Chapter 51

Water pattered in the bathroom.

Wen Chaosheng stared at the sliver of light leaking through the door crack. He sat dazed on the bed, unable to wrap his head around it—

How had Xi Zhui ended up in his bathroom taking a shower? Were they going to share the bed again tonight?

Memories of those two blurry nights from heavy drinking floated through his mind once more. He couldn’t recall the details anymore, but the warmth and pleasure carved into his body still lingered faintly, teasing his nerves at this very moment.

“…”

Wen Chaosheng drew a deep breath, forcing those improper thoughts away. At least he wasn’t drunk tonight—no risk of crossing any lines or acting too bold.

Before long, there was movement at the bathroom door.

Xi Zhui stepped out. He eyed Wen Chaosheng, who was still sitting primly on the edge of the bed. “It’s past midnight. Not sleeping yet?”

“I’m about to… to sleep.”

Wen Chaosheng clutched the soft quilt at his side, unable to pinpoint why he felt so tense.

“Xi Zhui, why don’t you give Xiao Chao a call? Ask when he’ll be back? Or we could get a spare room key from the front desk?”

Xi Zhui saw right through the evasion hidden deep in his eyes. “It’s not work hours now. Xiao Chao has his own social life. I can’t demand my assistant stick to me twenty-four-seven.”

“…”

“Besides, it’s past midnight. You really want me heading to the front desk dressed like this to ask for a key?”

Xi Zhui didn’t want Wen Chaosheng spotting his scars, so he’d wrapped himself in one of the hotel’s spare bathrobes.

It covered all the important spots, but as a male actor, parading downstairs in this getup wasn’t exactly appropriate.

Wen Chaosheng instinctively shrank back. “Then I’ll go downstairs and get one for you…”

“Wen Chaosheng.”

Xi Zhui cut him off preemptively. “Relax. I have no intention of doing anything to you.”

He rubbed his brow as if in discomfort, then retreated to the sofa with a tactical yield. “I’m genuinely unwell. That hot shower only made the dizziness worse.”

“I’ll just crash on your sofa for a bit. You can turn off the lights and sleep—I won’t bother you.”

“…”

The image of Xi Zhui’s tall frame curling up on a hotel sofa tugged at Wen Chaosheng’s heartstrings. “Then… just sleep on the bed.”

It wasn’t the first time, after all. No point fussing over it.

Xi Zhui’s brow arched slightly. “Really?”

“Mm.”

Wen Chaosheng’s response came out soft. He didn’t quite dare meet Xi Zhui’s gaze.

He scooted over, leaving the other half of the bed empty.

Xi Zhui didn’t stand on ceremony. He seized the opportunity to slide into bed and flicked off the bedside lamp while he was at it.

Snap!

Darkness swallowed the room.

It had been a long time since Wen Chaosheng had faced Xi Zhui in a state of complete sobriety. He could feel the heat radiating from the body so close by—his heart pounded like a drum. He had no choice but to turn his back.

To his surprise, Xi Zhui pressed up against him in the dimness. “What are you so afraid of?”

Warm breath ghosted over the nape of his neck, sending a shiver through him. Wen Chaosheng flinched sensitively and tried to edge toward the side of the bed. “I…”

Xi Zhui had anticipated it. He barred Wen Chaosheng’s waist through the quilt. “Don’t move. Any farther and you’ll tumble right off the bed, quilt and all.”

Wen Chaosheng went rigid, frozen like a statue. “Oh.”

Xi Zhui chuckled to himself. “You were pretty bold when you suggested being friends with benefits. What’s this? Now that we’re in the same bed, you’re itching to bolt?”

With his back turned, Wen Chaosheng mumbled guiltily. “That morning, I still wasn’t fully sober. My head wasn’t clear… I was just talking nonsense.”

“Is that so?”

In the darkness, Xi Zhui’s gaze lingered on the nape of Wen Chaosheng’s neck, which still gleamed faintly. He was tempted to lean in and bite.

“Then if I took you seriously… and wanted to hook up with Director Wen tonight—would Director Wen let me?”

“…”

What?

Wen Chaosheng’s breath hitched. He didn’t dare move a muscle.

Deep in his mind, two little figures sprang up, locked in fierce combat with swords and sticks.

