Yan Qi stood at the entrance of Song Xueyan’s lounge, feeling puzzled for several minutes. He still couldn’t figure out why he had volunteered for this task.
He glanced at the little round bucket in his hand, then glanced at the “Song Xueyan’s Lounge” sign on the door. He punched “Song Xueyan” (the door) lightly, turned, and walked away with his head down.
Song Xueyan stood behind the door, leaning in close to the peephole. He saw Yan Qi cradling the small round cup like a grade-schooler clutching their homework. When he turned the corner, he nearly walked into the wall, then punched the wall weakly. The scent of pear and honey lingered, sweet and inseparable. He licked his lips, and a soft laugh escaped.
Song Xueyan’s lounge was on the second floor, while Yan Qi’s was on the first.
As he walked downstairs, Yan Qi saw a young man chatting happily with Zhou Yi. Zhou Yi even patted the young man’s shoulder, laughing, and shoved a handful of candy into his hand before turning back into his lounge.
The man turned and walked toward him. Yan Qi didn’t know this person and didn’t plan to say hello, but the man stopped directly in front of him.
“You’re Yan Qi, right?”
Yan Qi paused. “I am. Who are you?”
The man reached out to shake his hand and introduced himself: “My name is Han Dongling. I’m Song Xueyan’s agent.”
Oh, right. Yan Qi remembered.
Feng Zhui had mentioned that after Song Xueyan terminated his contract with Huaying, his original team stayed with the company, so he had to find a new agent himself.
The new agent also had a cool history of breaking away from his previous agency. Rumor had it that when Song Xueyan went to visit him, the new agent was in a small shop applying screen protectors for people. Song Xueyan waited for the customer to leave, and before he could say a word, he just handed over his phone.
Han Dongling immediately took the 50 yuan from his future boss.
Yan Qi thought to himself that these two were indeed a pair of “bold heroes.” However, Han Dongling seemed to get along well with Zhou Yi; it seemed Song Xueyan had outsourced all his social tasks to his agent.
The two exchanged brief pleasantries and went their separate ways.
When Han Dongling entered the lounge, Song Xueyan was writing and drawing on his script. He walked over for a glance and discovered Song Xueyan was holding a red pen.
This was strange; no matter how many notes Song Xueyan made on his script, there were only ever traces of a black pen. Looking closer, he realized the words marked in red weren’t Xiao Zhenyue’s lines, but Ming Yanchao’s.
Han Dongling recalled bumping into Yan Qi on the first floor. “Since when have you had the hobby of polishing lines for others?”
Song Xueyan didn’t hide it. “He performed well during the reading just now. His lines were full of emotion and accurate, and the most rare thing was that they were natural. However, the pacing in some places could be tweaked to make the effect even better.”
Han Dongling took out dinner nutritional meals balanced by a nutritionist, plus the handful of peppermint candies Zhou Yi had just given them. He urged Song Xueyan to eat, took half a piece of chilled watermelon, and sat on the sofa.
With the AC blowing and the icy watermelon being crunched, Han Dongling felt calm, but his brain was boiling again. “You’re quite concerned about this rookie kid.”
Seeing Song Xueyan glance sideways at him, he struck first. “Don’t give me that ‘everything is for the good of the project’ nonsense. You’ve helped rookies and juniors polish lines and performances before, but that was always on set. You’ve never proactively written notes for anyone, especially not on your own script. Don’t try to cover it up; what’s your angle? Give me the bottom line.”
Song Xueyan had no intention of covering it up.
“I am quite concerned about him. As for what’s my angle?” Song Xueyan thought for a moment and deftly skewered a piece of fish. “The person, I suppose.”
“Holy shit! It’s only the first day on set!” Han Dongling held the watermelon in both hands as if holding three sticks of incense. “Ancestor, I should have gone with you for the screen test! What on earth did you two do at the hotel?”
