is the priority,” Yao Hong said calmly. “It’s not a big deal. Just focus on your filming.”

Lu Yiyao looked up at the intricately carved eaves overhead, lost in thought.

“Don’t have any more private contact with Ran Lin for the time being,” Yao Hong added.

Lu Yiyao’s brow furrowed imperceptibly, a hint of displeasure in his voice. “This has nothing to do with him.”

“It does,” Yao Hong replied steadily. “Everyone is watching you two now. Any little thing could be exaggerated and misconstrued. Do you know if there are paparazzi on the set? Do you know which of your words or actions could be taken out of context?”

“I’ll be careful,” Lu Yiyao said.

Yao Hong sighed. “If you could be absolutely discreet, today’s incident wouldn’t have happened.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, no longer speaking.

Yao Hong knew he had taken her words to heart. She understood that while others saw Lu Yiyao as a gentleman with a mild temperament, he was actually someone who could endure and restrain himself. Deep down, he was fiercely indignant, ready to challenge any injustice.

Feeling more empathetic towards him, Yao Hong reassured him softly, “Don’t worry, I’m here. Just do well in this film, and when you rise high enough, these things won’t matter anymore.”

It was a beautiful day, with clear skies and a gentle breeze.

But as Lu Yiyao looked up, all he could see was the red, flaking paint on the eaves.

“Lu Ge?” Li Tong, seeing Lu Yiyao standing still after hanging up the phone, asked worriedly.

“It’s nothing.” Lu Yiyao smiled at his assistant. “I’d like some coffee.”

They were on a film set with only tea available. Wanting coffee meant going out to buy it, and there was no telling how far he’d have to go. But seeing his boss, entangled in a scandal, looking so forlorn, Li Tong didn’t hesitate. “Just a moment, Lu Ge. I’ll get your coffee right away!”

As Li Tong dashed off, Lu Yiyao’s smile faded. By the time he made another call, his expression had turned icy.

Everyone in Group B knew about the scandal involving their leading man. Since it was lunch break, no one wanted to intrude; they all kept their distance, giving Lu Yiyao space under the corner eaves.

“Is five people enough? Mom also saw the news and is really angry. She said not just five people, but fifty could be sent over on a chartered flight for you.”

His sister’s words, spoken in just a few sentences, dispelled much of the anger clouding his heart. Lu Yiyao’s icy demeanor thawed somewhat. “No need. Five is enough. Too many would attract attention, and there are only three of them over there.”

Lu Yimeng was still uneasy. “Are you sure?”

“Sure,” Lu Yiyao said. “They’ve been watching me since I joined the crew. It’s always the same three people, and two of them are old friends who have been with me since the year before last, even longer than my assistant.”

Lu Yimeng frowned. “They really are devoted to you. You’re quite patient.”

“Every profession is tough. We all need to eat. It’s okay as long as there’s a limit,” Lu Yiyao said, pausing. When he looked up again, his eyes had turned cold again. “But this time, they crossed the line.”

……

Though they were both in Hengdian Film and Television Studios, the filming area of Zhang Beichen’s crew and that of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> were far apart, in two completely different scenic areas within the studio. The crew of <Sword of Fallen Flowers> was already resting at noon, while Zhang Beichen’s crew was still busy.

Due to the second female lead, the progress of the crew had been severely slowed down. She was someone the investors had forcefully inserted, and everyone in the crew, though angry, dared not speak out. They could only use their rest time to extend working hours to make up for the lost progress.

Zhang Beichen had hardly had a moment to breathe all morning.

Finally, during a group scene, with more time needed for props and extra coordination, he managed to find a moment to sit on a lounge chair to rest and check his phone, wanting to see if his scandal was still fermenting or if there had been any turnaround.

His face changed as soon as he saw it.

He quickly stood up and moved to a secluded corner, dialing his agent’s phone number at the hotel. As soon as the other side picked up, he didn’t wait for them to speak and asked aggressively, “Was it you who did it?”

Wu Xuefeng seemed prepared and replied naturally, “Yeah, it’s quite effective, isn’t it? See, how many people are still talking about those two lousy photos of yours?”

Zhang Beichen, trying hard to contain his urge to roar, asked, “Why didn’t you tell me before you did it!”

“If I had told you, would it have been done?” Wu Xuefeng asked lightly in return.

Zhang Beichen almost squeezed the words out of his teeth. “They, are, my, friends.”

“I knew you would react this way, so I acted first and reported later,” Wu Xuefeng said calmly, his tone getting lighter, indicating his confidence. “Can friends be eaten as food? What did they do when you were in trouble? Oh right, they sent two insipid condolences and then disappeared. Remember, at any time, the only ones who can help you are yourself and me.”

