The crew’s three-day holiday passed in the blink of an eye.
With the autumn rain came the chill. By November, the scorching heat in Heng City finally showed signs of receding.
Today they were shooting on location, and the staff buzzed around with the final preparations before filming began.
Wen Chaosheng sat in front of the monitor, listening to the steady patter of raindrops on the overhead shed. He cradled a cup of flower tea that was almost empty. After glancing around for a bit, he was just about to find somewhere to top it up with hot water.
Xiao Chao, seated diagonally behind him, had sharp eyes. He picked up his oversized thermos. “Director Wen, I’ve still got hot water here. Want me to top yours up?”
Wen Chaosheng gave a polite smile. “Thanks for the trouble. Appreciate it.”
Xiao Chao leaned in and poured some hot water for him. “No problem at all.”
Wen Chaosheng glanced at the black RV parked not far away. Xi Zhui was still inside getting his makeup done. So he asked Xiao Chao, “It’s cold out here. Why aren’t you sitting in the RV?”
“Oh, Brother Xi likes to run lines while getting his makeup on. I don’t want to disturb him.”
Xiao Chao wiggled his phone screen, which was playing short videos. “Anyway, they won’t need me over there for a while. I can head over when they call.”
Wen Chaosheng nodded, a lingering question—one he still hadn’t gotten an answer to—flashing through his mind.
He looked at Xiao Chao, who was usually so chatty, and after mulling it over for a moment, he eased into the topic. “Xiao Chao, how long have you been working with Xi Zhui?”
“Hm? Going on five years, full count.”
Xiao Chao gave an exact number and grinned. “Actually, I majored in new media in college. During my internship, I joined an event by sheer luck, and the organizers sent me to liaise with Brother Xi and the team.”
“Brother Xi’s original personal assistant quit around then, so I helped out on the side. Later, I just joined his behind-the-scenes team full-time, and here I am, years later.”
Xi Zhui offered great pay and benefits to his team staff, and he himself was outstanding.
A position like “personal assistant” might not sound prestigious, but sticking with a boss like that meant Xiao Chao’s knowledge and perspective grew by leaps and bounds.
Wen Chaosheng probed gently. “Do you know Xi Zhui pretty well? There’s… something I wanted to ask you about.”
It was the first time Xiao Chao had seen Director Wen ask for a favor after all this time on set. “Director Wen, what do you want to know?”
After making sure no other staff were lingering nearby, Wen Chaosheng asked, “Did Xi Zhui suffer any serious injuries while filming before?”
Xiao Chao didn’t answer right away this time. “Uh, Director Wen, why the sudden interest?”
Wen Chaosheng glanced at the still-quiet RV. “I just want to show some concern. I’ve been abroad for a few years, so I’m a bit out of the loop on news.”
He hesitated for a few seconds before adding, “If it’s not convenient, no worries. And please don’t tell Xi Zhui I was asking around.”
Xiao Chao had lasted so long as Xi Zhui’s assistant by being good at reading the room. Besides, he’d long sensed the undercurrents of chemistry between his boss and the director.
His gut told him to play wingman. “It’s not inconvenient or anything. It’s just that Brother Xi’s injury happened before I joined the studio, so I don’t know all the details.”
Wen Chaosheng mentally calculated the timeline. “Around the year he officially debuted?”
“Yeah, Sister Hui mentioned it briefly when I first started—” Xiao Chao paused to recall. “Brother Xi had an accident on the set of Wolf River. He was out of commission for over half a year before coming back.”
Wen Chaosheng caught on. “That film by Director Sun Maoyuan?”
“Right. Brother Xi was just the fourth male lead back then, not a ton of scenes overall. But there was this big explosion sequence with the male lead and second male lead.”
“Then the crew botched the wiring for the blast. It went off right during the actual take!”
“…”
The word “explosion” made Wen Chaosheng’s heart lurch.
Xiao Chao sliced the air with a hand-chop gesture at waist height. “The blast’s heat wave flipped over a sheet of corrugated iron from the set, and it came slashing down right onto Brother Xi’s midsection!”
