Chapter 32

One week later, the Hundred Flowers Awards film festival officially kicked off with its ceremony.

Wen Chaosheng took home the Best Director award for his film Flower Moon—a win that caught him off guard but struck everyone else as entirely expected.

At the same time, Jian Jinzhao, who starred as the lead, scooped up Best Newcomer and Most Promising Actor, while Flower Moon itself earned a nod as one of the Excellent Short Films.

The entire crew had every reason to celebrate their haul.

Jian Jinzhao’s team had booked the victory banquet well in advance, inviting Wen Chaosheng, Lin Keyang, and the other key members of the production to join in.

By the time Xi Zhui finally made it to the private room, Lin Keyang and Jian Jinzhao were still clinking glasses amid the lively chatter. But Wen Chaosheng was a different story—

He sat there obediently clutching his backpack, sunk deep into the single sofa. Behind his glasses, his gaze was clouded with dullness and confusion, his face flushed a deep red from the alcohol.

He looked utterly enveloped in a haze, barely registering the raucous noise from the table.

…

Well, then.

Drunk and out of it again.

Xi Zhui let out a sigh that mixed exasperation with amusement.

From the moment he’d learned the banquet’s location to the drive over—sticking strictly to safe speeds—he’d cut the travel time as much as possible.

And yet, he’d still arrived too late to outpace Wen Chaosheng’s drinking.

Lin Keyang spotted Xi Zhui and walked over with a smile. “You finally made it. I couldn’t hold everyone back from toasting Chaosheng—they were way too enthusiastic. And he’s got such thin skin; he hates turning people down.”

It had been two and a half years since that time in Gannan. She’d figured his tolerance must have improved by now.

But nope. After the group egged him on through just three glasses, he’d been completely zonked in under forty minutes.

Lin Keyang glanced toward Wen Chaosheng in the corner. “No one can get a word out of him. He’s just huddled on the sofa like a lump.”

Wen Chaosheng didn’t have an assistant, and she had no idea how to reach the Wen Family. Luckily, Xi Zhui had gotten the heads-up before the party even started and rushed right over.

Xi Zhui had come prepared. “It’s fine. That’s just how he gets when he’s drunk. At least he doesn’t cause a scene in public.”

He walked over to the sofa in the corner and crouched down to meet Wen Chaosheng’s eyes. “Wen Chaosheng.”

“Mm.”

Wen Chaosheng’s gaze shifted sluggishly. He greeted him with grave seriousness. “Xi Zhui, good evening.”

Xi Zhui couldn’t help but chuckle.

He knew it was just drunken rambling, but he replied gently anyway. “Good evening. Do you want to keep sitting here, or come home with me?”

Wen Chaosheng drew in a soft breath. “Go home.”

“Alright, then. Let’s go.”

With everyone in the room watching, Xi Zhui didn’t want to overstep. He simply helped Wen Chaosheng up from the sofa, steadying him to keep him from stumbling.

The others whistled in surprise at the sight. “Whoa, how come Director Wen only listens to Teacher Xi? We were calling him earlier and got nothing.”

Lin Keyang jumped in smoothly. “They’ve known each other since they were kids. It’s not the same as us fair-weather friends.”

Xi Zhui just smiled, offering no further explanation.

He offered congratulations to Jian Jinzhao, who had also won awards. Then, in the tone of an old friend, he said, “I’m sitting this one out tonight. I’ve got to get Chaosheng home. We’ll catch up next time.”

Lin Keyang saw right through it but played along. “Sure thing. Drive safe.”

“Mm.”

…

Once they were out of the room and in the elevator, Xi Zhui reached for the backpack in Wen Chaosheng’s hands. “Let me carry the bag.”

Wen Chaosheng clutched it tightly this time. “No. I’ll hold it.”

To emphasize his point, he shook his head vigorously. But two seconds later, the motion left him dizzy. He slumped right into Xi Zhui’s chest with a soft thud. “Wu…”

Xi Zhui steadied him right away and pinched his feverish ear. “Crashing into my arms on purpose?”

It took Wen Chaosheng several beats to register the teasing, but he just played dumb and leaned in closer. “Where are we going?”

“Where do you want to go?”

As the elevator descended, Xi Zhui gave him two options. “Back to your place, or to the home we share?”

Ever since returning to the Imperial Capital, Wen Chaosheng had spent nearly every night—except for New Year’s Eve and the first day of the year—in the high-rise apartment Xi Zhui rented. Each evening, he’d rack his brain over WeChat, spinning excuses for why he wouldn’t be home.

Fortunately, as a grown man with a mature mind, he had his parents’ full trust. They never once suspected a thing.

Buoyed by the alcohol, Wen Chaosheng blushed and chose the second option.

Xi Zhui chuckled softly. “Alright. I’ll take you home.”

…

They made it back before eleven.

Wen Chaosheng had dozed off in the car, fuzzy from drink and drowsiness. Xi Zhui carried him inside.

The soft thud of the door closing roused Wen Chaosheng just enough from his stupor. He leaned into Xi Zhui’s embrace with soft eyes, making no move to stir.

Only when they neared the bed did he let out a little whine. “No… haven’t showered yet.”

Even drunk, he wouldn’t skip his cleanliness rule.

Xi Zhui obligingly changed course toward the bathroom. “Okay. Bath time it is.”

Wen Chaosheng blinked slowly, his voice uncertain. “Together?”

Xi Zhui laughed. “Sure.”

This wasn’t Gannan anymore. Their relationship had evolved from friends to lovers; there was no need to stand on ceremony.

The sound of running water pattered in the bathroom for a good long while, interspersed with faint, intimate murmurs.

