Once people got busy, time flew by in a flash.
The film Flower Moon officially wrapped at the end of July, plunging straight into post-production without a moment’s rest.
As an arthouse short film, it didn’t require elaborate special effects, so the post-production process wasn’t overly complicated.
Even so, Wen Chaosheng threw himself into it personally, overseeing the team’s work on every frame transition and scene switch.
After nearly five months of meticulous refinement, they finally met the investors’ deadline, securing the Dragon Mark approval and a finished print ready for release before New Year’s Day.
The Imperial Capital saw no snowfall that day.
The moment Wen Chaosheng emerged from the airport’s secure passageway, he spotted Xi Zhui waiting by the railing.
Though Xi Zhui had his face half-hidden behind a mask and a baseball cap, his tall frame and natural presence drew lingering glances from passersby.
Their eyes met.
Xi Zhui strode forward at once and took Wen Chaosheng’s suitcase.
Wen Chaosheng’s lips curved beneath his scarf, his gaze holding a touch of surprise but mostly delight. “I told you not to come pick me up. I could’ve just taken a cab.”
Xi Zhui had joined Quansheng Entertainment half a year earlier. Though he was still honing his acting skills, the company had lined up a few small events to boost his visibility.
By now, he’d built up a modest following online.
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
Leading the way toward the underground parking garage, Xi Zhui added, “It’s holiday season. My popularity isn’t so off the charts that I can’t even step out the door.”
Wen Chaosheng followed him into the elevator. “How many days off do you have this time?”
Over the past half year, their meetings had been few and far between—even their birthdays had only allowed for rushed reunions of a day or two.
Spring Festival holidays had finally arrived, giving them both some breathing room.
“Until the end of February,” Xi Zhui replied.
Quansheng Entertainment had booked him as the second male lead in a major IP-adapted TV drama, requiring him to join the crew in Heng City on the third of next month.
Wen Chaosheng fell silent for a moment, discreetly counting the days on his fingers.
From today until his departure at month’s end, they had barely two weeks.
“. . .”
They’d only just reunited, and already a pang of parting tugged at him. He let out a soft sigh, barely noticeable. “All right.”
Xi Zhui picked up on the subtle mood lingering in the air. “What’s wrong?”
As the elevator descended, he reached out and clasped Wen Chaosheng’s hand. “We’ve got half a month at least. We can celebrate our anniversary together.”
The twenty-second was just around the corner.
Though they’d spent the year mostly apart, they’d never quarreled and had both pushed toward their shared goals.
The familiar warmth of that palm melted away the chill that had settled in.
Wen Chaosheng was easy to soothe. “Mm.”
Xi Zhui asked, “What about little Kuai Kuai? In the video you sent last time, it looked like he’d grown a bit.”
Living in a climate-controlled terrarium, the pet turtle showed no signs of hibernation this winter.
Wen Chaosheng’s eyes lit up with amusement at the mention. “Couldn’t bring him on the plane this time, so he’s staying with the exotic pet shop owner. I’ll pick him up after New Year’s when we head back to Haishi City.”
“Better that way. Saves the hassle.”
“. . .”
Gazing at his lover, Wen Chaosheng recalled something else, a flicker of secret anticipation in his eyes—
He’d actually found a cute little critter for Xi Zhui too, but it wasn’t quite trained enough to gift yet.
The elevator soon reached the F2 level.
Through the glass doors, Wen Chaosheng spotted a young man and woman waiting outside.
The instant the doors slid open, he carefully disentangled his hand from Xi Zhui’s and tucked it guiltily into his pocket.
“. . .”
Xi Zhui’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, but he held back in front of others.
Only once they were in the car did he pull off his mask and ask, “Why’d you let go of my hand back there?”
Wen Chaosheng hesitated, then answered honestly. “What if someone saw? It wouldn’t look good.”
Meeting Xi Zhui’s displeased gaze, he added, “For your career.”
Wen Chaosheng had always been cautious and reserved by nature.
He knew Xi Zhui’s face would one day grace public screens, winning over crowds. He didn’t dare risk overly intimate displays in the open.
Xi Zhui guessed at his concerns, his brow creasing faintly.
He was about to respond when his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Xi Zhui saw Shen Ruo’s name and answered. “Hello.”
