Chapter 34: [Extra Update]

Xie Jin came to find Bai Ying without even changing out of his costume, still dressed in the movie’s attire. The self-exiled destitute swordsman always wore a bitter, vengeful expression on camera. Yet at that moment, Xie Jin’s brows and eyes carried a smile, giving him an air of unrestrained charm. The tattered, worn clothes with their multiple tears only made him look more bohemian and free-spirited.

“Little White, if there’s anything you want to know, just come ask me directly,” Xie Jin said.

They strolled through the nearby woods. Bai Ying clutched his phone, his cheeks still a bit flushed. He turned to Xie Jin. “Teacher Xie, were those things you said in the interview true?”

Xie Jin laughed. “Not entirely true.”

He noticed the young man beside him widen his eyes slightly.

Tree shade filtered the sunlight overhead, but stray beams slipped through the gaps in the leaves, dancing into Bai Ying’s eyes as he walked—like glowing little fish swimming in a crystal-clear lake.

“But,” Xie Jin continued, shifting the conversation, “if you ask me, my answer will definitely be the truth.”

Bai Ying spent a long moment steeling himself mentally while Xie Jin waited patiently.

Finally, he heard Bai Ying muster his courage and ask, “…Teacher Xie, do you really prefer reptiles?”

Xie Jin paused briefly.

He hadn’t expected Bai Ying to ask that. Over the years, Xie Jin had given countless interviews, and at least a third touched on his love life. After all, he was young and handsome, and he’d been single for years—everyone was curious about the film emperor’s romantic path.

Yet Bai Ying had asked something completely unexpected… but utterly adorable.

Xie Jin nodded. “Relatively speaking, yes, I do.”

Xie Jin had no plans to keep a pet, but if he ever did, compared to the fluffy cats and dogs most people adored, he preferred reptiles like snakes. Their elegant forms and sleek scales appealed to him more than fur. That said, this preference was relative; his busy schedule kept him away from home constantly, jetting across the country and beyond. Truth be told, he wasn’t suited for pet ownership and had never taken on the responsibility.

Bai Ying looked like he had more questions, but he fell into hesitation again.

Xie Jin didn’t rush him. He had plenty of patience, waiting for Bai Ying’s question as if anticipating a shy clam opening its shell—eager to see what pearl lay inside.

Bai Ying’s hand at his side clenched the hem of his shirt nervously. After brewing for a long time, he finally said, “Um, I have a friend who has a little snake, but for some reasons, he needs to find a new owner for it…”

Bai Ying’s heart pounded fiercely.

This was the first time he’d truly sought an owner for himself. He was so nervous he couldn’t even meet Xie Jin’s eyes. In a small voice, he asked, “Teacher Xie, would you be interested in adopting a little snake?”

Before Xie Jin could respond, Bai Ying started stumbling through his sales pitch. “It’s a little white snake, not big at all—just fits in one hand. It’s very well-behaved, doesn’t bite, doesn’t need constant attention, doesn’t eat much. It just doesn’t like staying in a glass tank all the time. Best to keep it in a room, take it out for some sun, maybe let it feel the breeze outside…”

Were the demands too much?

Bai Ying grew more diffident as he spoke, finally saying solemnly, “But it doesn’t need to go out for sun either.”

With that, Bai Ying finally looked up at Xie Jin, waiting tensely for his reaction.

Xie Jin fell into thought.

Typically, stories starting with “I have a friend” were about oneself. But after hearing Bai Ying out, Xie Jin wasn’t sure if that rule applied here. If it did, it meant Bai Ying owned a little white snake but couldn’t keep it anymore for some reason and wanted to find it a new home. Yet Xie Jin had added Bai Ying on WeChat and scoured his Moments—there was no sign of snake ownership.

After pondering, Xie Jin asked cautiously, “Do you like that snake a lot?”

Bai Ying nodded vigorously. Of course he did—he liked himself!

Xie Jin pressed, “Then… do you want to keep it?”

Bai Ying replied heavily, “I can’t afford to.”

He couldn’t stand the daily 996 grind just to feed himself anymore—that was why he’d resolved to find an owner!

Xie Jin still couldn’t tell if Bai Ying was the little white snake’s owner. He probed further. “When can I see it?”

Bai Ying froze.