“Think about it, Director Wen—no one’s tough enough to shrug off sheet metal. He’s lucky it didn’t cleave him in two!”
Xiao Chao hadn’t seen the scene himself, but he’d heard colleagues whisper about it later.
Xi Zhui had passed out on the spot in a pool of blood, his waist and abdomen a mangled mess. It was impossible to tell if any organs were damaged.
The crew called an ambulance and rushed him to the nearest hospital for emergency treatment. The first hospital issued a critical condition notice on arrival, so they transferred him overnight to a provincial one.
“…”
Wen Chaosheng opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Xiao Chao was still caught up in his vivid retelling. “Brother Xi lay in the ICU coma for days, scaring his whole family half to death!”
“Luckily, he was young and resilient. By a stroke of luck, he woke up fully on his birthday. The team even joked later that it was like being reborn.”
Sizzle!
Wen Chaosheng latched onto the word “birthday,” his heart nearly stopping.
How could that be?
How could it happen right on his birthday?
He ducked his head in bewilderment. The hand holding his cup shook uncontrollably, the rising steam fogging his glasses and concealing the terrified mist gathering in his eyes.
The autumn rain pattered down, turning the pit of his stomach to mud.
Xiao Chao noticed Wen Chaosheng’s odd reaction. “Director Wen? You okay?”
With crew members coming and going, Wen Chaosheng knew he couldn’t lose control now. He forced down most of the hot tea to steady both his nerves and his body.
“I’m fine. What happened next?”
When he spoke again, his voice was hoarse, like it belonged to someone else.
Wen Chaosheng asked in confusion, “Such a major incident on set—didn’t it hit the hot searches? No media coverage?”
In all the years abroad, he’d scoured every report and update on Xi Zhui since his debut. He’d never heard of any such serious accident!
“The crew clamped down on the news right away. They even made every staff member on site sign NDAs. Entertainment industry, right? Money makes the world go round!”
An accident threatening an actor’s life would spark massive backlash against the production if it leaked.
So it stayed as hushed gossip within the team. Anything that surfaced online got scrubbed, throttled, or deleted immediately.
Xiao Chao was just a working stiff in showbiz, but he knew how ruthless and convoluted the inner workings could be.
If the money wanted something buried, there were always ways!
“Director Wen, you know this better than me. Small-time actors and regular folks can’t fight big money. Though yeah, Brother Xi’s thing was a genuine accident.”
“…”
Wen Chaosheng fell silent.
A flicker of guilt and bitterness crossed his eyes. He couldn’t muster a single word of rebuttal.
“I heard the male lead and second male lead got hurt too, to varying degrees. If any rumors leaked, all eyes would’ve been on those big shots. A newbie like Brother Xi? No chance.”
“Later, he settled privately with the production’s investors, agreeing to keep the injury hush-hush.”
Perhaps that extreme cooperation became Xi Zhui’s golden ticket into the film funding circles.
To make up for the crew’s mistake, Director Sun Maoyuan bumped up his role size in a later film!
Big Dipper’s top brass took a shine to Xi Zhui too, throwing big-budget movie gigs his way the next year, boosting his exposure and status.
“Of course, the resources helped, but Brother Xi’s hustled hard in films too. Shame he’s had bad luck with awards—not like Teacher Jian, who grabs them left and right.”
“But good things come to those who wait. Our Brother Xi’s a Film Emperor at the Baixiang Awards now!”
Xiao Chao was genuinely thrilled for Xi Zhui and kept going. “Oh, right—after wrapping the last film, Brother Xi planned a long vacation abroad. But then he jumped straight onto your Rotten Mud.”
He emphasized the last part, but Wen Chaosheng fixated elsewhere. “Abroad? Where was Xi Zhui planning to go?”
No sooner had he spoken than a familiar voice cut in from the side. “Where was I planning to go? What are you two talking about?”
