At four in the morning, Ji Yunzhang released the hand he’d draped around Jing Li’s waist and quietly slipped out of bed. He needed to reach S City before noon, so his flight was extremely early.
This was the deepest hour of the night, when the sky was at its darkest. Jing Li slept soundly and peacefully, his breaths shallow, showing no sign of stirring.
He lay on his side, half his face sunk into the pillow, brows relaxed, expression light and content—as if lost in a sweet dream.
Ji Yunzhang watched him quietly for a moment, then couldn’t help reaching out. His fingertip ghosted over Jing Li’s cheek before he bent down and pressed the lightest of kisses to his forehead.
Reluctantly, he rose, grabbed his suitcase, and left the bedroom.
The door clicked shut behind him, muffling all sound.
Half-asleep, Jing Li instinctively shifted toward Ji Yunzhang’s warmth, only to find it gone. His eyes snapped open. Remembering that Ji Yunzhang was leaving today, he scrambled out of bed.
He yanked open the door. The lights were on outside, but the room was empty. “Teacher Ji?” he called.
“I’m here.”
Ji Yunzhang stubbed out his cigarette and stepped in from the balcony. Jing Li’s face lit up with a smile. He darted over and threw himself into Ji Yunzhang’s arms, where strong hands caught him around the waist. “Why are you awake?”
“Woke up the second you weren’t there.” Jing Li sniffed the air. “You smoked?”
“Feeling a little drowsy. Needed a pick-me-up.”
Noticing Jing Li’s bare feet, Ji Yunzhang frowned. “Where are your shoes?”
Without waiting for an answer, he scooped him up.
It was May now, and X City’s temperatures were warm, but the guest room’s air conditioning was cranked low, chilling the space. Bare feet on that floor would feel like ice.
Jing Li yelped as he was lifted off the ground, arms flying around Ji Yunzhang’s neck on instinct. Then he relaxed against him with a grin, confessing honestly, “I was afraid you’d left without me noticing.”
Ji Yunzhang’s heart melted at the words. He settled Jing Li on the sofa and brushed another kiss over his lips. “Let me grab your slippers.”
He fetched the cotton slippers and set them down in front of Jing Li, but Jing Li ignored them. Instead, he knelt beside Ji Yunzhang on the sofa, leaning into his side and burrowing closer.
“Just one more hug.” His voice turned wheedling.
Ji Yunzhang’s lips quirked. He hooked an arm around Jing Li’s waist, pulling him onto his lap. His thumb traced gently over those soft lips, amusement warming his tone. “Want a kiss?”
Jing Li didn’t answer with words. He just leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Ji Yunzhang’s fingertip, eyes sparkling with an unmistakable “Yes.”
Ji Yunzhang’s smile deepened. He cupped Jing Li’s chin and claimed his mouth.
The kiss swung from fierce to tender, woven through with a lingering reluctance to part. When they finally did, Jing Li splayed his palm over Ji Yunzhang’s chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat as he met his gaze. “Call me when you land.”
“I will.” Ji Yunzhang caressed his cheek.
“Leaving now?”
“Almost time.”
Jing Li hummed in acknowledgment and stood, only to pause and wrap Ji Yunzhang in another tight hug. “Miss me,” he said, dead serious.
Gentle light fractured in Ji Yunzhang’s eyes, like starlight scattered across a midnight sky. He held Jing Li’s gaze, his voice soft as velvet, his kiss brushing his ear.
“I’ll miss you more than you know.”
He led Jing Li back to the bedroom and said warmly, “It’s not even five yet. Way too early. Get some more sleep.”
Jing Li perched on the edge of the bed and nodded. “Okay.”
Ji Yunzhang ruffled his hair. “Sleep well.”
Jing Li hummed again, slid under the covers, and let Ji Yunzhang tuck him in. Their lips met one last time. “I’m off.”
The bedroom door shut with a soft click. Moments later, the living room light flicked off, followed by the front door closing.
Gone.
A wave of glumness settled over Jing Li.
Sleep was the last thing on his mind. He lay there staring at the ceiling, resisting the pull of exhaustion. But it was so early. After tossing and turning under the blankets for what felt like forever, he finally gave in, sat up, and reached for his phone to kill some time.
The screen unlocked to reveal an audio message from Ji Yunzhang, sent after he’d dozed off the night before. Jing Li tapped play—and recognized it instantly. It was the second chapter of Flipped, the book he’d asked him to read aloud.
He’d conked out after the first chapter last time. This was the continuation.
