Chapter 20

“……”

Wen Chaosheng stared in disbelief, his eyes widening as if he thought he was dreaming.

A flush quickly spread across his ears and then to his face. He stammered, unable to form a complete sentence. “You, you… how… I…”

Xi Zhui hadn’t expected such an intense reaction from Wen Chaosheng. Surprised yet amused, he feigned confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something wrong with this form of address? I thought you’d always wanted to hear it.”

“……”

Wen Chaosheng’s face grew even redder.

“It wasn’t what you said? You’re older than me anyway.” Xi Zhui suppressed a mischievous smile and leaned in closer, calling out again, “Brother?”

“I… you…”

Wen Chaosheng was at a complete loss. He shyly averted his eyes.

The lingering grievance and frustration in his heart crumbled easily under the impact of those two “Brother” calls.

Struggling to steady himself, he pushed Xi Zhui back a little and awkwardly changed the subject. “So, this afternoon… why… why were you staring at your phone the whole time?”

Xi Zhui saw through his embarrassment and obligingly stepped back a bit. “It was a message from my academic advisor.”

“There’s been new progress on a finance project I was involved in earlier. He needs me to provide some supplemental materials—a written analysis—and sign another electronic agreement. The company side is pushing for it urgently.”

Xi Zhui’s grades at school were top-notch, and his advisor thought highly of him.

If not for the filming that afternoon, he would have had time to handle it easily.

“……”

So he’d been dealing with schoolwork?

Realizing he’d misunderstood, Wen Chaosheng said, “You… why didn’t you say so earlier?”

“Even if I had, it wouldn’t have helped, and filming took priority.”

Xi Zhui understood Wen Chaosheng’s personality well enough—put simply, he was too considerate of others.

If Xi Zhui had insisted on explaining about his academic emergency on set, it would only have burdened Wen Chaosheng unnecessarily. There was no need to rush the shoot.

Composed as ever, Xi Zhui saw no point in rehashing something already resolved. “It’s taken care of. I wasn’t in the room earlier because I went to handle it.”

Wen Chaosheng relaxed, the heat in his cheeks fading a little. “Next time something like this comes up, you can tell me.”

Xi Zhui nodded. “Sure.”

He glanced at the time—it was nearly eight. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“Not yet.”

Wen Chaosheng shook his head. He hadn’t felt like eating earlier.

Now that the issue was settled and his relationship with Xi Zhui hadn’t suffered, everything felt right again.

A spark of joy flickered in Wen Chaosheng’s heart, and he suggested proactively, “How about we go out to eat?”

“Sounds good.”

“What do you feel like? My treat. Though the restaurants in this county town might not be anything fancy.”

“No need for fancy.”

Xi Zhui’s gaze flickered briefly as an idea surfaced. “Let’s hit up a local eatery. I want red-braised pork. You can order whatever else sounds good.”

Wen Chaosheng blinked in surprise. “Didn’t we have that in the lunch box rice today?”

Speak of the devil—the very person who’d sparked the thought was oblivious.

“The portion was too small. I didn’t get full.”

Xi Zhui raised an eyebrow, making it seem entirely natural. “Unlike Nobu, I don’t have a ‘Brother’ willing to share his meat with me.”

“……”

He drew out the word “Brother” just a touch.

Wen Chaosheng froze for a moment, a inexplicable wave of guilt washing over him. “I… I don’t like it, and I didn’t want it to go to waste, so I gave it to him.”

“I know.”

Xi Zhui acknowledged it calmly, his expression unchanging.

He pushed Wen Chaosheng’s suitcase further into the room, blocking any chance of him moving out, then continued leisurely, “You’re the brother. You can feed whoever you want. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

A ridiculous suspicion flitted through Wen Chaosheng’s mind, only for him to dismiss it immediately—

Was Xi Zhui jealous?

No way. And his tone didn’t sound like it.

Wen Chaosheng pondered it silently for a while but came to no firm conclusion.

Looking at the man before him, he tried to placate him. “Alright, I’ll order some for you later. The biggest portion they have.”

Xi Zhui paused, then let out a chuckle. “Brother, you’re really generous.”

“……”

Why was he still calling him Brother?

Wen Chaosheng pressed his lips together in embarrassment, but before he could dwell on it, Xi Zhui grabbed his wrist. “Come on, I’m starving.”

“Okay.”

…

The two took the elevator downstairs. As the doors slid open, they ran into Lin Keyang and the others returning from dinner.

The group came face-to-face. Sun Xuan spoke first. “You two… made up?”

“Made up?”

Xi Zhui denied it and turned to Wen Chaosheng. “Did we even fight?”

Wen Chaosheng caught the implication and gave a shy smile. “No.”

Satisfied with the response, Xi Zhui turned to Sun Xuan. “Teacher Sun, say less about things that undermine the crew’s unity.”

“……”

Fine.

He was the fool here.

Sun Xuan scratched his head. “So you’re heading out?”

Xi Zhui confirmed, “Yeah, to grab dinner.”

Wen Chaosheng knew the earlier mishap that evening had worried everyone, so he asked, “Have you all eaten? Want to join us?”

Xi Zhui’s eyes flickered at the second part. “Yeah, want to join us?”

“……”

This wasn’t an invitation at all—it was the opposite. He didn’t want them tagging along!

Lin Keyang instantly read Xi Zhui’s look and spoke up before the other three guys could, smiling sweetly. “No need, the four of us have eaten. You two go ahead. Enjoy your meal.”

Xi Zhui curved his lips. “Alright, we’re off then. Talk later.”

