Chapter 22 Part 2

“No.”

Xi Zhui’s answer was crisp and straightforward. He counter-questioned, “And why does the person I like have to be a girl?”

Wen Chaosheng’s mind couldn’t quite turn the corner. “Then… what kind of person do you like?”

Xi Zhui gazed at him intently, his voice laced with a hint of seduction. “I like the cute and clueless ones.”

“…”

What? Cute and clueless?

Drowsiness ultimately overpowered the last thread of Wen Chaosheng’s clarity. He didn’t have time to ponder the deeper meaning behind those words, nor even the energy to say goodnight.

At the critical moment, his mind went blank.

Xi Zhui sighed helplessly. Without making a show of it, he flipped back his own covers and slipped into Wen Chaosheng’s bed while the other man’s awareness was muddled.

“Brother, my blanket fell off. It’s a bit cold.”

“…”

Wen Chaosheng tacitly allowed the intimate closeness and embrace, merely shrinking habitually deeper into the bedding—a picture of reassuring docility.

The corners of Xi Zhui’s mouth lifted involuntarily. “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”

…

Wen Chaosheng slept deeply that night. Perhaps due to the alcohol’s aftereffects, his dreams featured some indescribably tender and lingering scenes.

When he finally stirred awake leisurely, the ambiguous warmth and heart-fluttering afterglow still washed over his thoughts relentlessly.

The sound of the door opening rang out.

Xi Zhui came in carrying takeout lunch and spotted Wen Chaosheng staring blankly from the bed.

“…”

“…”

Their gazes collided across the space, Wen Chaosheng’s expression still dazed.

Xi Zhui set the food down on the small side table. “Are you awake, or still sleeping? Still drunk?”

“No.”

Wen Chaosheng spoke, only to find his voice dry and hoarse.

Xi Zhui handed him a glass of lemon water he’d prepared earlier. “This’ll soothe your throat and help with the hangover. Head hurt?”

Wen Chaosheng shook his head. “Doesn’t hurt, just a bit dizzy.”

“That’s normal after drinking and oversleeping.”

As Xi Zhui watched Wen Chaosheng obediently sip the water, he noted that the other’s face showed no trace of the anxiety or awkwardness that usually followed drunken antics.

“How much do you remember from last night?”

“Hm?”

Wen Chaosheng cradled his cup, trying to recap seriously. “I drank less than three beers?”

“And then?”

“Got a bit dizzy, wanted to rest, but couldn’t find my room card.”

“Mm, and then?”

“I came back with you?” Wen Chaosheng racked his brain, asking uncertainly. “Did I just sleep straight through till now after getting back?”

“…”

Fine.

Getting knocked out by three beers was one thing, but blacking out completely was another.

Xi Zhui didn’t fill in the gaps for his recap, merely reminding him, “Why don’t you check what you’re wearing?”

Wen Chaosheng paused, then realized he was in Xi Zhui’s bathrobe.

Right now, the two-piece collar had slipped loose from prolonged sleep, and beneath the robe, there was nothing else.

Sizzle!

Wen Chaosheng felt like a boiling electric kettle in that instant—heat surging from all over his body straight to his head.

His face flushed beet red, and in his extreme embarrassment, he clutched the blanket tight. “I… how did I… you…”

Xi Zhui, having elicited the desired shy reaction, couldn’t help but chuckle. “What’s there to panic about? You took a shower yourself. My bathrobe is clean. I just put it on you for convenience since you were drunk.”

Putting on a bathrobe was far better than helping with underwear.

Wen Chaosheng remained flustered and even more uncertain. “Xi Zhui, I… I didn’t go crazy drunk and cause trouble, did I?”

He truly hadn’t expected his tolerance to be so poor. With no prior experience of being drunk, he had no idea what he might do under the influence.

His mind was a total blank right now; he couldn’t remember a thing.

Xi Zhui told a little white lie. “No, you showered and went straight to sleep.”

Better this way. With Wen Chaosheng’s personality, if he remembered last night’s events once sober, he’d probably retreat completely into his turtle shell.

