The next morning, Starlight Entertainment’s nanny van came to pick up Lin Qinghe. Sun Lin and Xi Nian were both already there.
Sun Lin had just turned thirty-two this year. She had a mature, reliable look—white blouse on top, black pencil skirt on the bottom, a trench coat, and a pair of low heels. She was the kind of woman who commanded respect from men navigating the urban jungle.
“Sister Lin, Xi Nian.”
Sun Lin nodded. “How’s the script looking?”
Lin Qinghe fastened his seatbelt. “Finished reading it. I found it very interesting.”
Interesting in every sense of the word. Dream of the Blue Moon Night didn’t belong to the realistic genre—it carried a dreamy, ethereal quality. The male lead, Celine, was a merman and also the god of the Lantis Sea. The other male lead, Devin, was a duke in the royal court. They met during a pirate raid—Devin rescued the captive Celine, and from then on, the duke had a mysterious Easterner by his side. What seemed like a follower repaying a life-saving debt turned out to be something far more complex.
There were many buried clues, the mystery unraveling layer by layer, leading to a beautiful ending.
Films with dual male leads were quite popular these days. Audience acceptance was fairly high—capitalists spotted the commercial potential, and plenty were willing to invest. However, celebrities in same-sex romances were still not that common, and no one dared to go public about it.
Celine’s character was truly special. He was so far removed from the noise and dust of the mortal world, untouched by even a trace of worldly smoke. The things that could catch his eye were pitifully few—which meant he had little to say and rarely communicated with others. From an outsider’s perspective, he was cold, aloof, lonely, and unreachable. Yet at the same time, he was powerful and gentle. He would help lost ships find their course. He would rescue children who accidentally fell into the sea and were targeted by fierce predators.
In some ways, these traits bore a resemblance to Lin Qinghe. However, Celine possessed the power to destroy and create all living things. He stood above royal authority, so his aloofness was overt. But Lin Qinghe’s pride was born in his bones—gentle most of the time, rarely displayed.
Even after only one read-through, Lin Qinghe had already developed a certain fondness for the author’s Celine. Probably the mutual appreciation between kindred spirits.
Finding it interesting meant he was invested in the script. Sun Lin felt a bit of relief. If he had found it boring or tedious, that would have been agonizing—because then he’d not only have to endure the grueling refinement of acting skills, but also force himself to emotionally connect with the character.
She spoke. “Mm. I picked out a few variety shows over the past couple of days. They’re short on guests, and they’re all pretty good. When you have time, decide which one you want to join.”
Variety shows. Aunt Su liked following them in her free time. Sometimes Lin Qinghe would sit in front of the TV and watch along for a while—stars shedding their halos, becoming approachable and down-to-earth, cooking personally, playing games together, planning travel routes.
He fell silent for a moment, then said, “I don’t know how to cook.”
What he really meant was that his life experience was limited.
Xi Nian laughed out loud beside him. Truly worthy of her ethereal male god who couldn’t manage mortal affairs.
Sun Lin was uncharacteristically speechless. “No one is asking you to cook.”
She thought for a few seconds. It was still best to go with the actual situation and his strengths. “If you don’t like interacting with too many people, then cross off Escape Room and Murder Mystery. As for the remaining two, one is a rural fresh artistic style, the other is an easygoing folk travel style. The first one is in its third season with decent viewership. The second one is in its first season—the person in charge said the tasks aren’t demanding, but the artists need to reach the destinations on their own. There might be some hassle along the way.”
“Folk travel, easygoing style—that one sounds great,” Xi Nian exclaimed. “You get to experience local customs and play out a storyline.”
Lin Qinghe also leaned toward the last one. “Folk travel, easygoing style.”
“Fine. The name is ‘Go Relax When You Have Time.’ Since it’s the first season, there’s a sense of novelty. Audience anticipation is quite high. If there’s no problem, I’ll get back to the director on their end.”
.
The car drove for nearly an hour and a half before reaching the agreed meeting place—a constructed filming location.
Li Ran had sent someone out to receive them. The site worker was in his twenties.