“Did you pick up Chaosheng yet?” she asked from the other end. “Everyone’s gathered from both families. Just waiting on you two.”
Xi Zhui glanced at Wen Chaosheng beside him. “Got him. We’re on our way.”
Both the Xi and Wen families happened to be in the Imperial Capital for New Year’s. Xi Quxin and Wen Chunshen, old friends, had seamlessly arranged a private room for dinner that evening.
When Xi Zhui offered to pick up Wen Chaosheng, the elders simply chalked it up to close friendship—no deeper suspicions.
Hanging up, Xi Zhui glanced at the quiet Wen Chaosheng.
He knew arguing over “keeping the relationship secret” wouldn’t change anything right now, so he shelved the idea of pressing further.
Fine.
It was still too early for that.
Rather than let Wen Chaosheng fret over his future or shy away from their relationship, Xi Zhui would pour everything into establishing himself in the industry—proving it all with undeniable strength and confidence.
. . .
By the time they arrived at the dinner private room, the elders were already seated around the round table. Xi Xishan, whom they hadn’t seen in a while, was there too, occupying the seat of honor.
Age had taken a toll; Elder Xi looked frailer than before, but his eyes still held their old spark.
Xi Zhui and Wen Chaosheng greeted each elder in turn before taking their seats.
Xi Quxin turned to the long-absent Wen Chaosheng with a beaming smile. “Xiao Sheng, I just heard from your parents—your directorial debut got nominated for the Hundred Flowers Award? Congrats!”
Wen Chaosheng hadn’t expected the topic to come up so soon. He demurred humbly. “Thanks, Uncle Xi. I just got a bit lucky.”
As an arthouse short, Flower Moon had struggled in a market dominated by commercial blockbusters. Over its twenty-five-day run, screenings and box office had been modest.
Yet Wen Chaosheng’s visual artistry had earned him a dedicated following of arthouse enthusiasts.
Lead actor Jian Jinzhao had surged in popularity too, thanks to that stunning final scene, riding the winter break wave.
Half a month prior, the biennial Hundred Flowers Awards announced its nominees—
Flower Moon stood out with multiple nods, though final results were still days away.
Fresh off the Berlin Film Festival snub, Wen Chaosheng kept expectations low, content with a normal heart.
“. . .”
Wen Chunshen and Song Xuelan exchanged a glance, wisely sparing their son any pressure.
Truth be told, they’d dissected the official list the moment it dropped—
This year’s awards, aligning with national priorities, had dialed back commercial entries in favor of arthouse films.
Though new to directing, Wen Chaosheng’s command of light, shadow, composition, and color was impressive—bordering on prodigious. Several shots from Flower Moon were already buzzing on industry forums.
All told, a win wasn’t out of reach.
Shen Ruo, less versed in films, asked, “When’s the ceremony?”
Song Xuelan replied, “The twenty-first this year. The gala’s right here in the Imperial Capital, just days away.”
Xi Quxin chuckled and raised his glass to Wen Chaosheng. “To you, Xiao Sheng! Uncle’s toasting your nomination. Win or not, at your age, getting this far is impressive enough.”
“Thanks, Uncle Xi.”
How could he refuse when an elder toasted him?
As Wen Chaosheng reached for the bottle to pour his own drink, Xi Zhui cut in before the whole table. “Dad, Chaosheng doesn’t drink. Don’t make him just because you’re in the mood.”
“You brat, no manners.” Xi Quxin took no offense from his son. “Xiao Sheng, juice it is.”
Amused to see Xi Zhui stepping up for someone, Shen Ruo grinned. “How’d you know he doesn’t drink? He hadn’t even spoken, and you’re already vetoing for him.”
“. . .”
The question was for Xi Zhui, but Wen Chaosheng felt a twinge of guilt.
He kept his eyes down, busying himself with his drink to avoid the elders’ gazes.
Xi Zhui stayed calm. “I saw him try once at the Contour wrap-up banquet. Stuck with me.”
Song Xuelan, thinking nothing of it, chimed in. “Xiao Sheng really doesn’t drink much. Old Xi, let Old Wen keep you company tonight.”
“Sure, we won’t push the kid.”
Xi Quxin and Wen Chunshen clinked glasses and downed them.
Elder Xi eyed the two young men at the table, fondness clear for the fair, well-behaved Wen Chaosheng—and exasperation for his own grandson.