Yan Qi looked damn handsome, but he didn’t look like a little seducer. How had he managed to catch Song Xueyan’s eye?
The fish was delicate and delicious, melting in his mouth. Song Xueyan was in a good mood and thought the nutritionist’s cooking had improved significantly. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you’d followed me.”
He glanced at Han Dongling, his tone rising slightly. “You would have had to know me in a past life to be in time.”
“Past life? Is this a reincarnation drama? Wait, it’s not, is it?” Han Dongling stood up, thought for a long time, stomped his foot, and made a decision. “Are you dreaming because you’ve been watching too many reincarnation novels? Is it that you like the plot too much and haven’t woken up from the dream? Are you obsessed with the drama?”
He set down the watermelon, making a move to reach for his phone. “I’m calling Dr. Wang to make a trip over. Your condition hasn’t just worsened; it’s mutated halfway through!”
“I’m fine.” Song Xueyan told him to stop messing around. “I need to take some makeup photos tonight. Go ask Director Fang when he plans to release them. The insults to Yan Qi online could fill a book.”
“Haven’t you always been indifferent to online opinion? Fine, I get it you’re feeling heartache.” Han Dongling quickly finished off the watermelon and turned to the bathroom to wash his hands.
“Yaoguang Entertainment is a powerhouse; their team has their own planning, so you don’t need to worry about it. Besides, he already circled a large group of ‘mask fans’ based on half his face. If you really care about him, keep a tight watch on him on set. As long as he performs well, once the drama airs, he’ll take off.”
Song Xueyan sipped his soup and said nothing.
Han Dongling added: “I have to remind you, no matter what your angle is, be careful with your boundaries. The filming isn’t over yet. If he realizes your intentions and decides he doesn’t feel the same, think about how awkward it will be for both of you.”
Song Xueyan thought for a moment and said quite confidently: “That idiot shouldn’t be able to tell.”
“Damn, who are you calling an idiot!”
Yan Qi exited the game, slammed his phone down, and shouted at Xiao Bing: “That idiot! He’s even worse than my second-grade brother, and he has the nerve to call this MVP an idiot? He’s like a hanged ghost selling his ass—shamelessly shameless!”
As a fellow gamer, Xiao Bing immediately shared his indignation. “What a jerk! I hope he gets disconnected in the middle of a game, and when he’s about to get a penta-kill, he gets it stolen!”
Yan Qi widened his eyes, disbelievingly. “A rookie like that can even get a penta-kill? If the concept of a penta-kill knew, wouldn’t it jump up and hang itself just to dispel such bad luck?”
Xiao Bing nodded humbly. “Exactly, exactly.”
“Not playing anymore.” Yan Qi quickly peeled a lychee to eat, not forgetting his main task. “Right, pack up the pear water. Don’t pack too much—drinking too much will give you an upset stomach.”
“You got it.” Xiao Bing reminded him, “Qi-ge, do you want to take a sip first? If you just hand it to Teacher Song and the taste isn’t quite right, what if he doesn’t like it?”
Yan Qi said: “Are you saying what I cooked isn’t as good as what you cook?”
“How could that be?” Xiao Bing was righteous. “I just want you, Qi-ge, to be flawlessly perfect every second you appear in front of Teacher Song.”
He cooked it himself, he’s delivering it himself, and he wouldn’t like it? Yan Qi thought this wasn’t being “delicate” it was asking for a beating.
He said coldly: “If he dares not drink it, pinch his mouth open and pour it down.”
Xiao Bing didn’t argue, letting Yan Qi continue showing off in the private lounge. After a while, he recalled something. “I saw Han Dongling earlier.”
Yan Qi swept the lychee shells into the trash can, instantly thinking of the image of Han Dongling talking to Zhou Yi, and then naturally thinking of Song Xueyan’s situation. He sighed. “I hope Song Xueyan can always maintain his true self and not be swayed.”
