Chapter 8: Doctor Bottom x Celebrity Top

When Jing Chi woke up in the morning, the person who should have been lying beside him was nowhere to be seen.

He sat up, rubbing his temples, and couldn’t help but frown as he muttered, “Is this guy’s body made of iron or something? Can’t he rest a bit more before heading off to work?”

But as he lifted his head, he saw Feng Qinghan leaning against the doorframe.

Morning light fell across the man’s profile. Today, he was dressed in simple loungewear, his dark hair softly tousled across his forehead. His face was no longer as pale as it had been yesterday—instead, it held a touch of healthy color. His long lashes were slightly lowered, his lips pursed with a faint tint of hue, and his entire demeanor seemed a few degrees gentler.

Jing Chi felt like the man had changed somehow, especially in the way he looked at him. Beyond the usual detachment, there was now some inexplicable emotion that Jing Chi couldn’t quite read.

He touched the tip of his nose, feeling a bit awkward inside, and asked with genuine concern, “Um, are you feeling better now?”

Feng Qinghan let out a faint “Mm.”

His gaze shifted from the young man’s eyes to the lips that Jing Chi was nervously pursing. He narrowed his eyes slightly before looking away, saying calmly, “You’re awake. Come and eat.”

With that, he turned and left the room.

The moment he was gone, Jing Chi—who had been tense all over from that stare—finally let out a breath of relief.

The man’s temper seemed to have improved out of nowhere, and Jing Chi wasn’t quite used to it yet. How strange.

After tidying himself up, Jing Chi sat down at the dining table. He just needed to arrive at the Broadcasting Studio by nine for today’s recording.

Aside from that bowl of noodles before, this was only the second time he’d eaten a meal cooked by Feng Qinghan.

He unceremoniously took a sip of the porridge first, then mumbled around a mouthful, “How could I let a patient like you make me breakfast? I’m really sorry about this.”

Yet his eating didn’t slow down one bit—he didn’t look embarrassed in the slightest.

Feng Qinghan offered no comment on his words.

Jing Chi eyed the man across from him, who was eating with slow, deliberate movements. Normally, this guy wouldn’t eat with him at all.

And in the past, whatever Jing Chi said, the man would either shoot back coldly or pin him with that freezing stare that could silence anyone without a word. But today, he said nothing at all. It was too out of character.

Jing Chi blinked in confusion and hesitantly asked, “Did the fever fry your brain or something?”

He watched as the man across from him paused at his words, his expression darkening a shade. Feng Qinghan lifted his eyes, giving him a cool sidelong glance, his voice icy: “Can’t even eating shut your mouth?”

“Now that’s more like it.” Jing Chi was satisfied and lowered his head to keep shoveling in the food.

Feng Qinghan: “…”

Did this guy actually like being spoken to harshly?

Or had he himself been that terrifying before? For a moment, he found himself doubting it.

Once Jing Chi had eaten his fill, he waved cheerfully at Feng Qinghan, brimming with good spirits. “Brother, I’m off to record the variety show!”

He was just about to head out when Feng Qinghan’s voice came from behind him. “Wait.”

“Hm?” Jing Chi turned back in puzzlement, blinking at him.

Feng Qinghan cleared his throat lightly, his tone a touch uneasy. “I can drive you there.”

As if worried Jing Chi might find it odd and say something infuriating like he had at breakfast, he added, “To thank you for taking care of me last night.”

So that was why he’d been acting so strangely today.

Jing Chi smiled, thinking that the so-called antagonist was really just an ordinary guy after all.

He could feel uneasy from someone else’s care and wanted to repay the favor somehow.

What Jing Chi didn’t know was that the man might have even deeper thoughts brewing in his mind.

Of course, even if he did know, he’d probably just feel smug about it and sigh that it was all because his bro was too damn charming.

Jing Chi walked over to Feng Qinghan. Taking advantage of the man’s rare friendliness, he cupped the man’s face in his hands and said earnestly, “Taking care of my boyfriend is only natural. If Brother wants to repay me, then just rest up properly. I don’t want to see such a handsome face get ruined— what a shame that would be.”

He then took a step back, waved at Feng Qinghan, and bolted out of there.

After all, he had no idea where the man’s bottom line was. If he pissed him off again, it might not end well. Better to play it safe and make a run for it.

Feng Qinghan lightly touched his cheek with his fingertips, still feeling the lingering warmth from the young man’s palms.

This wasn’t the first time the young man had called him handsome. Before, it had only filled him with disgust or indifference. But hearing it now felt entirely different.

The words were the same, but the heart of the one listening had changed.

.

Meanwhile, Jing Chi arrived at the Broadcasting Studio right on time.

“Hurry, get the actor’s makeup done!” the staff member called out, directing the crew.

Soon, someone led Jing Chi into the makeup room.

He sat there with his eyes closed, feeling someone applying products to his face and dusting on powder.

The makeup artist gazed at the flawless face before her and couldn’t help but sigh.

“If every celebrity had a face like yours, us makeup artists would all be out of work. Your skin is impossibly good, and your features are so refined. Looks like I just need to give you a light base coat.”

Jing Chi opened his eyes, his brows curving slightly as he smiled at the young makeup artist.

Her heart screamed inwardly. How could anyone be so handsome yet so adorably soft, like a well-behaved little puppy she just wanted to scoop up and take home?

For a moment, she doubted all those rumors online. How could someone with such clear, beautiful eyes be as awful as they claimed?