“Your family’s Xiao Sheng is so sensible. Sets a goal young and chases it. Not like ours here—”
“Studies finance all those years, then pivots to acting in entertainment? What’s the point?”
Xi Zhui’s entertainment career was the one thing Elder Xi couldn’t wrap his head around—or fully endorse. A lifetime devoted to traditional ink painting had left him conservative at heart.
To him, showbiz was a sordid pit. The Xi Family were pillars of society; Xi Zhui, a proper heir. No need for such a path.
“. . .”
Wen Chaosheng had never heard Elder Xi’s stance on the matter before, and for a moment, he actually felt a bit nervous.
Xi Zhui leisurely ladled a bowl of soup for Xi Xishan and gently advised him. “Grandpa, I’m serious. Actors get to experience a thousand different lives through their roles—doesn’t that sound fascinating? I want to give it a try while I’m still young.”
Xi Quxin and Shen Ruo exchanged a glance and spoke up for their son with remarkable open-mindedness. “Dad, Xiao Zhui has his own ideas. Just let him go for it.”
“Yeah, the company’s still got me and A-Ruo. Keeping it afloat for another ten or eight years won’t be an issue.”
“Alas.”
Xi Xishan let out a sigh and didn’t press the opposition further.
He patted Xi Zhui’s wrist, his tone tinged with mild regret. “I’m at this age now, and I was counting on you to marry soon after graduation—hoping I’d get to hold a great-grandson before I go. Looks like that’s not happening.”
“If you want to pursue acting, go for it. But if you meet a girl you really like down the line, whatever you do, don’t let her slip away.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng listened to Elder Xi’s earnest hopes for Xi Zhui and unconsciously tightened his grip on the beverage cup in his hand.
He thought of their relationship, which they couldn’t make public yet, and a wave of inexpressible guilt and unease welled up inside him. His heart grew heavy.
“…”
Xi Zhui hadn’t expected Elder Xi to bring up the topic so suddenly either. A sense of foreboding hit him. His peripheral vision flicked straight to Wen Chaosheng, who was indeed keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact.
Unfortunately, Shen Ruo and Song Xuelan sat between them, leaving no chance for any subtle interaction.
Xi Zhui sat there patiently for over half an hour before he finally couldn’t hold back and stood up. “Grandpa, Mom, Dad, Uncle, Auntie—Chaosheng and I have plans with some other friends tonight. We’d like to head out first.”
Xi Quxin looked surprised. “Friends? Why didn’t you mention it earlier?”
Xi Zhui used his buddy as an excuse. “Fengyi just got back from abroad. He heard Chaosheng was back in the Imperial Capital too, so he specially invited us to hang out tonight.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng heard this, a flicker of bewilderment hidden in his eyes behind his glasses. He had no idea anything like that was happening.
Shen Ruo didn’t doubt it for a second upon hearing it was Xia Fengyi organizing things. “Alright, go on then. You young folks will loosen up more together.”
Xi Zhui promptly moved to Wen Chaosheng’s side, making sure to give Uncle Wen and Auntie Song a heads-up. “Uncle Wen, Auntie Song—we might be out late, so we could crash at Fengyi’s place tonight.”
Song Xuelan nodded. “Mm, just stay safe.”
“We will.”
Xi Zhui flashed a slight, polite smile and patted Wen Chaosheng’s shoulder. “Let’s go. Fengyi and the others are waiting.”
Wen Chaosheng hesitated a beat but went along with the abrupt excuse. “Okay.”
…
They stepped out of the restaurant, and the sharp night wind hit them head-on.
Only then did Wen Chaosheng feel the suffocating tightness in his chest ease a little. He kept his head down. “You’re making it up, aren’t you? Fengyi didn’t actually set anything up.”
“He did come back to the country, but he’s not in the Imperial Capital. He even asked me to cover for him with his parents.”
Xi Zhui wasn’t fibbing entirely. His gaze lingered on Wen Chaosheng’s face—the other man had kept his head lowered the whole time, clearly lost in thought.
After a long moment, Xi Zhui called out. “Wen Chaosheng, look up. Look at me.”
Wen Chaosheng startled and glanced at him before quickly looking away again. “Hm?”
“My grandpa’s heart hasn’t been doing well these past couple of years. The doctor said he can’t handle any stress, so I couldn’t argue with him at the table.”