Xiao Bing was confused, so Yan Qi shared what he had seen with his own eyes and his “profound” insights.
“Ah.” Xiao Bing hugged the small bucket, feeling that his current expression must be a hundred times more complex than Yan Qi’s who was “worrying before the world worries.”
Apparently, Yan Qi sensed it too and immediately became even more enthusiastic. “Do you also feel emotionally complex? Appreciating his character while also worrying about him though my worry is very small, about the size of a tenth of a lychee. As for why I’m worried?”
He found a perfect excuse for himself. “Because I appreciate his character, that’s all. If it were someone else, it would be the same.”
Xiao Bing: “But”
“Fine, it’s not the same.” Yan Qi said immersively. “He’s a good friend of Yangle-ge, and Yangle-ge is so protective. Even if he really falls on hard times, Yangle-ge wouldn’t stand by and watch. Plus, he was brought into the industry by Director Fang; Director Fang wouldn’t let him die, would he?”
Xiao Bing: “Actually”
“Time’s up. I’m going to work.” Yan Qi stood up briskly, strode past Xiao Bing, and didn’t forget to take the round bucket with him.
Xiao Bing reached out an “Erkang” hand, grabbing weakly at Yan Qi’s “confident and dashing” back, before letting it drop helplessly.
Oh God, how can I tell Qi-ge without hurting that kind little heart of his—the fact that the reason nobody shakes hands with Teacher Song is because everyone knows Teacher Song dislikes physical contact, so they’re just being considerate and trying not to be a nuisance!
After finishing the day’s progress and returning to the hotel, it was nearly midnight.
Yan Qi quickly blew-dried his hair in the bathroom and took the lime-scented body lotion to the sofa to apply. When the door was knocked, he said “Come in,” and quickly tucked his legs away.
Song Xueyan pushed the door open but didn’t enter, standing in the doorway looking at Yan Qi, who was curled up on the single sofa in his shorts and short sleeves. He raised his hand and said, “Take this.”
“What is it?” Yan Qi said. “Come in and say it.”
Song Xueyan’s hand gripping the doorknob tightened slightly, but he walked in anyway. He placed the script on Yan Qi’s head and said, “Put some more thought into the parts I’ve marked.”
Yan Qi reached up and took the script off his head, discovering several pages were folded. He flipped through them quickly and saw lines highlighted in red pen. Beside them, his performance from the reading today was noted, his emotional deficiencies pointed out, and the suggestions for improvement were written with patience and care.
Song Xueyan’s handwriting was vigorous and elegant clearly practiced. Yan Qi felt dizzy, his heart scratched by those words in the very center.
He looked up at Song Xueyan. The man had probably just showered too; his hair was half-dry, still exuding a moist aura, his bangs flat and smooth, making him look quiet and gentle. Song Xueyan loved wearing long-sleeved, long-legged white satin outfits, covering his hands and legs completely, revealing only a delicate, beautiful neck and graceful collarbones.
The cold, white-skinned Song Xueyan wrapped in a milky-white shell looked like a box of pure milk the high-calcium, low-fat kind that you had to sip carefully to taste the sweetness.
Seeing Yan Qi staring at him intently, docile and obedient, his dark eyes bright, Song Xueyan couldn’t help but pinch a bit of the fabric at his thigh, asking with a feigned tone of urging: “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Yan Qi’s voice was slightly hoarse. He didn’t need to know if Song Xueyan was doing this for professional or personal reasons. He brushed aside the string of grateful words and just said, “From now on on set, I’ll take the initiative to greet you every day. Even if others might still ignore you, having a handsome guy like me around is more effective than a hundred big-name stars.”
Song Xueyan was startled, then released his trousers. “Idiot.”
“Fuck.” Yan Qi said this very softly and low, with a touch of a smile. “I’m warning you, don’t force me to use my ‘small’ size to bully your ‘big’ size.”
Song Xueyan squinted at him, saying nothing.