As for what happened later that night?

Xi Zhui would keep those memories as his exclusive treasure.

Xi Zhui changed the subject. “Go freshen up? The takeout lunch is best eaten hot.”

“Okay.”

Wen Chaosheng quickly tidied himself and emerged from the bathroom.

Xi Zhui had already laid out the takeout on the small table: three dishes and a soup, still steaming.

Wen Chaosheng sat down nearby. “That’s a lot. Have you eaten?”

“Yeah, I have, but I brought two sets of chopsticks.” Xi Zhui passed them over, as if reading his mind. “You eat first. I can finish whatever’s left—no waste.”

Wen Chaosheng’s lips curved slightly. Then his peripheral vision caught something on Xi Zhui’s mouth. “Hm?”

Xi Zhui paused. “What’s up?”

Wen Chaosheng pointed across at a spot on his upper lip, concerned. “What happened to your lip there? It looks a bit red… and swollen?”

Faced with the nearly innocent question, Xi Zhui kept his usual calm expression. “Does it? Probably just some internal heat. Come on, eat up. We still need to pack after.”

They had a ten p.m. flight back to the Imperial Capital and would need several hours by car to reach the airport first.

Wen Chaosheng thought nothing of it and bowed his head to tuck into the meal.

Xi Zhui lifted his water glass from the side, taking slow sips. The pad of his finger brushed lightly over the odd spot on his lip against the cup’s rim.

In the end, he said nothing.

…

Back in the Imperial Capital, Wen Chaosheng and the core production team rested for only a week before diving straight into the next round of filming without a moment’s rest.

The remaining plot to shoot wasn’t much, all centered on the male lead. The crew followed the timeline—

First came the scenes of Tang Yu facing repeated setbacks in his graduation design, followed by his return from Gannan, where inspiration exploded from thoughts of Yang Jin, culminating in the perfect unveiling of his graduation clay sculpture.

It had to be admitted that Xi Zhui had real talent in acting. Even without formal training, he effortlessly captured the stark difference in Tang Yu’s state before and after.

With the lead giving his all, the shooting progressed smoothly.

“Cut! That’s a wrap!”

With that final call, cheers erupted throughout the vast art exhibition hall. “Wrap party time!”

Wen Chaosheng immediately set down his monitor headset and picked up the bouquet he’d prepared under the monitor desk. He walked toward his film’s male lead. “Xi Zhui.”

He handed over the carefully prepared wrap party bouquet. “Congrats on wrapping. You’ve worked hard these past few days.”

Xi Zhui glanced down, raising an eyebrow in mild surprise. “Yellow roses?”

“Yeah.”

A trace of tension coiled in Wen Chaosheng’s heart. “You… don’t like them?”

This variety was called “Opportunity.” He’d personally picked them out at the flower market yesterday, ensuring every bloom was the plumpest.

Xi Zhui took the bouquet. “No, I like them a lot. It’s the first wrap party bouquet of my career. Thanks, Director Wen.”

No sooner had he spoken than Lin Keyang came up from behind. “Director, don’t just give one to our male lead. Don’t forget yours.”

She handed over another bouquet, this one primarily green.

Wen Chaosheng blinked. “I have one too?”

Lin Keyang nodded. “Of course. With the crew wrapping successfully, the director and actors get the same treatment.”

She stuffed the flowers into Wen Chaosheng’s arms, then shot Xi Zhui a meaningful look. “I originally wanted two bunches, but our Little Director Wen insisted on paying out of pocket to personally pick flowers for you, our male lead.”

She winked teasingly at Wen Chaosheng. “The director’s so generous—even at the end, still saving the production budget.”

“…”

Wen Chaosheng hadn’t expected Lin Keyang to call him out like that. He was at a loss for words.

But she wasn’t done. “Wow, yellow roses, huh? What do they symbolize again?”

Fearing others might pick up on his little secret, Wen Chaosheng blurted out preemptively, “Friendship. Nothing else.”

Lin Keyang smirked. “Oh? Is that so?”

