Sunlight from the orange-yellow sunset streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Wen Chaosheng slowly stirred awake. His unfocused gaze drifted over Xi Zhui’s brows and the bridge of his nose, then lingered on the slight curve of his lips. A hazy, dreamlike sense of unreality washed over him. “Mm?”
Xi Zhui leaned in closer and rubbed noses with his lover. “Slept well?”
Guided by memory, his fingertip unerringly found the small mole at the nape of Wen Chaosheng’s neck and gently massaged it.
A tingling warmth spread down his spine. Wen Chaosheng flinched sensitively, and his heavy, sleep-clouded mind gradually sharpened.
That afternoon, after returning to the hotel, Xi Zhui had dragged him off to rest, claiming they needed to recover from the long flight and adjust to the time difference.
Wen Chaosheng hadn’t expected to fall asleep himself. A touch of embarrassment colored his face. “What time is it? When did you wake up?”
“Just past six. I woke up about ten minutes before you.” Xi Zhui gave a straightforward answer, then asked with concern, “Filming been tough lately? You were out like a light.”
“It’s all right.”
The Flower Moon crew wasn’t large, and they were short-staffed, so Wen Chaosheng had to oversee a lot personally.
On top of that, he held himself to exacting standards for every shot. Sometimes, he’d have the entire crew repeat a scene over and over just to nail the lighting and shadows.
The relentless high-intensity schedule was bound to take its toll eventually.
Xi Zhui could easily picture Wen Chaosheng’s grueling routine. He pressed, “When do you wrap?”
“Smooth sailing, end of July.” Wen Chaosheng gauged their progress, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “Got time to visit the set again?”
Xi Zhui couldn’t bear to disappoint him. “I will.”
He outlined his next steps. “I’ve got a flight back to the Imperial Capital tomorrow night. Grandpa’s birthday’s coming up—gotta spend some time with him.”
Xi Xishan was getting on in years and had always doted on his favorite grandson.
Xi Zhui continued, “I’ll also squeeze in a meeting with the head of Quansheng Entertainment to go over the contract details. Once that’s done, I’ll head straight to Heng City to find you.”
“Sure.”
Wen Chaosheng agreed, though his mind drifted to something else. “Quansheng Entertainment? You’ve made up your mind?”
Xi Zhui nodded slightly. He’d already done his homework on his new agency.
Quansheng Films was headquartered in the Imperial Capital and had spent the last decade focusing on film investments and IP development. They’d only opened a branch in Haishi City last year, branching into artist management.
“They offer a lot of creative freedom after signing. Headquarters has tons of projects they can funnel to their own talent.”
“Plus, the management division in Haishi is still new, so the higher-ups are eager to invest time and energy in nurturing rookies.”
The industry was packed with agencies these days—easy to pick the wrong one.
Quansheng wasn’t top-tier in film production, but they had a rock-solid reputation inside and out.
Wen Chaosheng trusted Xi Zhui’s judgment. “Want me to ask my parents? They could dig into Quansheng for you.”
With Wen Chunshen and Song Xuelan’s connections, getting the inside scoop would be a breeze.
“No need. I came clean to my parents about going into entertainment. They respect my choice and already had someone look into it.”
Xi Zhui paused for a beat, then ventured a guess. “Probably owed to Uncle Wen and Auntie Song.”
Wen Chaosheng hadn’t realized that. He relaxed completely. “Okay, then it must be solid.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
Xi Zhui eyed the hollows in Wen Chaosheng’s cheeks—he’d lost weight. “Hungry? I’ll have the hotel send something up. We can eat dinner in the room.”
Wen Chaosheng had no objections. “Sure.”
Xi Zhui asked, “What do you want?”
Wen Chaosheng thought it over, then asked uncertainly, “Japanese food okay? I want tuna sushi and sweet shrimp.”
“Sure thing, Brother.”
Xi Zhui chuckled softly and stole another kiss from him on the bed.
…
In the heat of midsummer, neither of them felt like venturing out. They lounged in the hotel, recharging properly before parting ways to dive back into their careers.
Heng City in the summer was a genuine furnace.
Even with three industrial cooling fans roaring at full blast from the crew, the absurd heat was unbearable. The staff huddled in the shade in small groups, seizing the chance for a quick break.
But Director Wen had no time to unwind. He crouched in front of the monitors, scrutinizing the footage they’d shot that morning.
The puny desk fan did nothing against the heat radiating from the equipment. It turned his pale face flushed and damp.
Suddenly, Lin Keyang swept in with the beverage delivery crew. “Right here, yeah—this stack of drinks! Thanks a ton, guys!”
After directing their placement, she hollered to the whole set, “Everyone! Xi Zhui’s here visiting the set. Help yourselves to iced milk tea, iced coffee, and chilled fruit!”
On a scorching summer day, who could resist a cold drink?
The set, which had been fairly quiet, erupted into chatter.