One urged him to grant Xi Zhui whatever he asked for, reasonable or not. The other insisted it was just drunken ramblings—not to be taken seriously.

In the end, reason prevailed.

Wen Chaosheng twisted his head just enough to catch Xi Zhui’s sidelong glance for a split second before whipping it back. “You’re drunk. We have filming tomorrow. Better rest early.”

“…”

Xi Zhui wasn’t surprised by the predictable answer, and he wasn’t disappointed.

This reserved, restrained—nay, evasive—side was Wen Chaosheng’s true temperament. The version that got drunk and demanded kisses was the rare, hidden one.

He harbored feelings for Wen Chaosheng, and desire too. But with their relationship at such a standstill, it wouldn’t do to stir up more chaos.

“I was joking. It’s been a long day—I’m beat.”

Xi Zhui shifted his gaze from the little mole on that nape and eased the pressure of his arm over the quilt. “But you’re really okay sleeping like that?”

Wen Chaosheng lay perfectly still. “I can sleep this way.”

A faint glimmer passed through Xi Zhui’s eyes. He simply closed them and fell silent.

The room settled into quiet. Only a sliver of night filtered through the curtain gap, while muffled sounds drifted up faintly from downstairs now and then, too indistinct to make out.

With no further movement from behind him, Wen Chaosheng’s racing heart finally began to calm.

Only then did he remember he hadn’t taken his medicine tonight. Getting out of bed now to rummage for it would surely pique Xi Zhui’s suspicion.

“…”

Forget it.

If he couldn’t sleep, he could always sneak peeks at Xi Zhui’s sleeping face. It was a rare chance—even staring till dawn wouldn’t be a problem.

Clutching that small selfish thought, Wen Chaosheng closed his eyes and pretended to sleep.

The night deepened through the curtain gap. Gradually, the breathing behind him evened out into steady rhythm.

Convinced the drunken Xi Zhui had sunk into deep slumber, Wen Chaosheng cautiously turned over to observe.

Xi Zhui was still lying on his side, but his brows were tightly furrowed, as if caught in an uneasy sleep. Was it a nightmare? Or just the hangover headache?

On instinct, Wen Chaosheng reached out a hand. He hesitated for two seconds before his fingertips made contact with those furrowed brows, gently stroking to smooth them.

“Xi Zhui, good night.”

He hoped Xi Zhui would have sweet dreams on this first night of the new year. Unexpectedly, the man in slumber suddenly stirred.

He seized Wen Chaosheng’s wrist with unerring precision and yanked him firmly into his arms.

Their distance vanished in an instant. Even through their thin layers of clothing, they could feel the heat of each other’s skin.

Panic surged through Wen Chaosheng. He tried to pull back and break free, but Xi Zhui wrapped around him with arms and legs. “Don’t move. I’m sleepy.”

“Xi Zhui?”

“…Sleepy.”

Xi Zhui dipped his head into the crook of Wen Chaosheng’s neck. The hand on his back stroked up and down in a habitual soothing motion. “Be good. Time to sleep—no fidgeting.”

The strength of the embrace and the soothing words felt so achingly familiar.

Wen Chaosheng’s subtle struggles ceased without thought. An inexplicable sting pricked at his eyes.

Back during their brief time living together, Xi Zhui had confessed to loving the scent of him. He’d hold Wen Chaosheng like this every night to sleep, and in turn, Wen Chaosheng drew a profound sense of security from it—enough for night after night of deep, restful slumber.

Xi Zhui had once laughingly called them each other’s “Abebe.”

The current Xi Zhui was most likely drunk and half-asleep, defaulting to a lover’s embrace.

Wen Chaosheng knew he ought to push him away. But selfish longing overpowered his reason.

Silently, he nestled his face against Xi Zhui’s chest. Eyes closed, he listened to the steady heartbeat, felt the warmth of that body, and let himself sink back into an old dream.

“…”

Wen Chaosheng had figured he’d lie awake until dawn. But the sense of security in Xi Zhui’s arms was as potent as ever. Sleepiness crept up on him before he knew it.

He didn’t know how much time passed before even breathing rippled from the embrace. The “sleeping” Xi Zhui finally cracked his eyes open.