With that, he patted Wen Chaosheng’s shoulder and led him outside.

As the elevator doors closed, Sun Xuan tsked at their retreating backs. “Look at that—they’ve already made up? I was still worried over dinner. With their personalities, I figured they’d be in a cold war for days!”

“Why worry your head over it? They’re friends, right? Even if they did fight, what’s the big deal?” Liao Qi chimed in. “Oh, right—what’s that saying?”

Lin Keyang’s boyfriend reflexively finished it. “Quarrel at the head of the bed, make up at the foot?”

“……”

“……”

Sun Xuan and Liao Qi both shot him puzzled looks: Dude, is that how you use that phrase?

“You and your fast mouth.” Lin Keyang laughed and pinched her boyfriend’s lips, seeing through something but not spelling it out.

Who knew?

For some reason, she felt that phrase fit these two perfectly.

…

Wen Chaosheng had been brought to film sets by Wen Chunshen and his wife from a young age, so his aesthetic sense for cinematic visuals and framing far surpassed his peers.

Though Xi Zhui wasn’t from a formal drama program, he had genuine talent and flair for acting. With the full support of the crew’s key creators and strong performances from the veteran actors—

After the minor hiccup on the first day, filming progressed smoothly thereafter, advancing steadily on schedule.

In the blink of an eye, half a month had passed.

The crew wrapped up early today, and most of the team had already returned to the county town.

Sun Xuan gazed at the endless mountains and grasslands in the distance, buzzing with excitement as he grabbed his camera. “Chaosheng, Liao Qi and I are going to wander around. The weather’s great today—let’s take lots of photos. Meet back here at six and head back together?”

“Sure.”

Wen Chaosheng agreed.

He always stayed until the end on set, tying up any loose ends.

A little later, Xi Zhui emerged from the temporary tent, back in casual clothes.

He looked toward the distant figures, now tiny specks. “Sun Xuan and the others left?”

“Yeah, they said they’re going to take some photos.”

Wen Chaosheng replied, adding, “My senior and her boyfriend went off to explore too. We agreed to meet back here at six.”

They lived in big cities year-round and rarely saw such vast mountain grasslands. With the early wrap, everyone wanted to unwind.

Xi Zhui asked, “What about you? Want to check out the farther spots?”

No sooner had he spoken than the sound of hoofbeats rang out.

Nobu rode up skillfully on horseback, reining in a short distance away. “Whoa—”

He dismounted and glanced at Wen Chaosheng, then at Xi Zhui, who’d been glued to him all day. “Little Director Wen, you two want to ride horses?”

When Nobu had first joined to help out, he’d called Wen Chaosheng “Brother.” But the next day, Xi Zhui had pulled him aside in a corner:

“Nobu, you need to call him Director Wen like everyone else. Don’t undermine his position on set.”

Nobu didn’t fully grasp what “undermine his position” meant, but Xi Zhui had taken the time to correct him seriously, so it must be right.

From then on, he’d changed how he addressed Wen Chaosheng.

Wen Chaosheng was surprised. “Nobu, where’d you get the horse?”

“From Uncle Cuo Tian’s place.”

The crew had borrowed local Tibetan horses for today’s shoot as background. Nobu, being a local, had chatted with them in Tibetan and easily borrowed this one.

Nobu was enthusiastic. “Little Director Wen, want to ride? I can borrow a couple more for you.”

“This one looks great.” Xi Zhui stepped forward and stroked the black horse. “Mind if I take it for a spin?”

“Go ahead.”

Nobu nodded, about to show him how to mount.

But in the next second, Xi Zhui vaulted onto the horse with a push, seized the reins, and settled in with fluid grace.

Nobu’s jaw dropped. “Whoa.”

Wen Chaosheng stared, dumbfounded, taking several seconds to step forward. “Xi Zhui, be careful. Don’t fall.”

“I won’t. I’ve ridden before.” Xi Zhui easily controlled the sturdy black horse and asked, “Want to come up?”

Wen Chaosheng shook his head. “I’ve never…”

“Give it a try.”

Xi Zhui cut off his refusal, shifting back to make space and extending a hand in invitation. “Hop on. I’ll take you.”

Wen Chaosheng eyed the offered palm, hesitating briefly before placing his hand in it. “Alright, then.”

“Come on!”

Xi Zhui gripped his hand tightly, using just the right leverage to pull. With a foot in the stirrup, Wen Chaosheng smoothly settled in front of him.

The added weight on its back made the black horse fidget, stamping its hooves and taking a few steps forward and back.

The saddle lurched suddenly.

Wen Chaosheng tensed, his back going rigid as he instinctively called out, “Xi Zhui…”

It was as if Xi Zhui had planned it.

In a flash, he steadied the reins, half-enclosing Wen Chaosheng in his arms. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

Wen Chaosheng’s taut nerves eased a little, but the gentle reassurance whispered in his ear sent his heart pounding faster, beyond his control.

Xi Zhui cast a fleeting glance at Nobu waiting below the horse, then turned to Wen Chaosheng. “Brother, you sitting steady?”

Hearing the familiar form of address again, Wen Chaosheng’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Ah? Yeah.”

“Giddyup!”

In the next instant, Xi Zhui expertly urged the horse forward. Man and mount shot off like an arrow loosed from the bow, carrying Wen Chaosheng with them.

“…”

Left behind on the ground, Nobu scratched his head, utterly baffled.

Huh?

He didn’t get it at all.

Did people from the capital really have to ride horses while hugging like that?