As Jing Chi left, the makeup artist cheered him on. “You’ve got this! I believe you can turn things around on the show.”

Jing Chi realized then that the entertainment industry still had its share of sweet people. He smiled and nodded.

“Welcome, everyone, to the recording site of Finding the Male Lead! After our promotions, I’m sure you’ve all gotten to know our competing actors a bit.”

“First, let’s give a warm welcome to our judges!”

“In the first seat is this year’s freshly crowned Film Emperor, Ye Shumo—Film Emperor Ye!”

As the host’s voice faded, Ye Shumo rose to his feet and nodded to the audience with a gentle smile.

The fans in the crowd erupted instantly, their screams and cheers filling the air.

Jing Chi, waiting in the holding area, felt his own calm heart stir a little from the fans’ infectious enthusiasm.

This must be the Film Emperor’s charm.

“In the middle seat is a familiar face to us all—someone whose shows we’ve watched since we were kids. Please welcome Teacher Liu Yinxue!”

Liu Yinxue was a nationally acclaimed actress who had starred in countless beloved serious dramas. Though she was already sixty, to Jing Chi she looked no more than early forties. Female stars really did age like fine wine.

The remaining two judges were a veteran supporting actor of many years and a young director known for several indie films.

The veteran was named Zeng Ming, and the young director was Ye Yifan.

“Now, onto our first segment! We have sixteen up-and-coming actors competing this time. Please look to the big screen for their introductions.”

The screen now played the self-introductions they had recorded the day before, along with clips from their notable works.

Jing Chi watched the segment featuring the original host’s drama. Without those later events, the original host would have shone brightly on this stage long ago.

Actually, it didn’t feel too late even now.

Once the intro videos ended, the host explained the rules.

“We’ll have four rounds of acting challenges, with public online voting and an elimination format to find the best male lead in everyone’s hearts. The champion will land the male lead role in Yuexing Media’s big-budget IP drama, Long Song Thousand Crossings.”

“And now, I declare the first Acting Showcase officially underway!”

The audience burst into enthusiastic applause.

“Please have our sixteen actors come on stage one by one to draw lots. This draw will determine the order for selecting scripts in the first round.”

Jing Chi was slotted last for the draw, and he pulled number 16—meaning he’d pick his script last.

Heh, as if he didn’t get it. Just the production team’s little tricks.

When his turn came, Jing Chi looked at the script in his hand and flipped open the first page. The drama title and character name jumped out at him.

Boundless Dark Night—Ye Qianxing.

It was a drama that had blown up after airing, especially this role, which had sparked plenty of controversy.

An ambiguous anti-hero with a devil-may-care attitude, the character fell for the female lead after she saved him once. He bantered with her constantly, rescued her several times, and in the end, willingly gave his life when she needed it.

Dog-blood for sure, but undeniably classic.

The role’s challenge lay in the heavy fight scenes, which most actors couldn’t pull off convincingly.

The original performer had relied on stunt doubles, leading to a backlash after airing.

So everyone else had steered clear of it when picking scripts.

But Jing Chi was perfect for it.

His acting might not be top-tier, but when it came to fight choreography, that was his wheelhouse.

Bai Yusheng watched Jing Chi with smug glee, certain this guy was done for and headed for elimination.

Jing Chi couldn’t stand the sight of the little villain gloating. As he passed by, he remarked, “You’ve got a crooked nose.”

Bai Yusheng was so startled that he hurriedly touched his nose, only to find nothing wrong with it at all. When he looked up, he saw Jing Chi beaming at him with a brilliant smile.

He knew he’d been tricked again. It nearly gave him an internal injury from sheer exasperation.

After the scripts had been drawn, the host announced that each one would be paired with a corresponding mentor.

Coincidentally, the mentor assigned to this script was none other than Ye Shumo.

Jing Chi greeted him obediently. “Hello, Teacher Ye.”

“I heard you chose the script for Boundless Dark Night?” Ye Shumo smiled as he looked at the young man across from him, his tone mild.

Jing Chi nodded. “Teacher Ye, is there a problem?”

“Do you feel confident about the segment taken from this script?”

Jing Chi didn’t know why Ye Shumo was asking, but he replied with confidence anyway. “Yes.”

Jing Chi’s decisiveness caught Ye Shumo off guard for a moment. Then he smiled and explained, “This drama was directed by a friend of mine. Back then, he never found a suitable actor for the role, and it was one of his biggest regrets. So if you run into any issues, don’t hesitate to come to me. I hope you can help make up for that regret this time.”

“Thank you, Teacher Ye.” Jing Chi nodded.

Setting all else aside, he had a pretty good impression of this gentle Film Emperor beauty.

The actors were given three days to polish this scene.

During that time, the crew would provide a rehearsal space along with any necessary props. However, supporting extras would only appear for the formal performance showcase. These three days were strictly for solo practice.

The crew would also film program footage during this period, using a combination of live streams and pre-recorded segments to be aired later.

Jing Chi reviewed the script’s content. It consisted mainly of two parts: action scenes and emotional scenes.

He mastered the action scenes in just one day. The emotional scenes, though—that was what he was struggling to get right.

In the play, the villain learned that the female lead wanted to kill him, yet he willingly gripped the sword himself and chose to meet his end at her hand.

Jing Chi couldn’t comprehend such profound emotions. How could anyone willingly give up their life for another person?

He truly didn’t understand.

After all, you could like as many people as you wanted, but you only got one life.