Xi Zhui wasn’t sure how Wen Chaosheng felt about the dinner conversation but explained anyway. “But that’s just his view as an old man. It’s not mine.”
Wen Chaosheng fell silent for a bit before responding softly. “Mm. It’s normal for someone his age to think that way. Besides, Grandpa Xi didn’t pressure you into anything.”
“Don’t be upset.”
Xi Zhui reached up and pinched Wen Chaosheng’s ear—like a soothing gesture, but also a serious overture. “If you’re okay with it, I can find time soon to come clean to both sets of parents about us.”
“No!”
Wen Chaosheng’s heart clenched. He abruptly grabbed Xi Zhui’s errant wrist. “We can’t!”
The Xi and Wen families went way back, and they were both only sons. Same-sex marriage might be legal, but that didn’t mean every family could accept it.
Wen Chaosheng knew he lacked the courage.
He was afraid that going public would shatter their current peace, disappoint their elders, and plunge both families into needless conflict and heartache.
Wen Chaosheng hesitated to speak, finally murmuring without much conviction. “Xi Zhui, things are… pretty good like this for now.”
If dodging the issue temporarily could buy them some peace, then he was willing to be that turtle hiding in its shell.
“…”
Xi Zhui had figured Wen Chaosheng wouldn’t go for his suggestion, but he hadn’t expected such a vehement reaction.
Gazing at those gentle, reserved features before him, Xi Zhui felt as if a piece had suddenly gone missing from his own heart—an elusive sense of helplessness washing over him.
For some reason, he had a nagging premonition that he might not be able to hold onto this person forever. The thought left him profoundly uneasy.
“Come with me!”
Xi Zhui gripped Wen Chaosheng’s hand firmly once more and led him silently to the back seat of the car. “Get in!”
The door clicked shut, and the kiss descended.
“Mmph.”
Wen Chaosheng found himself pinned against the back seat, no escape possible. He tilted his head back, forced to receive this sudden, almost savage kiss.
His lips were pried open with force, his breath stolen in an instant. The storm of emotions erupted like a volcano on the verge of explosion.
In the dim confines of the car, Wen Chaosheng’s vision blurred. But he heard Xi Zhui’s heart thundering wildly, heard his breathing grow more chaotic—everything triggered by him.
This runaway deep kiss felt like it branded his very soul with an exclusive mark, filling him with an uncanny sense of security.
At last, the kiss gentled.
Xi Zhui slid his palm to the nape of Wen Chaosheng’s neck in belated reassurance. “Brother.”
Outside in the parking lot, another car started up. A beam of headlights swept across the window, piercing the interior.
In that fleeting moment, Wen Chaosheng glimpsed the turbulent emotions in Xi Zhui’s eyes—and saw himself clearly. “Hm?”
Xi Zhui sighed, his voice carrying a note of entreaty. “Try… trusting me a little more?”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng stayed quiet, but his emotions churned.
Xi Zhui didn’t push for a response. Instead, he shifted their positions and drew Wen Chaosheng into a tight embrace.
“I’ll respect your pace in life. I won’t force you into anything you don’t want. If you prefer keeping our relationship under wraps for now, I’ll go along with it.”
“But one thing needs to be crystal clear—”
“I’m dead serious about dating you, and I’ll put everything into building our future.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng felt as if he’d tumbled into a safe, cozy nest. He relaxed without thinking. “Mm.”
Xi Zhui repeated himself. “Don’t be upset.”
Wen Chaosheng’s voice, roughened by the kiss, came out soft. “I’m not. I’m happy now.”
Xi Zhui flicked on the dome light and peered down at Wen Chaosheng’s face.
Once he confirmed the shadow in those eyes had lifted, he let out a quiet breath of relief. “Did I scare you back there?”
Wen Chaosheng felt the lingering buzz on his lips and savored it oddly. “No.”
Xi Zhui pressed on. “You barely touched your food at dinner. Hungry? I can whip something up for you when we get back.”
Wen Chaosheng brushed past the first half and latched onto the rest. “Get back? Where to?”
“I rented a place outside for easy access to acting classes.”
Xi Zhui gave a straightforward explanation, then dangled a tempting invitation. “If you want, you can stay at my place for the next couple weeks.”