Gently, he eased back a little, peering through the hazy night to confirm the peacefully slumbering Wen Chaosheng in his arms. Only then did he fully relax.

“Good night. Sweet dreams.”

…

Wen Chaosheng slept far more deeply than he’d imagined.

When he woke again, he felt like he was sunk into a cloud of soft cotton. Warmth enveloped every inch of him, bringing an indescribable surge of vitality.

He lingered in a daze for a good while before a voice sounded from right above his head.

“Awake?”

“…”

Wen Chaosheng blinked for two seconds, then looked up into Xi Zhui’s smiling eyes. “Director Wen, you really know how to sleep.”

“You snoozed straight through till noon—twelve o’clock. If you’d kept clinging to me, we’d both be late for the afternoon shoot.”

Only then did Wen Chaosheng realize he was the one hugging Xi Zhui. His face flushed as he let go. “Sorry, I overslept.”

Already noon?

Why hadn’t Xi Zhui woken him sooner?

Seeing Wen Chaosheng fully alert, Xi Zhui sat up from the bed. “We have a car booked for twelve-thirty to the makeup building. I’ll go wash up first—you take your time.”

Wen Chaosheng nodded blankly. Once Xi Zhui had vanished into the bathroom, he finally grabbed his phone.

Sure enough, it was twelve-fifteen.

Fortunately, the afternoon call sheet started at two, with Yu Yan’s solo scene first. He and Xi Zhui both had time to make it.

A little later, Xi Zhui emerged from the bathroom. No beating around the bush: “I need to head back to my room and change, then straight to makeup.”

Wen Chaosheng nodded. “Got it.”

Xi Zhui noted the marked improvement in his complexion and pressed gently. “Sleep well last night?”

“Mm.”

More than well—he’d slept exceptionally.

Free from the side effects of his sleep aids, that long-absent burst of energy left Wen Chaosheng feeling remarkably refreshed.

Xi Zhui chuckled. “Good to hear.”

Looked like this year’s birthday wish had some real power after all.

Seizing the moment, Xi Zhui added, “No time for lunch together today. Grab something to eat before heading to set—no skimping.”

Wen Chaosheng eyed Xi Zhui’s plainly uplifted mood and nodded a beat late. “Oh.”

“I’m off, then?”

“Mm.”

Not until Xi Zhui had stepped out and shut the door behind him—

Wen Chaosheng was still a little dizzy. His head sank back into the pillow, but his heart pounded wildly without stopping.

What was going on?

Had he overslept? Or was he still dreaming?

Otherwise, why would he suddenly feel that familiar sensation toward Xi Zhui—the kind that came from being in love?

…

The crew’s filming progressed smoothly. The actors’ performances improved day by day, and Wen Chaosheng himself gradually settled back into a normal routine.

He consulted his psychologist overseas online. After her assessment and confirmation, he even reduced his daily medication.

“Cut!”

Another long night shoot wrapped up.

Wen Chaosheng checked the footage to ensure everything was perfect, then announced the end of the day just before everyone collapsed from exhaustion. “Great work, everyone. That’s it for tonight. We’re done.”

“The director worked hard too.”

“Wrap! Wrap!”

Scattered responses rose from the staff.

Yu Yan snapped out of character first. He grabbed his phone and bolted from the set, forgetting to even say goodbye to Director Wen.

…

Xi Zhui watched Yu Yan’s anxious retreating figure.

What was up with that kid? Lately, he’d been distracted the moment they called cut, constantly checking his phone.

Fortunately, Yu Yan’s on-set performance was still solid. Otherwise, the strict Director Wen would have pulled him aside for a talking-to.

Just then, some crew members carried a prop box past. One of them grumbled casually, “Man, tomorrow’s schedule is another full day of big scenes and night shoots. Just thinking about it wears me out.”

“Hang in there,” his colleague replied while helping with the box. “Filming’s never easy. Besides, didn’t Director Wen say we’d get half a day off on Christmas? It’s coming up soon.”

Xiao Chao hurried over and handed Xi Zhui an insulated water bottle. “Brother Xi, what are you spacing out for? The director already called it. You gonna stand here like an idiot?”

Xi Zhui took a shallow sip of the warm water. “What time is it?”

Xiao Chao got the hint and checked his phone. “Almost midnight. Eight minutes to go.”

