Chapter 20

Bai Chen said nothing, turning his head to look at her.

His eyes were slightly elongated, framed by long, dense lashes that formed a natural eyeliner, accentuating their elegant shape with a hint of allure. Yet they held the pure clarity of a child’s gaze, so pristine that they reflected the depths of anyone’s soul.

Dong Man felt a twinge of nervousness. After all, her last remark had been a bit too bold—she’d been too eager to push her luck.

“You’re great,” those eyes suddenly curved into charming crescent moons. “Take out your phone.”

In a daze, Dong Man handed over the new spare phone her agent had given her. She watched as Bai Chen tapped it twice, then bumped it against hers. A red envelope worth one hundred thousand popped up on her screen.

Dong Man: “!”

She had only recently learned from Team Three just how grueling and heartbreaking it was to make money in this world.

One hundred thousand!

And Bai Chen had said she was great!

Affirmation from her savior!

For the second time!

Dong Man was over the moon. The whole world suddenly seemed adorable—even the wriggling blood vessels over there looked almost normal.

“Thank you, boss!”

Bai Chen was already walking away. He gave a casual wave. No need to thank him.

He could already sense the love radiating from Dong Man. It was slightly different from the affection he’d received before, but exchanging his endless spare cash for it was more than worth it.

Bai Chen had entered the entertainment industry to become a star for just two things: love and money.

The love was for himself. The money was for the boy, Jiang Yuanmu. He’d tasted plenty of love, but the money always piled up—he could never get Jiang Yuanmu to accept it, whether he spotted it roadside or if others offered it.

It all accumulated with him now, and he rarely had chances to spend. His food, clothes, and daily needs were almost entirely covered by Faraway Group.

Faraway Group owned countless ventures: clothing, jewelry, cars, food. Whenever they unearthed a new gem, the president would send it over to ask if he liked it. New fashions? The spokesperson got first dibs.

He’d moved into a new villa, but the garage couldn’t hold all the cars he’d received.

They were gifts from Faraway Group’s president and the various product heads—ultimately, all from Chu Xuzhou.

Chu Xuzhou gave him so many things, more than he could count. These were just the tip of the iceberg, much like his love.

When Dong Man had spoken of “love hormones” and a “treasure trove of romantic potential,” Bai Chen’s mind had immediately flashed to Chu Xuzhou. He could feel the immense energy Chu had bottled up inside him. The love Chu showed was just the tiniest fraction, suppressed beneath a volcano. If that volcano ever erupted…

Bai Chen’s steps faltered. He swallowed hard, his body—nurtured by so much love—trembling with excitement.

“Bai Chen?” Ning Yuanshui noticed Bai Chen looking unwell, propping himself against the wall in a slight curl. He hurried over and saw the flush on Bai Chen’s ears and neck. “What’s wrong?”

“I want,” Bai Chen murmured.

“Want what?” Ning Yuanshui asked.

“So much.”

“So much what?” The director had wandered over too. “Want wha—”

He never finished. The moment Bai Chen lifted his head, the director forgot what he’d meant to say. All he knew was: “Quick, quick, quick! Get the scene ready where the Vascular Strangeness drains Bai Chen’s blood!”

This state was perfect for filming.

Eyes glistening red, body trembling in discomfort, a spark of defiance, desire blooming unchecked.

Ever since Qiao Qingshuang’s visit, the Vascular Strangeness had become much more obedient. The little celestial masters had no worries about other scenes, but this one involved its vessels pressing intimately against Bai Chen’s skin. They weren’t so sure.

They’d been uneasy before, but after learning their ancestral master took a real shine to this actor, their caution doubled.

The more lively of the junior celestial masters piped up. “To be safe, let’s have Xuzhou Big Shot handle it.”

By the time Chu Xuzhou arrived, Bai Chen was already lying on the floor.

Beneath him writhed a mass of pulsing vessels and viscous blood. His clothes were even more tattered than in the first scene, exposing about half his skin.

Humans, raised on grains and weathered by the seasons, rarely had flawless skin. Bai Chen’s was an exception.

His skin was impeccable—no blemishes, no visible pores, just smooth, snowy perfection that clashed starkly with the congealing blood, almost blinding to behold.

Chu Xuzhou halted in his tracks.

The director and stylist hurried over with a sketched diagram, briefing him on the scene. “We’re shooting Bai Chen getting drained by the Vascular Strangeness. For realism, its vessels need to hug his as closely as possible, creating the illusion that their veins are linked.”

It was a tricky setup.

The Vascular Strangeness’s vessels were naturally sticky, so they could adhere to Bai Chen’s skin. But Chu Xuzhou had to locate Bai Chen’s veins first, make them swell visibly, then press the creature’s vessels hard against the skin.

The pressure was key—to dent that soft flesh, mimicking penetration. Only then would the camera sell the effect.