Zhang Beichen’s chest heaved violently, but he couldn’t find words to refute.

Wu Xuefeng knew his artist well. He could speak harshly, and the harsher and more straightforward he was, the quicker Zhang Beichen understood. But after being harsh, he always offered some comfort. “Don’t worry too much. Such rumors won’t last long with Yao Hong and Wang Xi around. A stir and a denial, and it will soon pass.”

Before Zhang Beichen could respond, Wu Xuefeng brought up another matter. “We found the person who leaked your photos, Li Zimo.”

Zhang Beichen frowned. “Who is that?”

Wu Xuefeng explained, “The one previously with Mr. Qin, who knows he was replaced by you, wasn’t content.”

“He’s crazy.” Zhang Beichen suddenly felt it was an undeserved disaster. “Mr. Qin has a revolving door of people around him. He wasn’t the first, and I won’t be the last. What’s the use of troubling me?”

“He thought he would be the last,” Wu Xuefeng said, surprisingly empathetic.

“Hah.” Zhang Beichen suddenly wanted to meet this foolish person. “Really funny.”

Wu Xuefeng also found it amusing, but only for now. In the future, he always had to find a way to let this little-known but uncooperative young actor continue to fade into obscurity until he couldn’t stay in the entertainment industry anymore.

But for now, it was more important to completely awaken his own artist—

“In this matter, you should also see that Mr. Qin can give you resources, but he can’t help you with troubles. If you become more famous, he’s willing to play with you for a while longer. If you’re like Li Zimo, who can’t be helped, he’ll discard you quickly. So…” Wu Xuefeng’s voice deepened, somewhat earnest. “The only ones who truly want you to succeed and spare no effort to help you are me and yourself.”

Wu Xuefeng listened to the silence on the other end of the phone, slowly sipping tea from a hotel tea bag, which tasted alright.

“Don’t dwell on it. If they really considered you a friend, they wouldn’t suspect you. Even if they did suspect, they wouldn’t find any evidence. Don’t be foolish enough to confess. There’s never been any leniency for honesty in this circle.”

“That’s why you can’t make real friends.” There seemed to be a laugh on the phone, laced with sarcasm, though it was unclear who was being mocked.

The call ended.

Zhang Beichen opened WeChat and found the chat group Chen Sheng Wu Guang. Just a few irrelevant words, he could almost recite them by heart. But he still wanted to see them again.

After an unknown amount of time.

Zhang Beichen exited WeChat and flipped through his contacts to find Ran Lin’s number. Several times, his finger almost touched the call button.

But in the end, when the assistant came to remind him that it was time to start the next scene, he still hadn’t made the call.

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 颜凉雨 / Yan Liang Yu

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

---

Chapter 43

In mid-October, Hengdian finally welcomed autumn. The remnants of the summer heat had faded, and the cold of winter was still far away. It was a time of clear skies and cool breezes.

Xi Ruohan had been with the crew for a month now.

Ran Lin had been avoiding her for about the same time. Unless a scene required them to act together, he kept his distance on set, avoiding appearing within the leading actress’ field of vision. It was obvious that she didn’t like him, and Ran Lin had no desire to throw himself into the line of fire.

Tang Xiaoyu saw this and teased him, saying, “When you play Fang Xian, you’re fearless, but why do you become timid when you return to Earth?”

Ran Lin always laughed it off.

If Xi Ruohan was just a difficult leading actress, Ran Lin wouldn’t have avoided her like this. There are always difficult stars on set, and if you don’t provoke them, they won’t always be out to get you. But the leading actress liked the leading actor. Unfortunately, Ran Lin, playing the second male lead, also liked the leading actor.

Ran Lin always felt that women in love, including those with unrequited love, were very perceptive. They would use high-precision scanning rays on everyone around the person they liked. Ran Lin didn’t think it was necessary to take such a risk.

Fortunately, Xi Ruohan had her own makeup room and was always accompanied by assistants, so she didn’t have much time to bother with him.

But that was before.

Starting tomorrow, the most important scenes between him and Xi Ruohan were about to be filmed.

Ran Lin put down the script he had been studying all night and sighed deeply, feeling an unprecedented pressure.

He could pour his heart out to an imaginary Zhao Buyao, loving until it hurt. But once the face in his mind switched to Xi Ruohan, his love would instantly vanish.

To put it bluntly, Xi Ruohan was like a rival in love for him.

Of course, this relationship was something he could only think about privately. After all, she had pursued Lu Yiyao, and he was still daydreaming here. But privately, they both liked the same man, and now he had to act with full affection towards her, which was both delicate and difficult.

Getting into character was easy to say, but hard to do.

