It was only during filming that he’d realized how much he unexpectedly enjoyed shaping a character on camera.
They were alone in the back seat.
In this safe bubble, Wen Chaosheng relaxed enough to chat casually. “When are you heading back to Germany?”
Xi Zhui’s gaze flickered. He gave an unexpected answer. “Flight tomorrow at four in the afternoon.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng froze, the faint smile on his lips turning rigid.
Once he confirmed he wasn’t hallucinating, his mood plummeted. “Tomorrow? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Xi Zhui caught the poorly hidden dismay in his voice. “I wasn’t trying to keep it from you. It really was a last-minute decision.”
“Remember that finance project I mentioned? New developments came up, and my advisor specifically called me back a week early.”
Xi Zhui had planned to return to school by the twentieth at the latest. But as they say, no plan survives contact with reality.
He’d only gotten the notice from his advisor two days ago. The man wanted him back early to prep for the project.
After confirming the crew would wrap on time, Xi Zhui hadn’t booked his return flight until that very morning.
He’d never intended to hide it and had planned to tell Wen Chaosheng tonight. But now, sensing the other’s clearly downcast mood, a strange regret tugged at him.
“Sorry. I should’ve said something earlier.”
“It’s fine. Not your fault.”
Wen Chaosheng lowered his eyes, swallowing the unclear, inexpressible sourness in his chest. “It just feels so sudden.”
He knew Xi Zhui still had unfinished studies in Germany. Once the holiday ended, they’d have to part ways.
He just hadn’t expected the goodbye to come so abruptly.
As a kid, Wen Chaosheng had gotten sudden word that his parents were returning to Haishi City. After summer camp ended, he hadn’t even gotten to properly say farewell to Xi Zhui.
Now history was repeating itself with another out-of-the-blue parting. How long until they saw each other again this time? Would Xi Zhui stay on in Germany after graduation?
“…”
Wen Chaosheng had no answers and didn’t dare press.
He didn’t want to seem too off, so he tried changing the subject. “You finally come back to the country, and you spend most of it filming. Won’t Grandpa Xi and the others give you grief about that?”
Xi Zhui said, “It’s fine. I’ve already spent time with the elders at home when I could.”
“They know what I’m like. Even without filming, I wouldn’t just sit around the house twiddling my thumbs.”
Wen Chaosheng nodded, then lapsed back into silence.
The post-wrap joy had evaporated the moment he’d learned about this impending farewell.
Xi Zhui picked up on his mood and let out a subtle sigh. “Not happy anymore?”
He opened the car’s side storage compartment and pulled out a bag, handing it over. “If I give you your gift now, think that’ll cheer you up a bit?”
Wen Chaosheng stared at the black bag now in front of him, his stalled thoughts stirring. “Is this… the wrap-up gift?”
“Yeah, I promised to give it to you on the official wrap day.”
Xi Zhui nodded toward it with his eyes, coaxing. “Come on, Director Wen. Do me a solid and open it?”
“Okay.”
Wen Chaosheng set the somewhat heavy gift bag on his knees and untied the neatly knotted white ribbon. With anticipation built up over days, he drew out his true wrap-up present.
Xi Zhui flicked on the overhead light. The bright illumination chased away the car’s dimness, letting Wen Chaosheng clearly see what he held.
It was a square transparent display case containing a lifelike clay figurine.
The little figure sported a signature head of small curls, wore thick-rimmed glasses, and had a rubber camera ornament beside it.
Wen Chaosheng’s eyes widened in disbelief. “This is…”
“Can’t tell?” Xi Zhui took the case, holding it up next to his own face for comparison. “Not bad for a newbie, right? That level of resemblance?”
It wasn’t a perfect match, but six or seven out of ten?
Wen Chaosheng was floored. “You made this yourself? When?”
Xi Zhui handed the clay figurine back. “I got in touch with a studio here in the Imperial Capital while I was still in Gannan. I spent the week before shooting started on this, hoping I’d finish in time.”
Before this, Xi Zhui had zero experience with clay sculpting.
The figurine’s small size demanded precise proportions for the features. He’d botched it many times, remolding Wen Chaosheng’s face shape over and over.
By the end, even the studio’s instructor had been on the verge of stepping in to help, but Xi Zhui had politely turned him down each time.
For him, it only counted if he made it with his own hands.
He skipped the grueling details, saying only, “Good thing I made the deadline today.”
Wen Chaosheng studied the miniature “himself” in the case, a subtle warmth blooming in his heart. “What made you think to give me this?”
“You said the role of Tang Yu was born because of me.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng’s emotions churned as he glimpsed the special meaning behind the gift.
Xi Zhui watched his reactions closely. “If the mud sculptures in the movie connect Tang Yu and Yang Jin, then think of this one as a different kind of connection between you and me.”
“Wen Chaosheng, I’m honored to be the male lead in your first film.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng’s mind went blank with a boom, something deep inside surging to the surface. The feelings he’d poured into his script and etched into the character suddenly rang back loud and clear in this moment.
—Xi Zhui, the role of Tang Yu was born because of you. You’re the one and only male lead in this film.
—Wen Chaosheng, I’m honored to be the male lead in your first film.
His eyes stung faintly.
Wen Chaosheng drew a deep breath, struggling to steady his voice. “Thank you. I love it.”
Maybe the other was just using the character’s identity to give him a meaningful gift?
Even that was more than enough.
“…”
Xi Zhui smiled at the response—not surprised at all. “Glad you like it.”