“Whoa!” Xiao Chao jolted up from his seat. “Brother Xi, you walk like a ghost! You scared me half to death.”
Wen Hui, following alongside, chimed in. “You were too busy yapping with Director Wen. We spotted your mouth flapping from a mile away.”
“…”
Having just spilled his boss’s backstory under the guise of helping, Xiao Chao felt a twinge of guilt. “Ahem.”
Wen Chaosheng had already composed himself and didn’t want to put Xiao Chao in a spot. “I was just killing time and got to chatting with Xiao Chao.”
Xi Zhui glanced at his now-standing assistant and promptly claimed the seat next to Wen Chaosheng. “He always exaggerates. Take what he says with a grain of salt.”
Wen Hui teased too. “Yeah, he’s wasting his talents as an assistant. Should switch to screenwriting.”
Xiao Chao muttered in protest. “I do not!”
But he stuck to his duties as assistant, quickly pouring Xi Zhui a cup of warm water to soothe his throat.
Filming hadn’t started yet. Seizing the moment, Wen Hui, as his manager, spoke up. “Director Wen, I was just about to talk to you.”
Wen Chaosheng looked over. “Yeah?”
Wen Hui got straight to the point. “On the twenty-second this month, it’s Xi Zhui’s birthday. His fan support group reached out to the studio. They want to do some on-set birthday fan event for him.”
Xi Zhui frowned. “Sister Hui, I told you no need for that stuff. Don’t let fans come all this way and spend money.”
“Can I stop them from showing their birthday love?”
Birthday fan events had become standard in showbiz.
Plus, Xi Zhui had won the Baixiang Award earlier this year. The milestone meant a lot to him and his supporters.
“If the studio shuts it down, the whole team’s ops will get flak online. Don’t make it hard on them.”
Wen Hui had her considerations as Xi Zhui’s manager. “Director Wen, we only need one afternoon. There’s no need for the crew to halt filming to accommodate us. Could you check if it’s possible to swap Xi Zhui’s scenes?”
Wen Chaosheng picked up the crew’s schedule and flipped to the page for the twenty-second. After studying it for a moment, he said, “Xi Zhui only has one scene on his birthday. We can swap it with B Group’s afternoon shoot on the twenty-third. No problem.”
Wen Hui let out a breath of relief. “Thank you, Director Wen. I’ll have the staff coordinate with the fan club then.”
Without another word, Xiao Chao followed her out.
The rain had yet to stop.
Once he confirmed the two had walked off into the distance under their umbrella, Xi Zhui turned to Wen Chaosheng. “You could’ve refused just now. I’m fine sticking to the posted schedule. The crew shouldn’t have to make allowances for me.”
“No worries.”
Wen Chaosheng was strict when it came to filming, but he wasn’t unreasonable.
As long as it didn’t disrupt the crew’s normal progress and came with advance notice, he wouldn’t turn down sensible requests like this.
Wen Chaosheng gazed at the figure right before him, but his thoughts lingered on the unexpected revelation he’d overheard earlier. A layer of hazy guilt still shrouded him—
Ever since that birthday when the accident happened to Xi Zhui, he’d missed a full five of the man’s birthdays. He’d never even managed to send a proper birthday wish.
Fortunately, over these years, Xi Zhui had his family by his side, along with his team, his friends, and the fans who adored him.
Wen Chaosheng looked at the man in front of him and said warmly, “A birthday only comes once a year. You should celebrate it properly.”
Xi Zhui chuckled. “Is that so?”
The person he most wanted by his side was standing right there.
Perhaps this year’s birthday could be one worth celebrating after all.
…
Time always flew by during filming. In the blink of an eye, the twenty-second had arrived.
Wen Chaosheng wrapped up the miscellaneous shots for B Group and gave a few instructions to the assistant director. For once, he didn’t stick around until wrap. Instead, he grabbed his backpack and headed out.