Ran Lin went to the bathroom to wash his face, then returned to bed and picked up the script to read.

After a while, he threw the script onto the bed. The emotionally fluctuating “Fang Xian” began to confess to the void…

……

At the same time, in Lu Yiyao’s room.

Li Tong was packing his boss’s luggage—there was an extremely important event tomorrow, which had been scheduled a long time ago, so Yao Hong had requested leave for her artist in advance when preparing to join the crew.

Yao Hong, who had just arrived from Beijing that day, looked tired but still talked spiritedly with Lu Yiyao, as they hadn’t seen each other for half a month. After filming started, Yao Hong left first. As Lu Yiyao’s agent, she had many things to deal with and couldn’t stay away for the five-month shooting.

Li Tong kept her informed of everything happening on set. But hearing reports and communicating face-to-face with the person involved were different.

“Is Xi Ruohan really that honest?” This was Yao Hong’s most pressing concern.

Lu Yiyao smiled bitterly. “Really very honest. She gets up at five every morning to do makeup, doesn’t rest until eight at night, and sometimes even later. Even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t have the energy.”

“That’s good.” Yao Hong was, for the first time, happy with the high intensity of the set. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Lu Yiyao assured her naturally, “Don’t worry. I know my limits.”

Lu Yiyao’s assurance didn’t comfort Yao Hong. Maybe because he answered too smoothly, she started to overthink.

After a moment of silence, she spoke again, more seriously than before. “Whether it’s Xi Ruohan or other female artists, your fans will find it hard to accept a relationship at this stage, so you must be very careful about romance.”

Lu Yiyao looked helplessly at his agent and hit the nail on the head. “Just say outright that I’m forbidden from dating.”

Yao Hong smiled. “I didn’t want to put it that way in case you found it offensive.”

“It’s indeed not pleasant to hear.” Lu Yiyao forced a smile, partly complaining but mostly understanding. “But I know the pros and cons, and I understand you’re thinking of my future.”

Yao Hong nodded with relief. “When your talent surpasses your popularity, I won’t even interfere if you get married tomorrow.”

Lu Yiyao joked, “Yao Hong, I’m only twenty-five.”

Yao Hong was taken aback, then uncertainly asked, “Isn’t your birthday next week?”

Lu Yiyao’s birthday was something Yao Hong wouldn’t forget, as every year various fan groups and artists in the circle would send their blessings.

“Externally, I celebrate my solar birthday, but at home, we’re used to following the lunar calendar, so starting this week, I’m already twenty-five*,” Lu Yiyao explained, showing Yao Hong a photo of a beautiful cake on his phone.

*Clarity: Without going into too much detail, the solar (Gregorian) calendar is calculated as 365 days a year, while the lunar calendar is roughly about 354 days a year. Thus, going by the lunar calendar, one’s birthday date can vary each year (so it can be earlier or later than your solar birthday date).

It was a three-tiered fondant cake with a base of light macaron blue, decorated with classic but not overly complex lace, topped with a small house with a family of four standing in front, hand in hand, happy together.

“My sister made it herself,” Lu Yiyao said, with a hint of pride.

Yao Hong knew about Lu Yiyao’s family background. His parents were divorced, he had a sister, and both parents’ businesses were thriving. But she also knew Lu Yiyao didn’t like talking about his family, so the fact that he brought it up today meant he was in a rare good mood.

“It’s beautiful,” Yao Hong sincerely complimented. “Did she send it to the set?”

Lu Yiyao sighed. “No, she thought it would be too much trouble to transport and said it was enough for me to just see it.”

Yao Hong couldn’t help but chuckle. “What a good sister.”

Lu Yiyao put away his phone, slightly helpless but mostly doting. “Yeah.”

……

Ran Lin had a restless night. His dreams were filled with the tangled love and disputes between Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao. When he was woken up in the morning by his phone’s alarm, he found his blanket lying quietly on the floor, not knowing when he had kicked it off during the night.

Lu Yiyao had taken the day off, so the entire day was filled with scenes between Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan. Arriving on set, Ran Lin realized that the screenwriter, Song Mang, was there. This was his first time seeing the talented writer on set after a month of filming.

It had been over a month since their last meeting. Song Mang’s attire had shifted from summer to autumn wear. What remained unchanged was his love for bright colors. Last time it was colorful beach shorts, this time an orange baseball jacket. He sat in a corner of the set, easily noticeable.

After Ran Lin finished makeup and styling, while the lighting and sound were still being adjusted, he took the opportunity to greet the screenwriter: “Writer Song.”

This was also Song Mang’s first time seeing Ran Lin in full costume. He looked him up and down and seemed quite satisfied: “Not bad. You really do have a bit of Fang Xian’s charismatic aura.”

