Li Chenzhou’s “visit” was like a sudden cold current, completely freezing the originally relaxed and cozy atmosphere of the Pastoral Song production team.
For the next few days of filming, everyone walked as if on thin ice, being extremely cautious for fear of making any untimely noise that might incur the displeasure of the “iceberg investor” sitting behind the monitor.
Lin Yang felt even more like he was sitting on pins and needles. He felt as though he were being roasted under a spotlight; every expression, every movement, and even his normal interactions with Tian Rui and Guo Huai seemed to be infinitely magnified under Li Chenzhou’s icy scrutiny.
He tried his best to minimize his presence, burying his head in his work and speaking much less than before.
Li Chenzhou did not stay long, leaving the next afternoon with Cheng Wei and the others. However, the low pressure he brought lingered, as if his gaze were still watching everything through those cold machines.
Director Zhang Ming became noticeably more cautious. Several originally designed interaction segments—interesting but perhaps slightly “out of line” were quietly cancelled or modified. The filming became formulaic, losing much of its initial spark.
Lin Yang felt an inexplicable fire of anger smoldering in his heart, yet he had nowhere to vent it. He knew this was the effect Li Chenzhou wanted: using invisible shackles to remind him who the true master was.
On the fifth day of filming, a water-based activity was arranged. The guests were to take the villagers’ old-style wooden boats to the island in the middle of the lake to pick a unique type of aquatic wild vegetable.
The lake beside Yunxi Village was crystal clear, surrounded by green mountains, and the scenery was breathtaking. The weather was perfect, with sunlight spilling over the lake surface in shimmering ripples.
The guests put on life jackets and, under the guidance of the villagers, boarded several small wooden boats in pairs. Lin Yang was paired with Tian Rui. Being naturally lively, she sat at the bow, excitedly paddling the water with her hands, her laughter ringing out like silver bells.
Lin Yang sat at the stern. Looking at the picturesque scenery before him, his nerves, which had been tense for days, finally relaxed a little.
As the boat reached the center of the lake, the water turned a deeper hue, resembling a giant piece of jade. The villagers demonstrated how to identify and pick the wild vegetables with slender leaves.
Lin Yang leaned out to reach a cluster not far from the boat. His movements were somewhat hurried; he wanted to complete the task as quickly as possible to end this uncomfortable recording session.
Just then, an accident occurred.
Tian Rui shifted slightly at the bow. The small boat was already light and nimble, and it immediately began to rock. Lin Yang already had more than half of his body leaning out, and his center of gravity was unstable. Caught off guard by the sudden lurch, his feet slipped. With a startled cry, he toppled backward and fell into the lake with a loud splash!
The icy lake water instantly enveloped him. Water rushed into his nose and mouth, causing a fit of violent coughing and a sense of suffocation. Although he actually knew how to swim, the moment he hit the water, he still thrashed his limbs in panic.
“Ah! Brother Lin Yang!” Tian Rui screamed in terror from the boat.
People on the shore and in other boats instantly fell into chaos. Shouts and cries of alarm broke out everywhere. Director Zhang Ming turned pale, shouting into his walkie-talkie, “Lifeguards! Quick! Get in the water!”
However, someone was faster than the trained lifeguards!
In the second after Lin Yang fell and sent up a massive splash, a dark figure—like a lithe cheetah—bolted from an inconspicuous observation point on the shore. Moving at a speed almost too fast for the eye to follow, the figure swept past the panicked crowd and, without the slightest hesitation, dove straight into the water!
Splash!
Another sound of entering water, this one deeper and more powerful than Lin Yang’s!
Everyone was stunned, including Lin Yang, who was struggling to stabilize himself in the water and preparing to swim back to the boat on his own. He wiped the water from his face and looked in astonishment at the figure swimming rapidly toward him.
It was Li Chenzhou!
Why was he here? Hadn’t he left yesterday?
Li Chenzhou was an excellent swimmer. His movements were precise and swift, reaching Lin Yang’s side in just a few strokes. His face was paler and more tense than ever before, his thin lips pressed into a hard, cold line. Deep in his eyes swirled a kind of near-manic panic and ruthlessness.
He didn’t give Lin Yang any time to react, nor did he ask if he was okay. He simply extended a powerful arm, wrapped it around Lin Yang’s chest from behind in a textbook rescue maneuver, locked him tight, and without hesitation dragged him toward the shore.
Lin Yang was completely dazed. He could clearly feel that the strength of Li Chenzhou’s arm across his chest was staggering so tight it almost made it hard to breathe, even bordering on painful.
The lake water was freezing, but Li Chenzhou’s chest pressed against his back was terrifyingly hot. That frantic heartbeat thudded against his spine through their soaked clothing, fast and chaotic, having completely lost its usual steady rhythm.
