At noon, He Zheng saw Wei Zhenye off at the airport, then returned to the set to continue filming.
As soon as he stepped down from the trailer, he saw Li Ru chatting and laughing with a man. The man had his back to him, wearing a sharp suit, hands casually in his pockets, standing in a relaxed, arrogant posture. Who else could it be but Yang Cheng.
Li Ru spotted He Zheng from afar and waved. Yang Cheng turned around with her, smiling at him as if nothing had happened the night before.
He Zheng only glanced at them, ignored both, and turned straight into the makeup room.
There were no scenes requiring female styling that afternoon. The makeup artist was that sour-faced slender guy again, still acting like He Zheng owed him money. He was cold and sarcastic the whole time, and when putting on the wig, he wasn’t careful. It went crooked. As he took it off to redo it, a hand from the side grabbed it.
“I’ll do it.”
Hearing the familiar voice, He Zheng frowned and turned back. Yang Cheng pressed a hand on his head, making him face the mirror, carefully putting the wig back on while casually starting a conversation.
“I drank too much last night. I didn’t say anything I shouldn’t have, did I?”
He Zheng had no interest in talking to him and replied flatly, “No.”
“Don’t be mad. I just think you’re too cold. It wasn’t easy for Xiao Wei to pursue you.”
Yang Cheng didn’t care about He Zheng’s reaction and continued, “And the way he pursued you was pretty dumb too. Eight years—anyone else would’ve succeeded long ago, right?”
There was nothing factually wrong with what he said, but it still made He Zheng uncomfortable. He replied bluntly, “If you’ve got nothing better to do, go chat with Li Ru or something. Don’t hang around me.”
Yang Cheng smiled and, as if performing a trick, pulled out a cup of coffee from behind his back and set it in front of He Zheng. He even explained it slowly and carefully: “I went to two different shops to get it. Americano. Less ice. One extra shot.”
He Zheng’s eyebrows knit together. This was exactly how he used to drink his coffee. How did Yang Cheng know?
As if reading his thoughts, Yang Cheng smiled even more openly. “Every time Xiao Wei finishes writing a letter, he asks me to help check it. I know a lot about your preferences.”
The tone was unbearably suggestive.
He Zheng felt an indescribable sense of discomfort. It wasn’t that Yang Cheng remembered his habits that bothered him most. It was more that the way he was acting—
It felt like he was showing off how close he was to Wei Zhenye, how they shared everything, like soulmates, even to the point of sharing his secret crush.
A chill ran through He Zheng’s whole body. He couldn’t stay there anymore. He stood up abruptly and said coldly to Yang Cheng, “Move.”
Yang Cheng politely stepped aside and made room for him.
He Zheng left the makeup room without looking back. Yang Cheng calmly took out his phone, adjusted the angle of the coffee on the makeup table, and snapped a photo.
Noticing He Zheng’s clothes draped over the back of a chair, he took a few steps back so the coffee, the makeup table, and the clothes were all in frame, then pressed the shutter with satisfaction.
His smile grew even stranger. Before posting the photo to his Moments, he deliberately blocked one person.
…
After seeing Wei Zhenye off, He Zheng hadn’t rested at all. Even when he went to the bathroom, he was still studying the script. He’d basically got it down, but after being unsettled by Yang Cheng right before filming, his performance ended up just a bit off again.
Du Guosheng was a very good-tempered director. Knowing this was He Zheng’s first time carrying a lead role, he hadn’t expected too much to begin with. After comforting him a few words, he went back to the camera to focus on the supporting actors’ scenes.
He Zheng watched from the side. Whether it was supporting roles or extras, everyone was in top form, delivering perfect performances with full energy.
After wrap, He Zheng didn’t leave. He stayed alone in the trailer, flipping through the script and practicing expressions in the mirror. Around six o’clock, his phone popped up with a notification reminding him it was time to livestream.
He Zheng had no mood for this at all, but thinking of the huge breach-of-contract penalty, he reluctantly turned on the camera, set his phone on the stand, didn’t care whether the angle looked good or not, and half-heartedly started the stream.
Since Wei Zhenye had accidentally shown his face last time, plus the official announcement of him as the lead actor, He Zheng’s livestream follower count had exploded several times over. As soon as it was time to go live, people squatted in the room waiting, afraid to miss even a bit of gossip.
The moment the stream opened, the comments flooded in like crashing waves, scrolling so fast it made his eyes blur.
“Where’s the rich supporter? Didn’t you move in together? Why isn’t he on camera?”
“Did you save Du Guosheng’s life or something? How did you become the lead actor?”
“Industry plant, get out of entertainment!! Industry plant, get out of entertainment!!”
“Can someone tell me what nationality the top supporter is? Why did tracking him suddenly show he’s back in Mexico?”
He Zheng felt completely exhausted, like his whole body was falling apart. He didn’t even have the energy to argue. After glancing at the comments and getting so angry he went speechless, he simply ignored them, picked up the script, and kept studying, lying flat and waiting for the stream to end.