“Having filmed for a month, if I still couldn’t get the feel of it, I’d be letting you and Director Chen down,” Ran Lin responded politely, secretly pleased inside. After all, everyone loves to hear praises, but Director Chen was stingy with compliments. So, for Ran Lin, who was eager for affirmation, Song Mang seemed to shine brilliantly in front of him.

Song Mang wanted to say more, but as he opened his mouth, his eyes suddenly flickered and then fixed behind Ran Lin, followed by an almost inaudible sigh.

Ran Lin turned to follow his gaze, realizing that Xi Ruohan, now in costume, had appeared.

Ran Lin suddenly understood that the screenwriter was still resentful about being forced to intensify the romantic subplot. He also figured out why Song Mang was present today—although the romantic storyline was already set and he had modified the script himself, reluctant creative work always leaves one uneasy. Naturally, he wanted to see the final effect.

“How do you think these scenes are?” Song Mang suddenly asked.

Ran Lin knew the screenwriter was actually longing to hear a positive response; otherwise, he would only be more troubled. Ran Lin replied objectively, “Speaking of the romance, it’s actually quite touching. Moreover, it intensifies the conflict and emotional depth later between Fang Xian and Tang Jingyu.”

Song Mang raised an eyebrow. “So you also think the romantic storyline should be emphasized?”

After pondering, Ran Lin said, “There is no first in literature and no second in martial arts*. I quite agree with this saying. I don’t think there’s an absolute which line is better than another. <Sword of Fallen Flowers> itself is emotionally heavy, so whether it’s highlighting the romance or focusing on brotherhood, as long as we can bring out everything the script wants to express, we can definitely move the audience.”

*(文无第一，武无第二) Proverb that refers to in some area of life, like arts and literature, comparison and rankings aren’t as straightforward or meaningful as they are in sports or martial arts, where competition can clearly declare a winner.

Song Mang looked at him intently for a while, then suddenly remarked with a sigh. “This is the most comforting answer I’ve heard in a month.”

Ran Lin was surprised, thinking how many people the screenwriter must have complained to and sought comments from.

But a dedicated screenwriter is always particularly attached to their work. This, Ran Lin understood.

After a brief chat, Song Mang casually asked, “Today it’s all about you two. How’s the emotional development?”

Ran Lin was at a loss for words. This question hit right at the heart of the matter.

Fortunately, the director’s assistant came over to announce the start of filming, and Ran Lin quickly excused himself from the screenwriter and headed straight for the camera.

However, once filming actually started, Ran Lin realized he could avoid Song Mang’s question, but Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao’s performance under the camera couldn’t deceive anyone.

This was a scene where he confessed to Zhao Buyao and was rejected. However, it wasn’t the usual heart-wrenching confession followed by a tearful rejection. It was an extremely gentle scene—The spring breeze for ten miles isn’t as good as you*.

*It’s an expression that has a romantic undertone, often used to express deep affection and admiration for someone. In this case, Fang Xian expressing his love for Zhao Buyao, referring to her as more precious and delightful than a cherished aspect of nature (spring breeze).

By a lakeside, with a green tree on the shore, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan were carefully helped onto a thick tree branch, sitting side by side. Under the tree, outside of the camera’s view, thick crash pads were laid out.

As the clapperboard snapped shut, “Fang Xian” gently turned his head, secretly gazing at “Zhao Buyao”, who was looking into the distance.

A wind machine gently rustled the leaves, also lifting Zhao Buyao’s hair.

Ran Lin looked at Xi Ruohan’s profile, trying to make his gaze as soft as possible, and even softer…

“Cut!”

From a distance, the director, watching behind the monitor, used a walkie-talkie to explain to the second male lead why he called cut. “You need to look at Zhao Buyao tenderly, that’s fine, but in that tenderness, there needs to be affection, love. The camera will focus on your eyes. If you were sitting here, you’d see that your gaze is fixed, emotionless, not shimmering or surging…”

In fact, the moment the director called cut, Ran Lin knew where the problem lay, but he still listened attentively to the director’s words, memorizing every one.

He had expected Xi Ruohan to kick him while he was down, or at least give him a mocking look, but she kept her gaze fixed on the lake the whole time, appearing serious, as if too preoccupied with channeling Zhao Buyao’s feelings for Fang Xian to listen to the director’s guidance to the second male lead.

The clapperboard snapped again, starting the second take.

Ran Lin lowered his eyes, thinking about how he, if he were to sit next to Lu Yiyao, wanting but not daring to confess, would look at him secretly…

Gently lifting his eyelids, he stole another glance. In Fang Xian’s originally gentle gaze, complex emotions slowly surfaced.