Under the director’s guidance, Chu Xuzhou gripped Bai Chen’s arm firmly. The creamy skin tightened under his rigid grasp, the veins beneath subtly bulging. A flush of pink spread from the heat, only for the grotesque vessels to clamp down forcefully.

It looked like a scene of outright torment.

And yet, this was the same person who had defeated him.

Chu Xuzhou faltered for a moment. His hand clenched tighter, deepening the pink flush, swelling the veins further.

Bai Chen let out an uncomfortable hum, muffled by the cluster of vessels Chu Xuzhou had just placed in his mouth—dozens of them.

The scene dragged on for over an hour. Once wrapped, Chu Xuzhou approached the director. “How many more scenes like this are there?”

“What’s up?” The director grew tense.

He hadn’t known Chu Xuzhou long, but he’d heard from industry folks that the man was an easygoing investor—no weird habits, affable personality. Their interactions so far confirmed it: calm, unflappable, relaxing to be around.

This was the first time he’d sensed something off in Chu Xuzhou—an unstable, dangerous restlessness.

Chu Xuzhou didn’t answer right away. For the first time, the director realized just how imposing the man could be. Taller than most, with sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms longer and more corded than average, muscles taut like coiled power, ready to unleash.

Standing there silent, he seemed to be brewing something perilous.

After about a minute, he finally said, “Nothing. Just curious.”

“Oh, right, right.” The director replied, “Bai Chen’s got plenty more with the Vascular Strangeness, but the tough ones like that—needing your help, Xuzhou Big Shot—only two left.”

Chu Xuzhou nodded, and the air noticeably eased.

“Xuzhou Big Shot,” Dong Man ran up. “Teacher Bai Chen wants you to clean the blood for him.”

The tension snapped back.

Last shoot, the Vascular Strangeness had flooded his mouth with blood. He wouldn’t rinse, so Chu Xuzhou used his energy to draw it out. This time, with vessels jammed in there, even more blood.

Bai Chen was used to ordering people around—far cleaner and easier to have Chu Xuzhou handle it.

The vessels were carefully extracted from his mouth, leaving it smeared crimson. As the assistant reached for a wipe, Chu Xuzhou said, “I’ll get it.”

The assistant handed over the towel with practiced ease. “Thanks for the trouble.”

Online trolls loved claiming Bai Chen fawned over his big-shot sponsor in private. His assistant knew the truth: it was always Xuzhou Big Shot serving Bai Chen.

From tying shoelaces to vetting scripts and career plans, he was agent, assistant, and nanny all in one.

The assistant handed off the towel confidently and stepped out to handle other tasks.

After wiping the blood from his mouth and chin, Chu Xuzhou cupped his hand over Bai Chen’s lips.

Bai Chen reacted sluggishly, like someone half-asleep. Only then did he meet Chu Xuzhou’s gaze, parting his lips slowly against the palm—opening, closing; opening again…

Chu Xuzhou’s nerves tightened with each motion. It took him a moment to realize Bai Chen was trying to speak.

“What?” He lifted his hand to ask. His once-dry palm was now slick, ringed with a clear wet imprint.

“Why’s your body temperature so high?” Bai Chen said. “Have you ever wondered?”

He had wondered—long and often.

Chu Xuzhou had forgotten what it felt like to be human.

He’d also lost track of many things from his human days, too distant now. He only dimly recalled dying young, yet not truly dying.

Crawling from his coffin, he’d rejoined his ecstatic family, living as one of them. But he was no longer human. His body stayed frozen as it had been at death—lifeless, without warmth.

Twenty years passed without a single change in his appearance or chill. When his parents’ gazes turned wary with fear, he left a farewell letter and set off wandering.

He traveled for ages, so long time blurred.

He’d witnessed breathtaking vistas, grand eras, rivers of blood on battlefields, decadent revelries. Yet his heartbeat and warmth never stirred.

Heart barely beating, body perpetually cold.

Living Dead knew no desire—a fact verified among his growing kin in the Corpse Clan.

Over countless days, he’d amassed energy to mimic human warmth when needed. Otherwise, for centuries, his body stayed frigid, heart all but still.

Even in the heat of battle with Bai Chen—the moment that should have set his blood aflame—his temperature hadn’t budged.

Until one day, a spark ignited out of nowhere.

The night Bai Chen unexpectedly took his hand and traced his name into the palm, Chu Xuzhou lay awake, marveling at the unfamiliar warmth.

He wasn’t dead after all.

That day on set, the ember flared into a wildfire. Chu Xuzhou felt desire again, after decades dormant.

Like a bedridden invalid taking first steps—wobbly.

Like a corpse warming after centuries—unable to regulate.

Many things left unsaid. That was how Chu Xuzhou explained it to Bai Chen.

“I have a way to control your body temperature,” Bai Chen said. “Want to try?”