Wen Chaosheng had been deep in his review, but at the mention of “Xi Zhui,” his eyes flicked up instantly.
The next moment, a very familiar figure entered his line of sight.
“Director Wen, here to visit the set.”
Xi Zhui strode right up to him, his sharp features softened by an intimate smile meant just for him.
Surprise lit Wen Chaosheng’s eyes behind his glasses. He started to stand. “You…”
Xi Zhui stopped him and pulled up a chair to sit.
Wen Chaosheng glanced at the crew behind them, busy divvying up the drinks, and whispered, “Didn’t you say tomorrow? Why so early?”
Xi Zhui poked a straw into an iced mango juice and handed it over. “Wanted to surprise you, but the security guard on duty nearly kept me out.”
Luckily, he had Lin Keyang’s WeChat and she’d come out to vouch for him.
Xi Zhui gestured. “Have some? Your face is all flushed.”
Wen Chaosheng sipped the mango juice through the straw, unable to tear his gaze from Xi Zhui.
In just a few seconds, the lingering stuffiness in his body lifted. “Tastes good.”
“…”
Xi Zhui couldn’t handle that look. He leaned in and brushed away a bead of sweat from the tip of Wen Chaosheng’s nose with his thumb. “Quit staring like that. Can’t kiss you here.”
Wen Chaosheng straightened up in shy alarm, issuing a half-hearted warning. “Don’t say stuff like that. This is the set!”
Xi Zhui kept his voice low. “What’s there to fear? No one’s listening.”
Wen Chaosheng stirred his mango juice to change the subject. “Did you drive? Eaten lunch?”
Xi Zhui shook his head. “Not yet. Got up early to visit an old friend of Grandpa’s with him, then raced over here.”
He’d landed in Haishi City at dawn and rented a car right at the airport.
A hasty breakfast at the hotel restaurant, a quick visit to Elder Xi’s old friend, then nonstop to Heng City.
The breakfast had held him over till now.
Wen Chaosheng frowned. “You can’t go without eating.”
He set the mango juice aside and reached into the foam cooler at his feet, pulling out a box of pastries. “Here, want to try these?”
The pastries inside were light brown, cut into small bite-sized pieces, each studded with a few irregular red beans.
Xi Zhui had never seen anything like it. “What is it?”
Wen Chaosheng explained, “Lin Keyang picked them up. Local specialty called Sugar Cake.”
He skewered a piece with a bamboo stick and offered it. “I snack on these sometimes. Not bad.”
But instead of taking the stick, Xi Zhui cradled Wen Chaosheng’s wrist. His thumb rubbed deliberately along the smooth skin before he leaned down and took the soft, sticky bite himself.
“…”
Wen Chaosheng’s breath hitched. He felt like the one being devoured, not the cake.
Xi Zhui saw right through his dazed expression and asked knowingly, “Mm? What’re you thinking?”
“Nothing.” Wen Chaosheng tamped down the stray thought. “Good?”
Xi Zhui replied, “Yeah, better than I expected.”
Wen Chaosheng shoved the whole box into his hands with a huff. “Then eat it yourself.”
Xi Zhui wasn’t satisfied. “Just one bite?”
“We’re on set.”
Wen Chaosheng was genuinely worried about the crew finding out. “Eat by yourself.”
Xi Zhui was prepping to be an actor, after all—their relationship wasn’t something to publicize yet.
That reminded Wen Chaosheng to ask, “How’d things go with Quansheng Entertainment?”
Xi Zhui was starving and took his time with another piece of Sugar Cake. “All set. Signed a tentative contract—five years, starts August first.”
“Deduct training costs and such; if there’s profit, company-artist split is 60-40 the first three years, 50-50 the last two.”
It was a fair deal compared to most agencies.
Xi Zhui had a face made for the screen, and Quansheng’s artist department loved his look. They’d been keen to sign him from the start.
Xi Zhui added, “Their plan is to send me to film school for six months of acting classes first.”
Then one or two quick-turnaround costume idol dramas to get his face out there. Come next year, they’d line up movie auditions.
Wen Chaosheng nodded. “Sounds decent.”
Xi Zhui was fine with it too, but he gave Wen Chaosheng a heads-up. “Means I’ll be busy soon. But at least we’re in the same country—easier to meet up than overseas.”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t see it as an issue. “Mm.”
Just then, another voice called out. “Director Wen.”
Wen Chaosheng and Xi Zhui both looked over.
The newcomer wore the film’s costume, deliberately distressed and rough. The makeup was dialed down to “ordinary,” with heavy foundation, ashen cracked lips—a perfect picture of malnourishment.
However, his figure was slender yet upright, his walking posture elegantly graceful. It was impossible to conceal the innate nobility that emanated from deep within his bones.
Xi Zhui met the gaze of the newcomer, and neither man spoke right away.
“Jin Zhao.”
It was Wen Chaosheng who broke the silence first. “This is… my friend, Xi Zhui.”