On his way to the parking lot, he passed the section set up for Xi Zhui’s birthday fan event and couldn’t help stopping in his tracks—
The fans had poured their hearts into creating a spectacular display. All sorts of support items dotted the area, but the showstopper was the flower wall stretching dozens of meters long.
The main flowers were red roses, blazing vividly under the sunlight.
“…”
Suddenly, Wen Chaosheng recalled the bouquet of yellow roses he’d given Xi Zhui many years ago.
Back then, he’d carefully selected every bloom. But compared to this massive wall and the outpouring of love from countless fans, it seemed so insignificant.
It was wonderful.
Xi Zhui was surrounded by so much affection and admiration. He didn’t lack for one more person.
Cheers erupted from the fan area nearby. On stage, Xi Zhui had just finished the interaction segment and was now posing for a group photo with the crowd at the staff’s urging.
Wen Chaosheng spotted that familiar yet distant figure. He pulled out his phone and snapped a few discreet shots, adding them—as always—to his private album.
He’d asked Xiao Chao earlier. Xi Zhui had an online birthday livestream scheduled for that evening, followed by a big crew and team dinner party.
One event after another, with far too many people orbiting around him.
For one thing, Wen Chaosheng suffered from social anxiety and truly disliked crowded gatherings full of strangers.
For another, in such a public setting, he couldn’t afford to be seen too close to Xi Zhui and stir up unnecessary trouble.
After agonizing over it for two days, he’d chosen to slip away early today. Ding-dong. The car’s navigation chimed:
“Ready to depart. Total distance: 163 kilometers. Estimated time: two hours and twenty-five minutes…”
Wen Chaosheng double-checked the route between the locations, then started the engine and drove off.
Yes!
He had something far more important to take care of today!
…
Night fell once more.
Wen Chaosheng finally dragged his weary body back to the hotel. It was already past ten. He glanced at the crew group chat—
Xi Zhui’s birthday dinner was still going strong. The group seemed determined to party until dawn.
Wen Chaosheng had no intention of joining the fun. Instead, he tapped back into his WeChat chat with Xi Zhui. Though they’d re-added each other as friends, there wasn’t much substantial conversation to speak of.
In the early hours of the morning, Wen Chaosheng had sent a “Happy birthday.” Xi Zhui must not have seen it right away; he’d only replied with a polite “Thanks” come morning.
After that, Wen Chaosheng had plunged into his usual shooting routine, while Xi Zhui kicked off his birthday fan meet-and-greet.
It wasn’t until evening that Xi Zhui broke precedent with a barrage of messages:
“Where are you?”
“Where’d you go?”
“Why aren’t you on set?”
“Wen Chaosheng, when are you coming back?”
Wen Chaosheng had been driving at the time and couldn’t respond.
Over half an hour later, he pulled over at a highway rest stop and typed back: “Handling some personal business. Not on set. Have fun tonight.”
Xi Zhui’s schedule was packed, and there was no further reply.
…
Wen Chaosheng took a quick hot shower before settling onto the sofa with his phone. Using his alternate Weibo account, he rewatched Xi Zhui’s birthday livestream from that evening.
By the time the replay ended, exhaustion weighed heavily on him, but he still couldn’t bear to set the phone aside. He planned to send Xi Zhui one more “Happy birthday” before midnight.
Ten minutes to go.
Ding-dong.
But the doorbell rang before midnight did.
Wen Chaosheng froze for two seconds. At this hour, most of the crew was still out partying. Who could be ringing his room doorbell?
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!! Ding-dong!!!
With no answer from inside, the ringing grew more insistent, carrying an air of stubborn determination.
Wen Chaosheng hurried over from the sofa. “Who is it?”
As usual, he cracked the door open just a sliver to peek out. But the person outside was ready for that and shoved the door wide with sudden force.
“Hey…”
Wen Chaosheng couldn’t hold his ground and stumbled back a few steps.
The tall figure at the doorway strode right in, pressing up against him without a care. In the next instant, scorching breath laced with the scent of alcohol washed over him.
“Besides me, who else do you want coming to find you at this hour?”