The moment he saw Lin Qinghe, his tone was certain. “Hello, you must be Teacher Lin?”
It was the first time Lin Qinghe had been addressed as “Teacher.” A faint ripple stirred in his heart. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Yes.”
How can someone be this good-looking? In the video, I thought he had a beauty filter on. Never expected him to actually look like this, the site worker thought silently.
“Please follow me. The director is inside going over the script with some of the actors.”
Dream of the Blue Moon Night had poured an enormous budget into set construction. The architecture alone cost over two hundred million, not to mention all the other furnishings and displays. The goal was to restore certain scenes from the novel with one hundred percent accuracy. It was incredibly meticulous effort.
Lin Qinghe was led to the set. He gradually began to hear the sounds of discussion. When the worker ahead called out, “Teacher Lin is here,” the atmosphere immediately fell silent.
The people gathered around the table with scripts turned their heads. Their eyes lit up. The newcomer was dressed in simple, elegant clothes. His temperament was like a secluded orchid. Just standing there quietly, he formed a painting in himself.
Under the many gazes, Lin Qinghe’s expression remained composed as he inclined his head. “Hello, everyone.”
Li Ran, seated in the middle, waved Lin Qinghe over. His voice carried an undeniable authority as he introduced him to everyone. “Lin Qinghe, the male lead playing Celine. Little He, come sit.”
The moment Li Ran spoke, the thoughts of the crowd varied, but they all suppressed their surprise. Some offered their seats, some greeted him—the earlier liveliness resumed.
Li Ran ignored their internal reactions. His tone held a hint of care for a junior. “Have some hot water and rest. This will wrap up soon.”
Lin Qinghe thanked him warmly. His seat was in a subtle position—right next to the director. This was deliberate. In terms of his current standing, he couldn’t compare to those present. But he was the male lead, and more importantly, the male lead approved by Li Ran. He deserved to be given respect.
What was said to end soon indeed ended soon. Lin Qinghe was just getting into the flow of listening when suddenly the meeting dispersed.
“Little He, try a makeup test first. Let’s see how the look works.” Li Ran increasingly felt that choosing Lin Qinghe had been the right decision. He called out loudly, “Stage manager, take him to the makeup room. Has He Li arrived?”
“I’m here, Director Li. Waiting over there.”
He Li was a makeup artist with excellent skills. Early that morning, she’d been jolted awake by a call from Li Ran saying she needed to do Celine’s makeup.
So she had prepared very thoroughly. This was an important role—no room for carelessness.
But the second she saw Lin Qinghe, she felt all that thorough preparation might not have been necessary. His natural foundation was already more than solid.
“My goodness, you must have perfect genes.” He Li looked at the young man in the mirror and said with a smile, “Just a light touch-up for the face. The hair needs some work, though. Let me help you untie the hair ribbon.”
Lin Qinghe let her do as she pleased, completely cooperative.
“Now I’m going to paint the flower ornament on your forehead. If keeping your eyes open gets tiring, just close them. This might take a little while.” He Li entered work mode, her expression serious and focused. She delicately drew with her makeup brush. The face beneath her hands didn’t show the slightest flaw—fine, long lashes, exquisite features.
After finishing, she took out a cotton swab, dabbed it in a light-colored lip gloss, and applied it. She leaned back slightly. This makeup had a bit of that Lantis god’s aura now.
About twenty minutes later, He Li finished and marveled, “Perfect.”
Lin Qinghe was stunned for half a second, almost failing to recognize himself. He tapped the corner of his lip with his index finger. “Teacher, you painted this very beautifully.”
He Li chuckled lightly, quite pleased. She pointed to the changing room. “Go change. The costume is hung up inside. The one in deep cerulean.”
It took Lin Qinghe quite a while to get changed. To be precise, it wasn’t exactly clothing—more like a robe. The collar was embroidered with a few unknown small white flowers. Paired with the beautiful blue, it immediately exuded magnificence. The sleeves could catch the wind. The waist was cinched just right. The hem fell down to a few inches above his ankle.