A smile tugged at his lips. Jing Li lay back down, phone propped nearby, and let Ji Yunzhang’s low, soothing voice wash over him as it narrated the story. Before long, sleep claimed him.
~~~
Late May in X City meant rain—torrential downpours, misty drizzles, crackling thunderstorms—all manner of wet weather rotating through without mercy for an entire week.
The deluge wrecked Xie Jun’s shooting schedule, forcing him to front-load every rain scene. Jing Li had one coming up.
To ward off colds from the soaking, the crew made everyone chug a massive mug of ginger tea beforehand. Jing Li loathed the stuff. He pinched his nose and grimaced his way through it.
Xu Linlin strolled over, hands clasped behind her back. She took one look at his face and burst out laughing, a lollipop clamped between her teeth. “Candy?” she offered.
Jing Li didn’t hesitate. “Thanks.”
She handed it over, then fixed him with a stare, her expression screaming “I need a favor.”
Jing Li got it immediately and smiled as he asked, “Got another question you can’t solve?”
Ever since a couple of days earlier, when he’d seen Xu Linlin nearly tearing her hair out over a tough problem and had casually tutored her through it, she’d made a habit of bringing her homework to him for help.
Xu Linlin flashed him a thumbs-up. “Teacher Jing, you’re so smart.”
She sat down beside him and pulled out the math worksheet she’d been hiding behind her back, sliding it in front of Jing Li. One hand scratched awkwardly at her cheek. “I didn’t do any of the ones I couldn’t figure out.”
“Let me take a look first.” Jing Li took the sheet, then paused. “…”
Xu Linlin fiddled with her fingers. “Is it… a lot?”
“…Not just a lot.” It was basically the whole thing left blank.
“This is a comprehensive practice sheet, and these question types are all on the final exam,” she said sheepishly, propping her chin in her hands with a sigh. “I can handle some of these concepts on their own, but when they’re mixed together like this, I’m completely lost.”
Jing Li understood exactly why Xu Linlin was struggling.
From last year straight through to this one, she’d starred in two dramas back-to-back, plus served as a regular guest on a variety show. Even with a private tutor, her schedule was so packed that lessons could only be crammed into fleeting gaps of free time—nowhere near enough to keep up.
“Let’s look at the questions.” Jing Li said.
He’d majored in math in college and had tutored before, so every high school exam point and concept was etched firmly in his memory. Explaining problems to Xu Linlin was child’s play.
He skimmed the questions, and his approach clicked into place.
Grabbing some scratch paper, he started with the multiple-choice section. “For function problems like this, no matter how they’re worded, the first step is always to sketch the graph…”
Jing Li explained with focus and patience, weaving together the related concepts to help Xu Linlin solidify her grasp. She nodded along frequently, moments of clarity dawning on her face.
By the time they finished the sheet, Xu Linlin had gotten it all and couldn’t help marveling once more, “You explain it so well.”
The set was ready, and the director’s assistant came to fetch Jing Li. He called back, “Coming right away,” and gave Xu Linlin a smile. “Grab some similar question types and work through them using the approach I just showed you. Practice makes perfect.”
Xu Linlin clutched her pen and nodded eagerly, flashing him a “fighting” gesture.
~~~
Pei Yingxing refused to go abroad and had a massive blowout with his parents. With nowhere else to turn, he thought of Fu Bo on instinct and headed straight to his place.
He stepped out of the subway station just as a heavy rain began dumping down. He hadn’t brought anything along—not even his phone, which had died. He lingered at the entrance for a few minutes, but the downpour showed no signs of stopping, so he plunged right into it.
The camera panned from Jing Li’s back to his face in close-up, capturing his expression and eyes. His lips were pressed stubbornly tight, his gaze drifting without focus, brimming with bewilderment, confusion, doubt, and sorrow.
Xie Jun yelled “Cut,” signaling a retake.
The take flubbed seven more times in a row. Xie Jun called a break, lit up a cigarette, and replayed the shot on the monitor over and over, mulling it deeply before having his assistant summon the director of photography.
Jing Li was bundled in a massive bath towel by Le Xiaoxiao—his clothes still couldn’t be changed. They could at least dry his hair, though. Le Xiaoxiao fetched the blow dryer, plugged it in, and ran it buzzing over his wet locks while sending the female assistant for another cup of ginger tea. He watched to make sure Jing Li drank every drop.
After downing the ginger tea, they reset for the shot. This time, Xie Jun dropped the close-up and went with a wide instead. He didn’t call cut, and Jing Li flowed seamlessly into the next beat.