Right—before adopting a pet, you usually wanted to see it first…

Bai Ying realized he’d never considered this. His mind blanked for a moment before he stammered, “Not yet. The little snake… it still has to stay with my friend for a bit. Probably next year before it can move to its new home.”

Xia Dao would premiere this year. By next year, promo would be over, and he could quit without feeling guilty about Qin Juanshu’s raises and bonuses!

Xie Jin thought Bai Ying’s “friend” sounded pretty unreliable.

“Um… do you have photos or videos of the little white snake?” Xie Jin asked. He hadn’t planned on pets, but if it was Bai Ying’s recommendation, he wouldn’t mind raising one properly.

Bai Ying realized he didn’t.

He had no habit of selfies; his phone barely had any human-form photos, let alone snake-form ones—he’d never taken any. Was his adoption plan going to fail over a lack of pics? Seeing Xie Jin’s interest, Bai Ying quickly said, “Not right now, but give me some time to get them from my friend, and I’ll send them to you!”

Bai Ying gazed at Xie Jin pitifully.

Xie Jin, please don’t pass on a little snake just because there are no photos or videos right now. It’ll be so pitiful!

“Is Little White so eager to find an owner for that snake?” Xie Jin asked.

Bai Ying nodded, still praising it. “It’s very well-behaved!”

Suddenly, another possibility struck Xie Jin. Maybe the friend really existed, unable to keep the snake after this year for some reason. Bai Ying genuinely liked it but couldn’t care for it himself, so he was seeking a reliable owner.

Actually…

Xie Jin’s heart stirred. Actually, they could raise a little snake together—as its joint owners.

“Alright, remember to send me the photos and videos,” Xie Jin said. “I’ll give it serious thought.”

The tree shadows swayed; the sky had darkened unnoticed. But Bai Ying’s eyes seemed even brighter than before.

“It’s a deal then.” He grasped Xie Jin’s hand, his pinky finger secretly hooking around it—like a pinky promise.

The touch of that pinky seemed to travel straight to Xie Jin’s heart, sending tingles through it. Such moments were rare in Xie Jin’s life. He always controlled everything—studies, career, relationships—everything unfolded as planned. But this one person, from the moment he appeared, slipped from his grasp, leaving him feeling helplessly adrift.

His eyes no longer felt like his own; in a crowd, they always sought him out first, then stuck fast, unable to look away. His heart no longer felt like his own; it seemed to have fallen into his hands, ready to shatter at a single callous word. Yet he was always gentle and kind, making this heart beat wildly for him without end.

Xie Jin gazed at the beautiful young man before him, nearly losing control and leaning down to kiss the upturned corner of his lips.

But a raindrop fell on the young man’s eyelashes first.

“Mm!” Like a butterfly’s wingbeat, his lashes trembled violently. Bai Ying raised a hand to shield his eyes. “It seems like it’s raining.”

As he spoke, raindrops began falling in earnest.

Bai Ying released Xie Jin’s hand and glanced behind them. “How far did we walk… Oh no, the set’s pretty distant now.”

The crew was still shooting, but not Xie Jin’s scenes. The temporary site had rain shelters, but they’d chatted and wandered too far while talking.

“No umbrella…” Bai Ying murmured.

Xie Jin was already preparing to shield him with his sleeve. “I’ll cover you and we’ll head back…”

But halfway through, Bai Ying’s tone brightened excitedly. “Good thing I brought this!”

Bai Ying pulled a familiar transparent raincoat from his backpack.

Xie Jin stared. “This is…”

“The one you sold me!” Bai Ying unfolded it with a hey and held it over both their heads. “Who knew it’d save us again!”

The transparent raincoat stretched overhead, blocking the rain. It was small, forcing them close—close enough to feel the warmth of each other’s bodies beneath their clothes.

They headed back toward the set like that, Xie Jin’s arm around Bai Ying’s back. Halfway there, he suddenly said, “Do we have some special affinity for rainy days?”

“How so?” Bai Ying laughed at him. “We’ve met so many times—only two rainy days!”

Xie Jin also thought his words sounded a bit silly. Unknowingly, it had been nearly ten days since they started meeting regularly. Rainy days were a tiny fraction.

Sun, clouds, rain, snow—meaningless in themselves. Only because of a racing heart did he unconsciously assign them significance.