“I… I can swim…” Lin Yang tried to explain, his voice raspy from swallowing water and nerves.
But Li Chenzhou seemed not to hear him at all. His entire focus was concentrated on bringing Lin Yang back to shore at the fastest possible speed. His jaw was set tight, the profile of his face as sharp and cold as if carved by a knife, exuding a sense of desperate resolve.
By then, the lifeguards had jumped in and were swimming over, but seeing that Li Chenzhou already had the person under control and was bringing him back quickly, they could only flank them as escorts.
The short distance of a few dozen meters felt like an eternity.
Once they reached the shore, Li Chenzhou didn’t even let go of Lin Yang. Instead, he swept him up into a horizontal carry! The movement was so dominant it brooked no resistance.
“Put me down! I can walk myself!” Lin Yang was both shocked and embarrassed, struggling and whispering his protest.
The gazes of everyone around them were focused on them, filled with shock, curiosity, and disbelief. Li Chenzhou, however, was deaf to it all. He held Lin Yang tightly, stroking toward the temporary rest area with long strides.
He was soaked through. His short black hair dripped water incessantly, sliding down his well-defined jaw and splashing onto Lin Yang’s face, a cold sensation that carried a fleeting illusion of heat.
Lin Yang was forced to lean against his chest, so close he could count the man’s wet eyelashes.
He could see the muscles in Li Chenzhou’s tight jaw trembling slightly and feel those powerful arms holding him, unexpectedly shivering with an almost imperceptible tremor.
He’s trembling?
This realization struck Lin Yang’s chaotic mind like a bolt of lightning.
Li Chenzhou was… afraid?
But why?
It was only an accidental fall into the water, and he clearly knew how to swim; there was never any real danger to his life. Why was Li Chenzhou’s reaction so intense? Intense to the point of losing his typical composure?
This was not at all the man in his memory, the one who was always calm and self-possessed, remaining unfazed even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.
Li Chenzhou carried Lin Yang all the way into the resting tent, placing him carefully onto a cushioned recliner. His movements even carried a gentleness that was completely at odds with his temperament.
However, he immediately straightened up and barked a harsh command at the production team’s accompanying doctor, who had rushed over upon hearing the news: “Check him!”
His voice was hoarse and low, carrying a lingering ferocity and a command that brooked no argument.
The doctor shuddered in fear and hurriedly stepped forward to examine Lin Yang.
Li Chenzhou stood to the side, dripping wet like a cold, malevolent deity. His gaze was fixed deathly on the doctor and Lin Yang, as if he would overturn the entire lake the moment any problem was found.
Tian Rui, Guo Huai, and the others huddled outside the tent, not daring to enter, their faces etched with worry and lingering fear. Bai Lu stood at the edge of the crowd, her gaze complex as she watched Li Chenzhou’s unprecedented state of nervousness inside the tent.
Lin Yang allowed the doctor to examine him, but his eyes involuntarily followed Li Chenzhou.
He watched the soaked shirt clinging to the man’s solid chest, outlining the smooth lines of his muscles. He saw the water dripping from the tips of his hair, his still-pale complexion, his tightly pursed thin lips, and those bottomless eyes that clearly held remnants of being shaken.
His heart skipped a beat, uncontrollably.
A brand-new, extremely complex emotion began to wind its way around his heart like a vine. It was confusion, shock, and a tiny sliver of, a subtle throb that he didn’t even dare to admit to himself.
This man, just what was he…
The doctor finished the examination and breathed a sigh of relief, saying to Li Chenzhou, “President Li, Mr. Lin only choked on a few mouthfuls of water and suffered a bit of a fright. There are no major issues with his body; he just needs some rest.”
Li Chenzhou’s tense body relaxed for a fraction of a second, but his gaze remained sharp. He waved his hand, signaling the doctor and everyone else to leave.
Only the two of them remained in the tent.
The air was damp, cold, and quiet, save for their slightly hurried breathing.
Li Chenzhou stood in place, unmoving and silent. He just looked down at Lin Yang with a heavy gaze, as if he wanted to pull the younger man into himself.
Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, Lin Yang subconsciously curled inward, clutching the dry towel a staff member had handed him. He whispered, “Thank you.”
Li Chenzhou’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He seemed to want to say something, but in the end, he only let out a soft, suppressed sound from deep in his throat.
He turned and walked to the tent entrance, stopping with his back toward Lin Yang. His broad back, outlined by the wet shirt, still carried an indescribable sense of tension.
“Change your clothes and go back to the residence to rest.”
He dropped those words in a voice that was still raspy but carried an air of finality. Then, he lifted the tent flap and strode out.
Lin Yang watched his departing figure and reached up to touch the moisture on his face, unable to tell if it was lake water or something else.
Where his fingertips touched his skin, it felt slightly burning.