Chapter 24: Entanglement

Today’s shoot mainly featured Lin Qinghe’s scenes, so he had to get up early. After washing up, he changed and headed to the main hall, running into Cen Han, who was about to leave.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to Cen Han in two days. He softly said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Cen Han stood nearby, his clothes crisp, tie neatly in place—the very picture of propriety and elegance. He nodded in acknowledgment. “Getting used to the set?”

Lin Qinghe replied, “It’s going well. Everything’s fine.”

“Hm.” Ordinarily, Lin Qinghe wouldn’t be out at this hour, so Cen Han asked another question: “A lot of scenes today?”

“A bit.” Lin Qinghe smiled slightly, as if reporting to a superior. “It’ll take more time than usual.”

Acting, after all, sometimes left you with plenty of free time, and sometimes you had to be in front of the camera all day. If the director was a perfectionist, they might work until two or three in the morning.

Not long after, the driver, Little Li, pulled up outside the flower bed. Cen Han picked up his documents and tilted his head slightly toward Lin Qinghe, his gaze deep. “I’m off. If you’re home late, remember to send a message. Aunt Su and I are both fine with it.”

Lin Qinghe nodded. “All right. Safe trip, Mr. Cen.”

Just as Cen Han’s car left, Xi Nian arrived at Xiangtan. The weather had suddenly turned hot, much warmer than yesterday. She wore a light purple camisole dress, her hair tied in a bun—spirited and beautiful.

“I’ve brought everything. Let’s go, Brother.”

Inside the nanny van on the main road, Xi Nian seemed in a good mood. “Those two fans who visited the set yesterday took photos of you. The comments section was hilarious—people going from casual viewers to fans, antis turning into fans.”

“There’s also a netizen called WorkThreeHoursADay—that was the lady who gifted you a Ferrari during your first livestream. She probably has some connections; she actually collected the animated gif from your first screen appearance.”

“So the already lively comments section got even livelier.”

“There are also fans who miss you a lot, asking when you’ll come back.”

Lin Qinghe hadn’t paid much attention to online chatter lately. Just figuring out how to act well consumed most of his energy, so he had no time for anything else. Everything he knew came from Xi Nian.

As for when to return, he asked, “Wouldn’t it be too conspicuous to make a move now?”

Xi Nian smoothed her skirt. “True. But because of your recent fame, Sister Lin says people are already approaching her for endorsement deals. She hasn’t agreed yet; she wants to wait. Right now, it’s all small companies. Later on, as your stock rises, endorsement fees will go up too.”

Sun Lin was incredibly driven in her career. The best way to describe her would be a queen who could afford diamonds and jewelry on her own. She was capable and shrewd, never slacking off, and had a sharp, confident air about her.

Aside from filming, Lin Qinghe was very comfortable leaving everything else to Sun Lin and Xi Nian.

He shifted gears. “Mm, a full comeback isn’t appropriate. What about a low-key livestream? Just a few minutes, no reposting on Weibo, just chatting with the fans.”

Xi Nian thought about it. “I think that could work. I’ll ask Brother Chen and the others later.”

From whatever standpoint you chose, you mapped your own path. Lin Qinghe knew that a third of his prior exposure was thanks to his own strength, a third to his fans’ support, and a third to luck. If he only had strength and luck without fans to push him forward, this road would be difficult. All three were indispensable.

He saw it clearly.

On a high platform, applause and cheers only made it truly glorious.

Today’s shoot was more complicated. Under Li Ran’s direction, the crew set up multiple camera positions, even one suspended from the rafters, pulled by ropes.

On the same prop ship, the extras had their makeup done. Women wore vintage long dresses; men wore boots, jackets, and some also had long robes. Just by appearances, they looked like rustic old-time merchants.

“Male leads, male leads, calling the two male leads.” The voice was amplified through a loudspeaker.

Lin Qinghe and Jiang Nian had become quite familiar by now and occasionally cracked a harmless joke or two. They often got together to run lines, so absorbed they’d forget the world. Their respective assistants, resigned, had exchanged contacts and become close friends who gossiped together.

“Brother Li’s calling. Let’s head over, Senior Brother.” Lin Qinghe waited until Jiang Nian finished his last line before speaking.

Jiang Nian responded, “Let’s go.”

“Are you two ready?” Li Ran asked when he saw them.

Jiang Nian put down his script. “Just about. We can start.”

Li Ran gestured to the stage crew.