Xi Zhui smiled and clutched his bouquet a bit tighter, coming to Wen Chaosheng’s rescue. “The director’s word is law.”

Sun Xuan came over, having swapped out his camera. “Xi Zhui, wrap photo time.”

“Sure.”

Xi Zhui cooperated for a solo shot, then glanced at Wen Chaosheng. “How about one with the director?”

Sun Xuan agreed readily. “OK!”

The moment Wen Chaosheng heard that, he wanted to bolt.

He hated having his photo taken—especially stiff posed shots and fake smiles. All his work photos during filming had basically been stealth shots by Sun Xuan.

Xi Zhui moved quickly, wrapping an arm around Wen Chaosheng’s shoulders and leaving him no chance to dodge.

Wen Chaosheng’s escape attempt failed. He pulled a sulky face. “I’m not posing. I don’t photograph well. Let’s just forget it.”

Unexpectedly, Xi Zhui leaned in close to his ear, his voice more seductive than persuasive. “This would be our first photo together. Don’t you want that?”

“…”

Their first photo together?

Now that he thought about it, they really hadn’t taken a proper one since they met.

Something stirred in Wen Chaosheng’s heart, and his urge to bolt vanished in an instant.

Xi Zhui patted his shoulder, offering gentle encouragement. “Relax. It’s just a photo. We don’t have to post it anywhere—just keep it as a memento.”

Wen Chaosheng nodded slightly. His rigid posture eased, and he cradled the flowers in his arms.

The two of them stood very close.

Close enough to feel each other’s heartbeat and breath, as if the world around them had hit pause.

Wen Chaosheng sensed the reassuring weight of Xi Zhui’s hand on his shoulder. Finally, he looked straight at the lens, a shy smile breaking across his face.

Sun Xuan had found the perfect angle. “Three, two, one!”

Click!

The two-person photo was captured forever.

Their first film together—the one they had collaborated on in their lives—had officially wrapped.

…

The crew held a small wrap-up banquet in the Imperial Capital too, which didn’t break up until nearly ten o’clock.

As the lead actor, Xi Zhui had been plied with plenty of drinks that night. His temples throbbed now, but fortunately, he’d anticipated this and called his family’s driver ahead of time.

Bang! The rear door shut.

Xi Zhui glanced at Wen Chaosheng beside him and instructed the driver up front. “Uncle Lin, head to the pinned address on the car’s navigation first. Take my friend home.”

“Got it, Young Master,” the driver replied.

Only once the car pulled away did Xi Zhui press the button for the partition.

The privacy screen rose smoothly, sealing off the front and back seats into separate, undisturbed spaces within moments.

Xi Zhui turned to the man beside him.

Wen Chaosheng hadn’t said a word since getting in. He was quietly gazing at the night scenery scrolling past the window, his ever-present work backpack clutched in his lap. From the side, his face looked both obedient and adorably dazed.

Xi Zhui broke the silence first. “Why so quiet? Didn’t you drink tonight?”

Having learned his lesson from the last blackout drunk, Wen Chaosheng hadn’t touched a drop. He’d stayed perfectly sober right up to the end.

He turned back, answering honestly. “I’m just in a daze. I can’t believe we actually finished Contour without a hitch.”

Before production had officially started, Wen Chaosheng had harbored countless worries.

How was someone as socially awkward as him supposed to direct and manage a whole crew? Who should play the male lead? And all the supporting roles?

What if problems cropped up on set? Could he even handle being a “director”?

Now, all those fears had melted away.

Over the past stretch, he’d met a highly responsible mentor, a tight-knit core creative team, fantastic veteran actors, and—the male lead of his dreams.

The director’s dream rooted deep in his heart since childhood had gradually turned real, first in Gannan, now in the Imperial Capital.

Even if new challenges lay ahead, this was the perfect start.

Wen Chaosheng’s emotions welled up. Unable to help himself, he repeated, “Xi Zhui, thank you for starring in my film.”

“You’re welcome.”

Xi Zhui accepted the sincere gratitude and replied, “For me, it was a fresh challenge too.”