There was liking, heart-fluttering, cherishing, and timidity…

“I wonder how Tang Jingyu is doing now.” The oblivious Zhao Buyao gazed into the distance, sighing softly. “I should have gone with him to the Bodhi Temple.”

“Abbot Hai Kong of the Bodhi Temple is highly skilled in martial arts. Jingyu won’t be in danger there,” Fang Xian replied casually.

Zhao Buyao turned back, looking anxious. “I’m worried that Tang Jingyu might be in danger on the way and not even make it to the Bodhi Temple. He was going to send a message; those in black won’t let him easily reach the temple.”

Zhao Buyao’s face showed only concern for Tang Jingyu.

But Fang Xian’s eyes were filled with complex emotions.

“Buyao.” Fang Xian suddenly called out softly.

Zhao Buyao was startled and looked at him, puzzled.

Fang Xian suddenly smiled gently, softly saying, “You like Jingyu, don’t you?”

Zhao Buyao looked into Fang Xian’s eyes, clearly feeling the sorrow there, and suddenly forgot her lines.

“Cut!”

The director, frustrated, called cut.

Xi Ruohan came back to her senses, still somewhat bewildered, but was the first to apologize. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

This was for the director and for the entire crew, whose time had been wasted.

Although Xi Ruohan’s reputation in personal relationships was complicated, her professionalism in her work was consistent. This was why numerous producers and directors were willing to work with her—she was good at her job, professional, didn’t delay the shooting schedule, and didn’t make unreasonable demands that could disrupt filming. Her personality might have been a bit difficult, but everyone was there to work, not to make friends. Delivering work on time and with quality was enough to relieve the producers and directors.

However, today, Xi Ruohan’s NGs were unusually frequent.

Just as Ran Lin’s emotions were getting into the groove, her feelings couldn’t be found.

The director, having no other choice, called for a half-hour break, letting the staff help the two actors down to rehearse their lines together and foster the right emotions. Fang Xian’s confession was an important turning point in the emotional storyline of the play. From this point on, Zhao Buyao would realize her feelings for Tang Jingyu, setting the tone for the development of the emotional storyline later on.

Such a crucial scene wasn’t something the director wanted to rush.

The wind blew by the lakeside, rustling the green grass.

Xi Ruohan’s light-colored gauze skirt was gently lifted by the breeze.

Xi Ruohan looked at the script with a heavy expression, as if what lay on the paper wasn’t a confession scene but a scene of sacrifice.

Ran Lin sighed and spoke up. “Stop looking at the script. Look at me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned and finally lifted her head from the script, her tone a bit irritable. “What’s so good about looking at you?”

Ran Lin knew this wasn’t directed at him personally, but rather Xi Ruohan was struggling with herself.

As a fellow actor, he understood the frustration of not being able to get into character.

“It’s not about looking at me. It’s about seeing Fang Xian. If you can’t see me as entirely Fang Xian, this scene won’t work.”

His direct words made Xi Ruohan struggle to save face. “I don’t need you to teach me how to act.”

Ran Lin calmly replied, “I’m not teaching you how to act. I’m asking you.”

Xi Ruohan was puzzled. “Asking me what?”

Ran Lin tilted his head to look at her. “Asking you to fall in love with me.”

Xi Ruohan frowned. “I love Tang Jingyu.”

Ran Lin: “But you also have to like Fang Xian—the pure friendship kind of liking. It’s because you like this friend that when you reject him, it’s hard for you.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin quietly for two seconds, then let out a heavy sigh. “It’s really hard to get into character with you.”

Ran Lin nodded solemnly. “I understand. I feel the same.”

Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin incredulously, wondering if she had heard him wrong. She knew many colleagues talked about her behind her back, but Ran Lin was definitely the first to confront her face-to-face.

Then he continued to add fuel to the fire. “If I were Fang Xian, I wouldn’t fall in love with you. Xu Chongfei has good taste. Li’er is so quirky, gentle, and young…”

“Hey, that’s enough…” Xi Ruohan’s face darkened, unable to maintain her composure.

Ran Lin suddenly laughed, looking towards the lake with a distant gaze. At that moment, he wasn’t Ran Lin, but Fang Xian. “But you are brave, passionate, and pure. The first time I saw you at the righteous mansion, you were dressed in aqua, cold as the moon, yet fiery in temperament. I thought then, this girl has grown up too pretty, prickly and poisonous, untouchable.”