Xi Zhui’s gaze drifted past his assistant to Wen Chaosheng, who was still seated at the monitor. He shoved the bottle back into Xiao Chao’s hand. “I’m heading to the RV. No one comes up without my permission—not even you.”

Xiao Chao had long since figured out his boss’s intentions. He whispered, “Got it!”

Xi Zhui walked toward the monitor tent. “Director Wen.”

Wen Chaosheng heard that familiar voice and looked up. “Yeah?”

Xi Zhui raised an eyebrow slightly. “You done? I’ve got something important to discuss.”

Wen Chaosheng straightened up seriously. “What is it?”

“Too many people around here.” Xi Zhui gestured. “Come with me.”

Wen Chaosheng hesitated at first, but the assistant director nearby waved it off casually. “Go ahead, Director. You and Teacher Xi go on. We’re wrapped anyway—I’ll handle cleanup.”

“Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Wen Chaosheng grabbed his backpack and followed Xi Zhui out quietly. They reached the RV, and only then did he pause uncertainly.

“Xi Zhui, what is it exactly? Can’t you just tell me here?”

The crew’s parking lot was fully enclosed, but paparazzi sometimes lurked for off-duty shots.

If someone snapped them boarding the same RV together, it could harm Xi Zhui’s reputation.

Xi Zhui guessed his concern and arched a brow. “If you get on with me now, it’ll just look like the director hopped into the lead actor’s RV to talk shop.”

“But if you make me hold your hand to get on… now that would stir up real trouble if it got out.”

With that, he opened the RV door himself. “Your choice—pick one.”

…

Wen Chaosheng’s brow furrowed in conflict, but he obediently followed.

The electric door slid shut, blocking out the cold and noise. The RV’s interior was spacious, equipped with everything needed.

Wen Chaosheng had eaten lunch or dinner in Xi Zhui’s RV more than once lately, but there had always been an assistant or someone else around. Not like now—

Deep into the night, just the two of them.

No matter how he thought about it, Wen Chaosheng felt he shouldn’t linger. But he was curious about this “important matter,” and before he could ask, Xi Zhui moved first.

Xi Zhui pulled a cake from the mini-fridge and set it on the table. Only a dim overhead light was on, illuminating the four-inch cream cake.

“Here—this is what I meant.”

…

Wen Chaosheng made out the initials on top—his own. “You… this cake…”

“What? You remember my birthday from a month ago, but forgot your own?”

Xi Zhui noted his predictably stunned reaction, then glanced at the time on the dashboard. “Three minutes till the twenty-second.”

Strictly speaking, Wen Chaosheng’s birthday was tomorrow. But tomorrow’s schedule ran straight into another late-night shoot, with no chance of wrapping by midnight.

And given his personality, he’d never agree to delay filming for a celebration, let alone a big group party.

Xi Zhui had decided to mark the occasion privately at the stroke of midnight.

…

Wen Chaosheng stared unblinkingly at the cake made just for him, his heart swelling with emotion. “Did you make this cake yourself?”

With Xi Zhui’s current fame, he couldn’t just pop into a bakery anymore. This little cake had been whipped up in the RV during a break in today’s shoot.

The tools and time were limited, so it was just a basic one.

Xi Zhui thought it was mediocre and, ever image-conscious, denied it flat-out. “Bought it.”

“Oh.”

Wen Chaosheng wasn’t disappointed. He was still thrilled.

Truth be told, he hadn’t had a proper birthday in years.

During his time abroad, he’d buy a single slice of cake on his birthday, light a candle somewhere private, and make a wish alone.

Xi Zhui pulled out his spare lighter and lit the candle stuck in the cake. “Want to make a wish?”

Wen Chaosheng nodded. “Yeah.”

The clock ticked over to midnight on the twenty-second. Xi Zhui met the expectation in the other man’s eyes and smiled, raising a brow. “Happy birthday. Make your wish.”

“Okay.”

Wen Chaosheng’s heart stirred. He closed his eyes devoutly and made the same birthday wish he always had these past years—

First wish: May Xi Zhui never fall ill.

Second wish: May Xi Zhui never get hurt.

Third wish: May Xi Zhui’s future life be smooth sailing in all things.