“Action!”

This scene required the extras to depict chaos, noise, and panic. The Azure Waves Vessel had encountered a storm at sea. The people on board fell into despair, grabbing at each other, stumbling and staggering as they fled to the middle decks. The captain had done everything in his power to avert disaster, but the five waterspouts were simply too destructive. He could only watch helplessly as everyone headed to their deaths.

At that moment, Celine rescued the ship from its plight—but the price was exhausting all his spiritual energy.

The sky was dark and gloomy. Wind whipped the sea into waves. Beneath the snow-white foam lay a bottomless, eerie blue, as if a beast with bared fangs lurked in ambush. Storm clouds gathered; torrential rain hammered the water. The waterspouts moved slowly. All around, the waves surged wildly, heaving up towering swells several yards high.

Inside the cabin, the captain fought against the immense waves, concentrating every nerve, not daring a moment’s carelessness. Sweat soaked his back.

An overwhelming sense of helplessness rose in him. It wasn’t that they’d discovered the danger too late—it was that the storm had descended too quickly. Humans simply couldn’t contend with nature. They might well be buried at sea, along with the ship.

“Quick, tell Colonel Ian—we probably can’t hold on, there’s no way, really…” He choked up, tore off his hat, and wiped his tears. “There’s really no way. I’m sorry.”

“Colonel! Colonel!” The messenger stumbled and crawled to Colonel Ian. Before so many pairs of eyes, he dared not repeat the captain’s exact words aloud. He lowered his voice and whispered in Ian’s ear: “The captain says… there’s no way. He can’t control the ship anymore. Tell us to prepare for the… the worst.”

Ian’s expression instantly soured, his heart sinking like lead. He took a deep breath and asked, “Where is Duke Devin?”

A massive whirlpool had formed on the sea’s surface, affecting an area dozens of miles around. Wherever the five waterspouts passed, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled, churning the sea. The ship’s engines failed, unable to escape being dragged into the vortex.

Duke Devin reached the upper deck. The wind and rain mercilessly snapped off the railings and overturned everything. The drenched deck was so waterlogged it was nearly impossible to walk. He gripped tightly to something that kept him from being swept away, then raised a dagger and drove it into a gap, finally steadying himself.

Through the curtain of rain, a pale blue barrier surrounded Celine. He stood on an open patch, hands placed before him, forming a hand seal and quietly reciting a Divine Spirit Curse. In that instant, his black hair flew upward, and the blue mark on his forehead flashed brilliantly. The curse’s spiritual power radiated in all directions.

For a moment, the storm seemed to stall—but the suppressing force was nowhere near enough. The ship was already approaching the center of the whirlpool. Once it crossed the critical point, it would be sucked straight in, without a trace. To make matters worse, two waterspouts had trapped the ship between them.

Celine looked up for a moment, then his figure vanished on the spot.

The Divine Spirit Curse had lost effect, so he had to use an even stronger spiritual power to intervene. Hanging in midair, he raised a hand and traced an arc, then with the force of a thunderbolt, instantly pressed downward. The two forces clashed, evenly matched.

The ship rocked violently. Everything loaded on board toppled and overturned. The storm raged as if it were the end of the world. Only within the barrier seemed safe. Celine’s expression remained calm, the force behind his hand never lessening.

The next moment, a colossal Spirit Array descended from the heavens, radiating brilliant light. The array was composed of complex patterns. At its center were nine interlocking rings, each connected to a star chain. The outer edge was filled with divine script. The entire sea region opposite the whirlpool was instantly shrouded. Celine’s robes whipped violently; he was persevering almost purely on willpower. The Spirit Array gradually accelerated its descent.

In this life-or-death moment, the storm began to show signs of abating. The whirlpool’s speed lessened. Sensing the opportunity, Celine poured out his last shred of strength, covering his left hand as well. He drove the waterspouts to vanish on the spot.

The whirlpool was cut off at its base. The waters surged backward. The storm clouds dispersed. The thunder faded. All was silent, save for the Spirit Array spiraling faintly into nothingness.

An irresistible force radiated outward from Celine in all directions, sweeping across the sea, causing waves to roll.

Under that double impact, a heavy sound boomed and burst forth. The ship was knocked back a full dozen meters and almost capsized.

A figure fell into the sea like a kite with a broken string, sending water splashing everywhere.

Duke Devin’s expression shifted. He threw down his dagger and dove from the ship. An excellent swimmer, he cut unhindered through the water toward the sinking Celine.