Xi Ruohan stared blankly at his profile, unable to distinguish who he was at that moment, and her own identity became muddled. “Then you still later…”

“Love is like that. The more you want to avoid it, the more you can’t escape. The more you want to stay away from someone, the more entangled you become.” Ran Lin turned back, looking at Xi Ruohan as if he were looking at someone else. “So I won’t run anymore. I accept it. I admit that I have fallen for you. No matter what response you give me, just being able to like you has made me very happy.”

The wind rose along the riverbank.

Not from a wind machine, but a real, gentle autumn breeze.

“I’m sorry.” Xi Ruohan looked at Ran Lin, her voice light and bitter. “I like Tang Jingyu…”

“It doesn’t matter who it is.” Ran Lin smiled softly, lightly touching her hair. “I just wish you happiness.”

Xi Ruohan’s eyes reddened.

At that moment, she couldn’t differentiate between the play and reality.

……

The half-hour of fostering feelings was surprisingly effective. Even the director hadn’t expected that after he called “action” again, the two actors would smoothly enter their character’s emotions.

Chen Qizheng remained stern but was inwardly satisfied.

This is what good actors are. They may not necessarily be exceptionally spirited, but having the right attitude, willing to work hard, and what’s more rare, being quick to understand and brighten up, making fast and accurate adjustments to problems.

Song Mang was even more pleasantly surprised.

He had come to observe these few emotional scenes with a resigned mindset, but, unexpectedly, he was moved, almost feeling the urge to go back to his hotel and write Fang Xian and Zhao Buyao into a relationship.

Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan’s delicacy in emotional expression and control over emotional tension far exceeded his expectations, making him look forward even more to the emotional scenes between Tang Jingyu and Zhao Buyao, as well as the scene where Tang Jingyu and Fang Xian become adversaries.

Alright, if he had to choose one, he was more looking forward to the adversarial scenes.

Ran Lin hadn’t expected things to go so smoothly later on. He was the first to get into character, but once in character, Xi Ruohan really did further drive the emotions of her counterpart, to the point that he almost couldn’t step out of being Fang Xian for the entire afternoon.

The leading actress was also unable to step out of character.

That night, back at the hotel, Xi Ruohan went online to watch an episode of <Yun Zhang>, choosing the scene where Lu Yiyao, playing the male lead, confessed to her, the female lead.

It was that day she fell in love with Lu Yiyao.

Even now, she still remembered the feelings from that scene.

But the problem was, she experienced the same feelings today.

If it weren’t for having to stick to the script, she might have impulsively agreed to Fang Xian.

Yes, she was sure that it was Fang Xian in the play she had fallen for, not Ran Lin, because she deliberately waited until Ran Lin had removed his makeup and found that the palpitations she felt towards Fang Xian had disappeared.

This realization brought her comfort, but also unrest.

Because she found that “Lu Yiyao” and “Yun Zhang”, the two images that had overlapped in her mind, were slowly separating.

Not only separating, but also an additional “Tang Jingyu” appeared out of nowhere.

Yet her feelings weren’t divided into three parts; they were still tied to “Yun Zhang”, gradually distancing from the two men, “Lu Yiyao” and “Tang Jingyu”.

……

[How was the scene with your scene partner today?]

[Everything went smoothly.]

Lu Yiyao, who had just finished a schedule and was on his way back on the high-speed train, looked at the WeChat message from his friend with a mix of belief and disbelief. When he and Ran Lin filmed their first scene together, they were already friends who frequently contacted each other through WeChat, and even then, it took them a while to find their rhythm. During the past month of filming, Ran Lin and Xi Ruohan had practically no interaction, and even if they appeared in the same scenes, it was mostly in group scenes. It seemed very likely they would struggle to find their state.

[I am masterful and dashing in the role. Just doing a confession scene, how hard can it be? 😎]

Lu Yiyao chuckled—[You’re overacting.]

Reading the message, Ran Lin could almost hear Lu Yiyao’s tone, and it made him feel a bit ticklish inside—[What time will you arrive?]

[It’ll probably be past midnight.]

[Can you get up at 5 a.m. tomorrow?]

[Don’t worry, I once managed with only two hours of sleep over three days.]

[And then you fainted and missed the Thailand curry trip.]

[A true hero doesn’t dwell on the past.]

Ran Lin, who was just drinking water, almost spat it out. He couldn’t even bother typing and directly sent a voice message. “What kind of hero is that!”

Lu Yiyao played it immediately, listening and laughing.

Yao Hong, sitting next to him, recognized the voice immediately. “Ran Lin?”

Lu Yiyao hummed in affirmation.

Yao Hong nodded but didn’t say much more.