As soon as he picked up the script, the trolls found a new angle to attack.
“Who are you putting on a show for?”
“You couldn’t read the script any other time? You have to act it out during a livestream?”
“Using your acting skills in the wrong place, I’m dying.”
“Why didn’t the top supporter come today? Did he just finish fooling around in bed with you and fall asleep?”
He Zheng didn’t even look up. Seeing that he barely reacted, the trolls went a bit crazy and started sending gifts, trying to use flashy effects to grab his attention and force him to look up and see the so-called public execution. But He Zheng stayed like a Buddha—eyes and ears closed, unmoving, silent.
He turned a page of the script when the trailer door was suddenly yanked open from outside.
Yang Cheng had changed into a black windbreaker. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, and the jacket fit him perfectly. He was holding a bag of boxed meals, a cigarette in his mouth, white smoke blowing straight into He Zheng’s face.
“Livestreaming?” Yang Cheng raised his chin and openly greeted the screen. “Good evening, everyone.”
He Zheng turned his phone so the camera avoided both of their faces.
“Hungry?” Yang Cheng tossed the boxed meal into his arms. “Eat, then I’ll take you home.”
He Zheng felt this guy was completely baffling. He didn’t even bother replying and reached to slam the door shut.
Yang Cheng stuck out a hand to block it. He Zheng didn’t hesitate for even a second and didn’t lessen the force at all, pushing the door all the way closed.
Yang Cheng’s hand got badly caught and took a solid hit. He frowned and cursed, grinding his teeth. “Fuck, you’re really ruthless.”
He Zheng’s face was completely expressionless. He rolled down the window and tossed the boxed meal out as well.
He adjusted the phone back to its original angle. In just those two short minutes, the comment section had already shifted topics again.
“Is that the top supporter? Can someone tell me if that’s the top supporter?”
“Why did that look like a couple fighting just now? How many boyfriends does this streamer even have?”
“That’s not the same person. The top supporter doesn’t look like that.”
“Honestly, this guy’s better-looking than the top supporter.”
The way these people’s minds worked left He Zheng utterly drained. He opened his mouth to explain, but the door was suddenly pulled open again.
Yang Cheng stood there, looking at him for two seconds, then spread his hands. “It was just one cup of coffee this morning. Is it really worth being mad this long?”
He Zheng was genuinely furious now. He snapped back immediately, “Are you done being disgusting?”
Yang Cheng froze for a moment, clearly not expecting this side of him. Then he laughed so hard his shoulders shook. “Hey, don’t get so worked up.”
He Zheng decisively ended the livestream, forced down his anger, and stared at Yang Cheng. “Let’s talk.”
“Talk about what?” Yang Cheng raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t it obvious?”
He Zheng took a deep breath. “What is obvious?”
“I’m into you,” Yang Cheng said lightly. “I like you. I’m interested in you. I want to fuck you. Do you get it now?”
The air fell instantly silent.
Yang Cheng stared straight at He Zheng, watching the expression on his face fade bit by bit. In the end, unexpectedly, it turned into a kind of extreme calm and indifference.
Then a fist flew straight at him.
Caught completely off guard, Yang Cheng instinctively turned his head at the last second. The punch didn’t land squarely on his face, but it slammed hard into the bone at the corner of his eye.
Still not satisfied, He Zheng jumped out of the van, grabbed Yang Cheng by the collar, shoved him hard, knocked him to the ground, and lifted his foot to kick at his head.
Yang Cheng managed to block it with his arm. One eye was already bruised and swelling shut, yet even at this point he could still laugh. “I was just telling the truth.”
He Zheng was so angry his chest heaved violently. His gaze was cold enough to freeze. He crouched down, clenched one hand into a fist, and slammed it hard into Yang Cheng’s chest twice as a warning, his face dark.
“I don’t care whether you were joking or not. Jokes have limits. Wei Zhenye treats you like a friend—what do you take him for?”
Yang Cheng let out a fearless whistle.
At that moment, all of He Zheng’s reason and restraint vanished. Completely losing control, he slapped Yang Cheng hard across the face.
Yang Cheng wasn’t a pushover either. After taking hits this long, the wild streak in his bones finally snapped awake. He grabbed He Zheng by the neck and pinned him to the ground, slapped him back, and was immediately dragged down again by He Zheng.
Two men over six feet tall rolled into a mess. Yang Cheng never expected someone who usually looked so gentle and calm like He Zheng to lose his mind like this over Wei Zhenye. His face was already marked with several fresh injuries from He Zheng’s punches, and he was a step slower getting back up.
He Zheng staggered to his feet, took two steps back to gather strength, then drove a brutal kick straight into Yang Cheng’s stomach.
Yang Cheng clenched his teeth in pain and curled up. He Zheng threw his head back; the scratches on his neck oozed tiny beads of blood. He wiped them hard with the back of his hand, breathing heavily, and said coldly to Yang Cheng:
“Watch your mouth. Don’t ever say the word ‘like’ to me again. You’re not worthy of it.”