When Xi Zhui finally emerged with Wen Chaosheng, the parts of his skin peeking from the bathrobe were flushed bright red. Perhaps overheated from the steam, even the corners of his eyes glistened with a rosy sheen.

Wen Chaosheng leaned dazedly against Xi Zhui’s shoulder. His right hand’s fingers curled unconsciously, trembling slightly. His palm bore a faint red mark from the friction, and he still seemed lost in the tender intimacy they’d just shared.

…

Xi Zhui looked down at his dazed partner, his own eyes warm with affection. He gently ruffled Wen Chaosheng’s damp, curling hair. “Want me to put some body lotion on you?”

Ripples stirred in the depths of Wen Chaosheng’s eyes, though his response came slowly.

Even through the haze of alcohol, he vividly recalled that one night in Heng City. “No. You bully me.”

The petulant tone made Xi Zhui’s heart melt, though he denied it flat-out. “That wasn’t bullying. You clearly enjoyed it.”

Wen Chaosheng looked up at him all soft and fluffy, unable to argue back.

Xi Zhui didn’t press him to respond. “Feeling sleepy? Ready for bed?”

Wen Chaosheng was still deep in his cups, yet somehow convinced himself he was perfectly alert. He shook his head, his gaze suddenly darting around the room.

A few seconds later, he even tried to wriggle free from Xi Zhui’s arms.

Xi Zhui tightened his hold on his restless lover. “What are you up to?”

“Where’s my bag? I want my backpack.”

“It’s in the little living room outside.”

…

Wen Chaosheng squirmed again, trying to get off the bed. “I need to get it.”

“You can barely walk straight. Be good.” Xi Zhui held him back but indulged him anyway. “I’ll fetch it for you. Just stay put and don’t move.”

“Mm.”

Wen Chaosheng nodded obediently.

When Xi Zhui returned to the bedroom with the backpack, Wen Chaosheng was sitting exactly as he’d left him, not stirring an inch. Those drunken eyes of his shone bright as they fixed on Xi Zhui.

With a smile, Xi Zhui handed over the bag. “What do you need the bag for this late at night?”

“There’s… something really important—”

Wen Chaosheng unzipped the backpack and carefully lifted out the gift box from the Hundred Flowers Awards. From inside, he extracted the trophy and offered it to Xi Zhui, along with all the joy and love swelling in his heart.

“Xi Zhui. For you.”

…

Xi Zhui stared at the Hundred Flowers Award trophy held out before him, his heart skipping a beat.

He drew a subtle breath and gently clasped the hands cradling it. “This is your award, your achievement. Why give it to me?”

Wen Chaosheng had no real reason. He just said, “Because I want to.”

A year earlier, in the snowy streets of Berlin, Xi Zhui had presented him with a one-of-a-kind trophy. He’d never forgotten.

Fearing Xi Zhui might refuse, Wen Chaosheng pushed it into his hands with drunken stubbornness, his eyes full of hope. “Mm… I give you my trophy. Then, when you win Best Male Lead someday, you give it to me. Okay?”

The trophy—and the sentiment behind it—felt weighty in his grasp.

Xi Zhui fell silent for a few seconds before finally accepting the trophy from Wen Chaosheng’s hands, along with his earnest wish. “Okay. Someday, I’ll win Best Male Lead and give it to you.”

Best Male Lead. The Film Emperor title.

To other up-and-comers, it seemed an impossible dream. But Xi Zhui promised it without hesitation.

From this day forward, he’d strive for his own future—and chase it even harder for Wen Chaosheng’s sake. They were each other’s drive and deepest meaning in their careers.

Wen Chaosheng broke into a grin and nodded. “Mm!”

Xi Zhui set the Hundred Flowers Award trophy on the nightstand before climbing back into bed.

It was past midnight now—the twenty-second. Their one-year anniversary as a couple.

But with Wen Chaosheng still so thoroughly drunk, Xi Zhui figured he’d forget everything come morning, just like in Gannan. Better to wait until the alcohol wore off and celebrate their milestone properly then.

He left only the bedside lamp on, pulled back the covers, and drew Wen Chaosheng down to lie beside him.

“Alright. Time to sleep.”

…

Wen Chaosheng’s mind was still swimming in alcohol, and now he had Xi Zhui’s promise of swapping trophies to fuel his excitement.

He didn’t complain or throw a drunken tantrum. Instead, he burrowed into the covers on his own, nuzzling this way and that in Xi Zhui’s arms.

One moment he’d pat his lover’s abs; the next, he’d pinch at his Adam’s apple. His boldness far exceeded his usual limits.

After an eternity of this, Xi Zhui finally lost patience and flipped back the edge of the blanket. “Wen Chaosheng.”

“Wu?”

Wen Chaosheng peeked out, his face entirely red—whether from the heat or drunken thrill, it was hard to say.

Xi Zhui fought back a grin at how adorable he was and made a playful threat. “Bedtime. Close your eyes, or I’ll kiss you.”

Normally, the word “kiss” was enough to fluster Wen Chaosheng into instant compliance.

But not this time.

…

Does that mean I can get a kiss if I don’t close my eyes?

Wen Chaosheng paused for a moment, then suddenly forced his eyes open wide with great effort.

Xi Zhui completely lost control of his smile, utterly defeated by the man before him.

He gently cupped the jaw of the person in his arms and asked knowingly, “Brother, what’s this? Not closing your eyes—do you want me to kiss you?”

Wen Chaosheng redoubled his efforts to keep his eyes wide open, not even blinking. “Mm.”

And then, just as he wished, he received Xi Zhui’s light kiss, a deeper one, and finally a passionate deep kiss.