Over the years she had managed Lu Yiyao, she rarely saw him truly make friends in the industry. Sometimes, when she saw other male artists showing off their friendships, boosting each other’s popularity, and attracting fans together, she wished Lu Yiyao could find one or two friends like that. But Lu Yiyao wasn’t the kind to warm up easily. Sometimes, when other male artists tried to get close to him and found his response lukewarm, they would also lose interest.

Her artist had seen too much of the industry, and when you see too much, things lose their excitement.

The night view outside the train window was a blur, making it hard to tell where they were. Yao Hong, bored, plugged in her headphones, intending to listen to some music. But she noticed a WeChat group message notification that had been there for half an hour. The message was from a colleague group that she often muted because it was too active. Sometimes she would check it out when she was free, but now someone in the group had mentioned her.

Yao Hong curiously clicked in and found the mention. It wasn’t just her being mentioned, but a whole string of people—basically two-thirds of the group members. Usually, this method meant someone was about to share gossip, calling out everyone to join the fun.

Colleagues in the industry were always eager for a juicy story.

There were three Weibo screenshots. The first was from a well-known marketing account with a sensational title: Shocking! Old high school photos of Zhang Beichen unearthed. His first love is also a handsome guy?!

The other two screenshots were zoomed-in photos. One showed two boys, arms over each other’s shoulders, grinning at the camera. In the other, they were still arm-in-arm, but one was pretending to kiss the other’s face, captured just before the kiss. The one being kissed was making a funny face at the camera, as if expecting the kiss but also seemingly unaware of it.

Zhang Beichen was the one making the funny face.

The photo quality wasn’t high, and it looked like a selfie taken with a phone. Both boys were still young, wearing high school uniforms.

In half an hour, hundreds of messages had flooded the group chat.

Most were speculating whether Zhang Beichen was gay, and a few were snickering that Wu Xuefeng would now have a headache.

Wu Xuefeng generally had a mixed reputation among his peers, often described as a smiling tiger with deep schemes.

In this industry, no agent was innocent; everyone had their ways and strategies, all hoping to push their artists to the pinnacle of success. But Wu Xuefeng was known for being more unscrupulous than others, hence his poor reputation.

Was Zhang Beichen really gay?

Yao Hong thought that these two photos alone weren’t enough proof.

Zhang Beichen’s team could easily dismiss it as youthful frivolity—just two good friends taking silly photos. Who hasn’t been young and reckless?

The real concern was if these photos were released by someone with an agenda, possibly with more to come.

Or, if the other person in the photos came forward to clarify.

Yao Hong opened Weibo and searched for Zhang Beichen. Sure enough, the photos were spreading like wildfire, with the narrative becoming more and more detailed, almost piecing together a tragic high school love story.

The comments were divided into three groups: pure fans who refused to believe and accused the marketing accounts of slandering their idol; onlookers who were just there for the drama, waiting for further developments; and a group, possibly fans or onlookers, who were keen detectives, analyzing even the micro-expressions in the photos, determined to uncover the truth behind them.

So far, Zhang Beichen hadn’t responded.

Someone was stirring the pot—Yao Hong glanced at the public opinion and the most forwarded posts, and she had her suspicions.

Maybe Zhang Beichen had offended someone, or perhaps he was blocking someone’s path, so someone wanted to target him.

This was all too common in the industry.

Some never recover from such a scandal, while others turn it around.

But these were not Yao Hong’s concerns.

She looked at Lu Yiyao, who seemed totally engrossed in his phone, probably chatting up a storm. Yao Hong sighed and gently pushed his phone screen down.

Lu Yiyao looked up, eyebrows raised in question.

Yao Hong asked directly, “What’s your relationship with Zhang Beichen?”

Lu Yiyao was puzzled and put down his phone for a moment. “Just so-so. Why suddenly ask this?”

Yao Hong didn’t answer directly but thought for a moment. “Isn’t he also filming in Hengdian now?”

“Yes,” Lu Yiyao replied. “We even had late-night snacks together when he first joined the crew.”

“Just the two of you?” Yao Hong frowned.

“No, it was with Ran Lin; the three of us ate together,” Lu Yiyao explained honestly. “After all, we were on a reality show together.”

Yao Hong asked, “Is Ran Lin on good terms with him?”

Lu Yiyao thought about the situation during the late-night snack they had together and said, “It’s alright, I guess. Better than with me, but I didn’t feel they were particularly close. Ran Lin gets along with everyone, so it looks like he’s good with everyone, but that’s not necessarily the case.”

Yao Hong was exasperated. “I was just asking casually. You don’t have to keep explaining for Ran Lin.”

Lu Yiyao spread his hands innocently. “I’m just telling the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just avoid meeting him for now,” Yao Hong advised cautiously.

Lu Yiyao felt a pang of concern. “Ran Lin? But we still have scenes together.”