Fu Bo’s neighborhood was less than two hundred meters from the subway exit. Pei Yingxing made it to the gate, only to be stopped by security, who demanded to know who he was visiting, which building, and the exact unit.
Pei Yingxing froze. He knew Fu Bo lived here, but the precise address? No clue.
He dropped his gaze in dejection and turned to go.
“Pei Yingxing?”
Pei Yingxing looked up. Beneath a black umbrella, Fu Bo’s face came into view. “You here for me?”
Pei Yingxing murmured a faint “mm,” all but drowned out by the rain.
Fu Bo heard it anyway. Taking in Pei Yingxing’s thoroughly soaked state, he knit his brows. “Come to my place first. Shower off and change out of those wet clothes. We’ll sort the rest later.”
With that, he took Pei Yingxing by the wrist and led him inside.
~~~
The scene wrapped after Jing Li had been soaked for nearly an hour. Once he’d changed out of his drenched clothes and dried his hair, Xie Jun approached. “Want to head back and rest?”
Jing Li blinked in surprise, then shook his head. “No need.”
Xie Jun studied him a moment longer, as if verifying he was truly fine. Jing Li blinked again. “?”
“Then have another cup of ginger tea to chase off the chill.” Xie Jun handed him one from his assistant.
Jing Li had already forced down three cups and had zero interest in a fourth, but Xie Jun lingered, waiting until it was gone.
“…”
In the end, Jing Li drank it with a helpless, wry smile.
Xie Jun was finally satisfied. “Rest for now. We’ll shoot the next scene at four-thirty. My assistant will come get you when it’s time.”
It was only three o’clock now, leaving an hour and a half until four-thirty. Jing Li had already memorized his lines for the upcoming scene and had nothing else to do, so he pulled out his phone and turned into a full-blown internet addict.
When he spotted the Hot Search, he realized entertainment reporters had captured photos and videos of Zhou Suye and Wen Yang out having fun together—and leaked them all.
He skimmed through the reports from the major entertainment outlets in one quick pass, then dialed Wen Yang.
It took a long moment before Wen Yang finally picked up.
“I saw the Hot Search,” Jing Li said bluntly, then asked with genuine concern, “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Wen Yang paused to say something to the person next to him, mentioning Jing Li’s name.
Jing Li guessed right away. “Zhou Suye’s with you?”
There was a shy edge to Wen Yang’s voice. “Yeah.”
Remembering he hadn’t told Jing Li yet, he added, “We’re together now.”
“I figured as much. That question you asked me over dinner last time gave it all away,” Jing Li said, chuckling. “Congrats.”
Wen Yang sounded delighted. “Thanks.”
“You two planning to go official with it?”
Without an announcement, this so-called “relationship reveal”—lacking any hard evidence—could simply be ignored and left to fizzle out through cold treatment, just like Zhou Suye’s past rumors.
Out of curiosity later on, he’d asked Ji Yunzhang about it and learned those scandals had all been the other parties riding Zhou Suye’s coattails for hype. But since they were Xingxiu artists, blowing them up could actually generate revenue for Zhou Suye. So unless it got too outrageous or dragged his name through the mud, he usually couldn’t be bothered to waste effort on it.
—Zhou Suye was a pure merchant at heart. To him, profit came first.
Jing Li didn’t want them brushing it off like that; it wouldn’t be fair to Wen Yang. What would the netizens say? What would the fans think? Would they assume he was just using Zhou Suye to boost his own profile?
“We talked it over just now and decided to make it official,” Wen Yang replied, his tone brimming with joy.
Jing Li let out a breath of relief and grinned. “Perfect.”
After hanging up, Jing Li paused for a moment, then fired off a WeChat message to Ji Yunzhang about the whole thing.
Ji Yunzhang wasn’t tied up and replied almost immediately.
[Ji Yunzhang]: Yeah, I saw.
[Ji Yunzhang]: Rain scene done? You feeling alright?
Jing Li was caught off guard: 【How did you know I was shooting a rain scene today?】
[Ji Yunzhang]: I got your shooting schedule from Xie Jun.
[Ji Yunzhang]: You drank the ginger tea like a good boy, right? I asked Xie Jun to make sure you did.
Jing Li finally pieced it together—why Xie Jun had been so insistent about him finishing every last drop before leaving.
Having someone watch over him and care like this filled Jing Li’s heart with warmth. He rested his head on his arms, a smile blooming from the corners of his mouth all the way to his eyes and the tips of his brows.