Thanks to this special, custom wrap-up gift, Wen Chaosheng’s gloom finally lifted some.
The car entered his familiar neighborhood and pulled to a stop soon after.
The driver’s voice came from the front seat. “We’ve arrived.”
Wen Chaosheng carefully tucked the gift into his backpack, not forgetting to pick up the Wrap Party Bouquet beside him. He opened the car door but didn’t hurry to get out.
“Xi Zhui, can I come to the airport to see you off tomorrow?” Wen Chaosheng mustered his courage for a few seconds. “I don’t want to say goodbye tonight.”
Xi Zhui met the soft, yearning plea in his eyes and couldn’t bear to refuse. “Sure. See you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow. Good night?”
“Good night.”
Only after confirming that Wen Chaosheng had entered the villa gates of the Wen Family did Xi Zhui tell the driver to start the car again.
The lights on the car roof switched off, and darkness once more enveloped Xi Zhui. Only the bouquet of yellow roses beside him remained vividly bright. He reached out with a fingertip to brush one of the rose petals, his gaze flickering.
For a brief moment just now, Xi Zhui had wanted to use the mud sculpture gift as an opportunity to confess his feelings fully. But the words had hovered on the tip of his tongue, ultimately held back by reason.
The distance of studying abroad was an undeniable reality staring them in the face.
Starting a pursuit—or even a relationship—without any certainty about the future would be irresponsible to both of them.
Rather than acting rashly on impulse under the pressure of time, it was better to give each other space to grow and confirm their feelings.
The future was long, and thankfully, it wasn’t all that far off.
—
The next day, crowds surged outside security at the airport.
The smart announcements in the terminal hall looped endlessly: “Dear passengers, welcome to Imperial Capital International Airport…”
The Wen couple had flown back to Germany over half a month earlier. That morning, Xi Zhui had said his goodbyes to his family elders and relatives one by one, specifically instructing them not to come see him off.
Now, the only person by his side was Wen Chaosheng.
Xi Zhui had already checked his luggage. As the remaining time dwindled, he finally spoke up. “It’s about time. I need to head in.”
“Wait!” Wen Chaosheng pulled a photo frame from his backpack. “Here, take this with you?”
Xi Zhui looked at the solid wooden frame handed to him. Inside was their Wrap Party duo photo. “You printed this out specially?”
“Yeah.”
Wen Chaosheng had gotten the photo from Sun Xuan early that morning and rushed to a physical store to buy the frame and get it printed. He figured a tangible item would hold more sentimental value.
Xi Zhui’s thumb brushed casually over Wen Chaosheng’s image in the photo, and he smiled. “Doesn’t this look great?”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t notice the small gesture. He hummed in agreement. “You’re the one who looks better.”
He paused for a few seconds, desperately wanting to squeeze in a few more words before time ran out, but his throat felt choked tight with the sorrow of parting.
“…”
Xi Zhui slipped the photo frame into his carry-on backpack. He really didn’t want to see that sorrowful expression on Wen Chaosheng’s face. “Wen Chaosheng, come closer.”
“What’s wrong?”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t understand but complied anyway.
In the blink of an eye, Xi Zhui pulled him lightly into a warm embrace.
“Ah.”
Wen Chaosheng let out an instinctive soft sigh and didn’t dare move.
“The first hug back in the country—it’s from you.” Xi Zhui ruffled his fluffy nape and whispered against his ear. “The last hug before leaving the country—it’s from me to you.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng didn’t speak, but his ears quietly turned red.
People bustled to and fro in the security area.
Xi Zhui knew Wen Chaosheng’s shy and reserved nature all too well. Worried that he might feel uncomfortable, he released the embrace after just that one sentence.
But Wen Chaosheng was still reluctant to let go. His gaze lingered intently on the man before him. “Once you arrive, can you send me a message? Just to let me know you’re safe.”
Xi Zhui felt helpless. “Don’t look at me like that.”
If he kept looking that way, Xi Zhui really wouldn’t be able to leave.
Xi Zhui forced himself to rein in those thoughts and spoke in the tone of a friend. “I’ll let you know when I land. We’ve added each other on WeChat now, so we can stay in touch anytime.”
“Okay.”
Wen Chaosheng nodded obediently, not wanting to hold him up any longer. “Go through security, then. I’ll leave once you’re inside.”
“…”
Xi Zhui looked at the man before him, who clearly had no intention of budging and seemed determined to watch him pass through security. After enduring it again and again, he finally lost a bit of his restraint.
He reached up to grip Wen Chaosheng’s nape and leaned in close. “How about buying a ticket and flying to Germany with me?”
Their noses brushed ever so slightly, and in that instant, it felt like they might kiss.
Wen Chaosheng’s breath hitched sharply. The spot on his nape being caressed burned with heat. Far from resisting the intimacy, he tilted his head up submissively.
The eyes behind his glasses widened, oblivious to the passengers who might glance their way at any moment. He simply stared at Xi Zhui, who was so close.
“I couldn’t… I-I don’t have a visa yet.”
“…”
Dumb Turtle.
Why wasn’t he objecting to anything?
Xi Zhui desperately wanted to pull him into another hug, but he couldn’t lose his composure in such a public place. He took a deep breath and murmured in a volume only they could hear. “Brother, I’ll miss you.”
Their warm breaths tangled together.
Wen Chaosheng’s heart pounded wildly, enchanted by the moment, his mind going blank. “Hm?”
Xi Zhui rubbed the mole on his nape, his deep eyes utterly serious. “So, you have to remember to miss me too.”