Yao Hong held her forehead, almost grinding her teeth. “Zhang Beichen.”

Lu Yiyao fell silent, squinting at Yao Hong. After a while, he asked softly, “Did he get into trouble?”

Originally, Yao Hong wouldn’t have shared the gossip with Lu Yiyao since it didn’t concern him, as each agency should only worry about its own artists. But after this series of questions, she couldn’t be at ease anymore and decided to show Lu Yiyao the Weibo post.

Lu Yiyao scrolled through several posts and read the comments carefully.

In the end, he looked up and said straightforwardly to Yao Hong, “Someone’s smearing him.”

“How can you be so sure?” Yao Hong, although she had the same judgment, was unsettled by Lu Yiyao’s definitive defense of Zhang Beichen. “Maybe he really is gay.”

Lu Yiyao realized Yao Hong had misunderstood him and smiled wryly. “I didn’t say he isn’t. Whether he is or not, this matter is someone targeting him. I don’t believe you can’t see that.”

Yao Hong rolled her eyes. “If I couldn’t see what you can, how would I manage you?”

Lu Yiyao looked at Weibo again and sighed. “Zhang Beichen must be in a mess right now.”

“If there’s no follow-up, it’s easier to handle.” Yao Hong pulled her phone back from Lu Yiyao. “Let’s see how Wu Xuefeng deals with it.”

Lu Yiyao didn’t speak, lost in thought as he looked out the window.

After pondering for a while, Yao Hong still asked softly, “Is Zhang Beichen really…?”

The question from his agent made Lu Yiyao recall the late-night snack they had. He felt Zhang Beichen’s sexual orientation was questionable, but there was still no concrete evidence, and intuition was always a mysterious thing.

“Hard to say.” Lu Yiyao finally gave a responsible answer.

……

Ran Lin only learned about Zhang Beichen’s trouble the next day at noon while scrolling through his phone during lunch. His first reaction was to call his agent, Wang Xi, to see if she knew the inside story, but to his surprise, she was unaware of Zhang Beichen’s situation. Ran Lin explained the situation to her, and Wang Xi’s reaction was indifferent, as it wasn’t her artist’s affair. She only advised Ran Lin to steer clear of Zhang Beichen for the time being, given the sensitive nature of the scandal.

Ran Lin, of course, understood the implications, but he couldn’t help but be curious about the situation.

The Weibo hot searches had already cycled through several rounds, but it was still the same two photos being circulated, and the direction and intensity of public opinion seemed abnormal.

Lu Yiyao, who had been observing the whole time, knew Ran Lin was concerned about his friend, but at such times, only Zhang Beichen’s team could help him. Ran Lin, despite his concern, was unable to assist.

By evening, worried that Ran Lin was still preoccupied with the matter, Lu Yiyao invited him and Tang Xiaoyu for dinner at a nearby restaurant.

Tang Xiaoyu had realized by then that Lu Yiyao and Ran Lin were genuinely good friends, and he was just tagging along. But since Lu Yiyao had invited him, he was happy to accompany them for a meal.

The three male celebrities, although conspicuous, went out late at night when it was less noticeable.

Lu Yiyao chose a small restaurant near the hotel, within walking distance. It was a rare opportunity for the three of them to get together in the evening.

“Toasting with tea instead of wine, I first toast to my big brothers.” Tang Xiaoyu stood up to start the meal in the private room. “Soon we’ll be adversaries in the drama, so I’m here to ask for mercy in advance.”

Ran Lin laughed, raising his cup to clink with Tang Xiaoyu. “I’ll be using a sword.”

Lu Yiyao joined in. “Me too.”

Tang Xiaoyu was baffled. “It makes sense for Fang Xian to use a sword, but your weapon is a flying knife!”

Lu Yiyao tilted his head. “But later I used a flying sword.”

Tang Xiaoyu paused.

Ran Lin, trying not to laugh, reminded, “The Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual is not just any sword manual; it’s also a manual for hidden weapons. In the end, Tang Jingyu learns it.”

Tang Xiaoyu remembered, “In the final part of the script, you effortlessly decipher the secrets of the Sword of Fallen Flowers Manual. In the final battle with the Liuhua Palace, you release a short sword from the shadows, eliminating the biggest villain.”

“Under the halo of the protagonist, I can only admire,” Tang Xiaoyu conceded and downed his drink.

The dinner started cheerfully.

Lu Yiyao thought it was wise to invite Tang Xiaoyu, but about a third of the way through their casual conversation, Tang Xiaoyu suddenly brought up, “Have you guys heard about Zhang Beichen’s situation?”

Lu Yiyao wished he could stuff a bun in his mouth.

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