Xi Zhui’s eyes darkened slightly at the word “friend,” but he understood Wen Chaosheng’s intentions and did not correct him.
Jian Jinzhao, disguised in his ugly role makeup, showed no trace of awkwardness. He extended his hand with calm composure. “I know. Hello, Teacher Xi. I’m Jian Jinzhao. I’ve seen your films before—they’re outstanding.”
Xi Zhui set down the Sugar Cake and stood to shake his hand. “No need to stand on ceremony. Just call me Xi Zhui.”
“Got it.”
With those simple greetings, the two were acquainted.
Wen Chaosheng glanced at the time, shot Xi Zhui a meaningful look, then swiftly shifted back into work mode. “Jin Zhao, come sit here. Let’s run through the afternoon scenes one more time.”
“Sure.”
“…”
Xi Zhui knew better than to interrupt Wen Chaosheng’s rigorous focus on the shoot. He quietly took a seat behind him.
The afternoon scenes went smoothly, and the crew wrapped up before six o’clock.
Lin Keyang walked over. “Xi Zhui, are you staying in Heng City tonight? Have you booked a hotel?”
“Not yet.”
Xi Zhui glanced calmly at Wen Chaosheng, who was packing his backpack nearby. “Director Wen said he’d arrange my accommodations personally.”
Wen Chaosheng paused mid-motion as he lifted his bag.
Lin Keyang caught on immediately, her voice laced with teasing waves. “Oh~ Then I won’t worry about it. Enjoy your date—I’m heading out.”
Xi Zhui nodded. “Sounds good. Bye, Sister Yang.”
Wen Chaosheng watched Lin Keyang walk away and let out a quiet breath of relief tinged with guilt.
Xi Zhui chuckled softly. “What are you so nervous about?”
Wen Chaosheng thought it over for a moment, then spoke earnestly. “Keep our relationship under wraps for now. It wouldn’t be good for you.”
Xi Zhui understood his concerns, but he replied anyway, “I don’t want to hide it, though.”
Wen Chaosheng stood firm. “Not right now, at least. It could really hurt your career.”
For once, the two found themselves at odds on the matter.
Xi Zhui sighed and let it drop for the time being. “It’s too early to talk about it anyway. Let’s head out to the parking lot and get back to the hotel first?”
“Sure.”
The pair walked side by side toward the exit. In the parking lot, they ran into Jian Jinzhao, who had removed his makeup.
He wore a plain white T-shirt. Without his on-set “ugly” disguise, his naturally beautiful face was fully revealed—flawless skin and bone structure so striking it took the breath away.
Xi Zhui’s gaze flickered, not in admiration of Jian Jinzhao’s looks, but in appreciation of Wen Chaosheng’s sharp eye for casting.
Jian Jinzhao drew near. “Director, you haven’t left yet?”
“We’re just heading back to the hotel.” Wen Chaosheng was on familiar terms with Jian Jinzhao by now, so he asked in return, “What are you doing out here alone? Where’s your manager?”
Jian Jinzhao replied, “The car broke down halfway. He hasn’t gotten here yet.”
Xi Zhui wasn’t the type to get involved in others’ business, but since this was Wen Chaosheng’s handpicked lead actor, he made a polite offer. “Want to ride with us?”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng’s thoughts hit a momentary lag.
He watched Xi Zhui being unusually cordial to an outsider, and a faint twinge of jealousy pricked at his heart.
“Thanks, but no need.”
Jian Jinzhao shook his head. “My manager’s almost here, and I’ve got some other work tonight anyway.”
Xi Zhui didn’t press. “Alright, then. We’ll see you later.”
Wen Chaosheng gave Jian Jinzhao a slight nod before following Xi Zhui. With his eyes cast downward, he fell silent.
Xi Zhui reached the shaded corner beneath the trees, where his rented SUV was parked.
He unlocked the doors and glanced sideways, picking up on Wen Chaosheng’s distraction. “What’s wrong? What are you thinking about?”
Wen Chaosheng looked at him, then stole a glance at Jian Jinzhao still waiting near the parking lot entrance. He tucked away that silly spark of jealousy.
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
Xi Zhui saw right through him in an instant. “Why stare at Jian Jinzhao? Upset now?”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t think his reaction had been that obvious. How had Xi Zhui guessed? He drew a deep breath and doubled down. “I’m not upset.”
“Really?”
Xi Zhui clearly wasn’t convinced.
He let out a subtle sigh, then abruptly changed tactics. “Brother, how about I give you a gift right now? Then you tell me the truth—deal?”
Wen Chaosheng’s wandering thoughts snapped back to attention. Curiosity gleamed deep in his pupils, reflected in his glasses. “A gift?”
“Yeah.”
Xi Zhui beckoned him mysteriously. “Want to see it?”
This time, Wen Chaosheng answered honestly. “Yes.”
Xi Zhui opened the rear passenger door. A large foam box sat on the seat. He slid it outward a bit and lifted the perforated lid on top.
“Here, have a look.”