He stepped out of the fitting room. He Li excitedly put accessories on him. “Heavens, it’s literally Celine himself!”
Lin Qinghe curved his eyes.
Returning to the set, he sensed the people around him all holding their breath.
The silver bells on his ankle chimed with every step, every step, clear and melodious—like heavenly music played by a god. It stirred an involuntary sense of taboo, of heart-thumping allure.
Xi Nian had grown bored waiting in the car, so she’d come to the filming location. When she looked up, she wasn’t entirely sure if that was actually her male god.
Too sacred. It felt as if letting one’s gaze linger even a second longer would be sacrilege.
“Old Li, this film is definitely going to blow up,” Assistant Director Fan Wenbo said, dragging hard on his cigarette and sighing. “Your persistence was right. Otherwise, how could we have run into Lin Qinghe?”
Li Ran remained relatively steady. “Mm. Sun Lin said this kid has no acting experience. There’ll be plenty of struggling ahead.”
Saying this, he also sighed. “Still, I’ve got to make this film perfect. Otherwise, I won’t be able to face that flawless image.”
The two directors looked at each other, then shared a knowing smile.
Years of collaboration—partners and friends. The success of every film couldn’t be separated from their mutual support.
Since the makeup was decided, they might as well take the promotional stills. Li Ran called Jiang Nian and asked where he was. The reply came: wait a few minutes, he’d be there soon. This was Li Ran’s second collaboration with Jiang Nian. Their first had been Daybreak, which broke six billion at the box office back then. He was a born actor—just thoroughly buried in the early days.
Jiang Nian himself was extraordinarily handsome, like a gentleman from medieval Europe—a tall nose bridge, strikingly sculpted contours. He had cute eye smiles when he laughed. His visuals were top-tier, ten out of ten in durability. His fans all called him the ultimate delicacy of the bold-featured type, and no one in the industry contradicted it.
“Little He, perfect timing—the other male lead is also coming. You two can get familiar with each other. Go take the stills together later.” Li Ran hung up and spoke to Lin Qinghe.
After about five minutes, Lin Qinghe saw a young man approaching in the near distance. His legs were long and straight. He wore a light caramel-colored thin sweater and a black mask. Just from his eyes, one could tell his looks were far from ordinary.
“Director Li, Director Fan.” Jiang Nian took off his mask and greeted them. When his gaze landed on Lin Qinghe, he nodded politely.
Lin Qinghe returned the courtesy just as politely.
“You rascal, was the vacation fun?” Li Ran occasionally checked his social circles and had scrolled past Jiang Nian’s photos of traveling abroad. He had to admit, it looked pretty leisurely and carefree—even made him, past sixty, a little envious.
“Not bad.” Jiang Nian smiled in response. “Gave myself a long break.”
Getting back to business, after the teasing, Li Ran spoke. “Little He is your partner in this film. He’s a newcomer, you’re the senior. I don’t need to say more, do I?”
Jiang Nian was adept at handling situations. While responding to Li Ran, he didn’t forget to direct his attention toward Lin Qinghe as well, so no one felt excluded. “I know. He’s basically my junior disciple. I’ll keep an eye out.”
In truth, he’d only found out a few days ago that Lin Qinghe was his junior disciple—something Xi Yan had told him. There were some entanglements involved, concerning Chen Dong’s superior and Xu Anyu. Mainly Xu An—
So the relationship between Lin Qinghe and Cen Han was shrouded in a layer of fog. Rumor had it that when someone tried to give Lin Qinghe trouble during his livestream a few days ago, Cen Han stepped in and threw ten million to make that person get lost.
Somehow, the moment Jiang Nian saw Lin Qinghe, he thought of that phrase: spending a fortune just to win a beauty’s smile.
Lin Qinghe was born too exquisitely beautiful. Putting such an exquisite person together with Cen Han—it was only natural for some ambiguous thoughts to arise.
“Alright, enough said. Go get your makeup done.” Li Ran waved his hand. “Qinghe, you and your senior brother get familiar with each other quickly. No issues, and we’ll pick an auspicious day next week to start filming.”