Celine had expended too much spiritual power and had no choice but to slip into a temporary slumber. His eyes were closed, his sleeping face peaceful. His legs transformed into a fishtail. The currents gently lifted his sleeves, as if tenderly soothing him.

A hand grabbed his wrist, brooking no resistance, pulling him forward.

Duke Devin wrapped his arm around Celine’s waist and brought him to the surface. The camera zoomed in for a close-up. The coloring and composition of the scene created a breathtakingly beautiful image.

“Cut!”

Lin Qinghe was practically dragged in a sorry state back to the poolside by the safety crew. His whole body was drained, so exhausted he couldn’t even lift a hand. If it weren’t for the people around him, he would have just sprawled out on the ground.

This one scene had been shot all day, and it still wasn’t a wrap.

During the group shots, he had kept practicing with the wire rig. It had been enormously difficult just to perform moves in midair. Actually, the pain and bruises didn’t matter much; what he dreaded most was going into the water afterward. He couldn’t swim and could never forget the near-death fear of falling into the lotus pond. So it took him a very long time to learn breath control and adjust.

But the moment he sank underwater, he would thrash violently.

Li Ran said, “Qinghe, take a breather first.”

Xi Nian handed Lin Qinghe some hot water and noticed he was trembling.

“Brother Qinghe, are you cold?”

Lin Qinghe caught his breath and shook his head. He’d been in the water so many times that he couldn’t feel hot or cold anymore. It was his fear that was acting up.

At nine in the evening, all the crew were waiting for him. Just one last shot left and everyone could get off work.

A few minutes later, his expression calm, he said, “Brother Li, let’s start.”

Water surged over his mouth and nose. Lin Qinghe held his breath, forcing himself to think of nothing, to empty his mind.

He was almost at his limit.

Don’t give up.

Don’t give up.

Don’t give up.

Finally, Jiang Nian swam over, took his hand, and pulled him away.

The moment he broke the surface of the water, he felt an unprecedented sense of relief. He heard Li Ran shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Good, it’s a take, a take!”

“Your expression right now is like… like when a doctor tells you your family is safe.”

Lin Qinghe and Jiang Nian exchanged a silent glance for a second, then both burst out laughing.

By the time they finished packing up and left the shooting location, it was very late.

It was past eleven when Lin Qinghe returned to Xiangtan.

Hearing movement, Aunt Su came downstairs. “Qinghe.”

Lin Qinghe slowly sat down on the sofa. “Aunt Su, do we have any liniment for bruises?”

“We do. What happened to you?”

He pulled up a pant leg, revealing several bruises. “The wire rig left some marks.”

Aunt Su let out a cry. “Wait right here. I’ll go get it for you.”

Lin Qinghe figured he probably had more injuries in places he couldn’t see. He wanted to shower before applying the medicine. Aunt Su placed the spray on the coffee table and returned to her room. The TV was playing. He sat quietly for a while, his consciousness slipping beyond his control, gradually growing hazy.

Later still, Cen Han stepped into the hall and saw Lin Qinghe, who had fallen asleep leaning against the sofa.

His breathing was steady, but his expression held some fatigue. Overall, he looked rather haggard.

Cen Han called Lin Qinghe’s name.

No response. He was sleeping soundly.

He walked slowly over. Just as he was about to speak a second time, Lin Qinghe’s upper body began to slide sideways. The moment he was about to topple over, Cen Han reached out. A weight settled against his forearm, and the faint fragrance of ink lingered around them.

Such a big movement and he still hadn’t woken—he must be thoroughly exhausted.

The bruise-relief spray caught Cen Han’s attention. He understood.

He laid the person flat on the sofa and withdrew his hand, his movements laced with an almost imperceptible gentleness. Midway through pulling away, he discovered a problem: strands of Lin Qinghe’s hair had tangled around his cufflink.

What a nuisance.

He bowed his head to untangle them. Before him, the other’s lashes were long and dark, his features refined, and his lipstick not completely removed, leaving a trace of rosy color. He looked utterly defenseless.

It took him quite a while to get them free. He stood, took the small throw blanket nearby, and spread it over Lin Qinghe.

A phone suddenly rang, only to be cut off within two seconds. The other party persistently called again. Without even glancing, Cen Han silenced the incoming call.

When his gaze returned to Lin Qinghe, he met a pair of clear, luminous eyes.