Huo Fei sighed emotionally. “You’ve been acting for over a decade and you’re still just a stunt extra. You’re hardly innocent.”
The words were venomous, but they at least eased the tension.
Bao Song was someone Jing Deyu had brought along, so he had no choice but to apologize laboriously. “Big Brother Dai, sorry about that. He never thinks before he speaks—always rambling nonsense with wild imagination. Don’t take it to heart.”
Bao Song was also flustered and distracted, unsure how he’d blurted it out so bluntly. Dai Linxuan was an investor; one look from him could get Bao Song fired.
He apologized helplessly. “Yeah, sorry. I don’t even know what I was thinking just now…”
Dai Linxuan didn’t respond. His expression gave nothing away. But his temper was always good, so he probably wouldn’t hold it against Bao Song. The real concern was Lai Li.
Jing Deyu felt like this sugar daddy arrangement wasn’t just wearing down his body—it was shortening his lifespan.
Dai Linxuan pried away the arm wrapped around his waist and patted it lightly twice. “There are a few large dogs inside. Don’t go in.”
Though the crew strictly forbade outsiders from entering, that rule was meaningless for Lai Li. If he wanted in, he could find a hundred ways to break through.
Lai Li’s eyelids drooped slightly, and he stayed silent.
It was a sign of non-cooperation. Dai Linxuan glanced at the time. “Don’t you have an event later?”
“We’re just wandering around A District this afternoon. There’s a bonfire party at Seaboard tonight.” Huo Fei grinned suggestively. “All handsome guys and beautiful women. Coming, Big Brother Dai?”
“I’ll pass.” Dai Linxuan’s gaze flickered slightly as he said mildly, “The temperature difference between morning and evening has been big lately, especially by the sea. Don’t catch a cold.”
Huo Fei and Jing Deyu nodded in unison.
Dai Linxuan turned to Lai Li. “I told you yesterday, I have plans today. You…”
“Dinner’s still a ways off.” Lai Li took a step back, hands in his pockets. “I’ll stick with you until dinnertime, then head to Seaboard with them.”
“Stick with me?” Dai Linxuan smiled ambiguously but didn’t refute Lai Li in front of others. “I’ll be at the set all afternoon.”
Lai Li said, “Together.”
Dai Linxuan repeated, “There are dogs.”
Lai Li insisted, “No problem.”
Dai Linxuan said nothing more. He glanced at Bao Song and reminded him, “When you arrive, announce it in the group chat so the production team can escort you to your lodging.”
Bao Song had barely breathed since earlier, his face flushed red. At the words, he felt like he’d been granted amnesty and kept saying, “Got it! Thanks, President Dai!”
Dai Linxuan and Lai Li walked side by side along the bumpy dirt road. Soon, their figures vanished around the bend.
Jing Deyu slapped Bao Song across the mouth. “You idiot!”
“I-I… I messed up.” Bao Song said dejectedly. “Did I cause you trouble?”
“What trouble for me? You’re the one in trouble!” Jing Deyu snapped irritably. “Go look it up online yourself—what kind of temper does Lai Li have?”
Bao Song breathed a sigh of relief. “As long as I didn’t drag you down, I’m good.”
“No big deal. Lai Li hasn’t killed anyone yet, so he won’t start with you.” Huo Fei recalled something. “In terms of severity, He Shuxin comes first anyway before it gets to you.”
Bao Song: “…”
“Forget it. Just focus on filming for now.” Jing Deyu thought of the incident at the billiards hall last time and frowned slightly, but he still said, “Don’t speculate wildly anymore. First off, those two aren’t blood-related. Second, they really get along great. A hug is totally normal. Foreigners say ‘I miss you’ and ‘I love you’ all the time, don’t they? Lai Li’s just more expressive with his emotions. Don’t make a fuss over nothing.”
Huo Fei dug in his ear again, feeling like something was off about that speech.
Bao Song gave a dry “Oh,” unsure if he bought it.
“How are we supposed to live in this dump?” Jing Deyu stomped the dust off his shoes and frowned. “I bought an RV but you refused to use it. Didn’t hire an assistant either. Do I look short on cash?”
Bao Song said honestly, “Too flashy. I’m just a minor supporting role.”
The leads and major supporting actors had mostly brought RVs, parked on a plot of demolished wasteland. Tents dotted the area around them, along with barbecue grills and even a mahjong machine.
It didn’t look like a film set—it looked like a group camping trip.
Lai Li and Dai Linxuan descended the steps to the low-lying area of F District. Turning around, they could see the entire stretch of old, undemolished buildings at a glance—layer upon layer like steps climbing to the mountaintop. Single-story houses alternated with dilapidated residential blocks, densely packed and overlapping. Abandoned wires dangled messily between the structures, while crooked, moss-covered steps appeared and vanished, ready to send passersby tumbling at any moment.
“Woof! Woof!” Several large dogs were tied to a utility pole at the alley mouth. They barked furiously at anyone passing by—annoying, but harmless.
As they walked, Dai Linxuan fell to Lai Li’s right, perfectly blocking the dogs’ view.
“The place you used to live was in B District. It’s been demolished.”
“I know.”
Lai Li had no interest in revisiting old haunts. He’d come here entirely because of Dai Linxuan. The faint excitement from that paternity test report finally ebbed away now, retreating like shadows into hidden corners, piling up with past darkness—out of sight, allowing Lai Li to pass as normal.
But they squirmed and bulged there, craving the outside light, poised to spill over soon.
“Woof!!”
Lai Li’s fingertip hooked, grasping his brother’s wrist.
Dai Linxuan’s expression faded slightly. He started to pull away but remembered Lai Li’s lifelong fear of dogs and let him hold on.
The dogs barked even more frantically. “Awoo!!”
Lai Li lagged half a step behind, shooting a cold glare over Dai Linxuan’s back.
The pack fell silent at once, tails tucked involuntarily.
“These dogs have been acting since they were pups. They’re all well-tempered.” Dai Linxuan sent a message with one hand, telling the director to have staff bring the dogs inside.
Lai Li withdrew his gaze. “What do they play here?”
Dai Linxuan said, “Criminals’ guard dogs.”
He’d expected Lai Li to ask for plot details, but instead came an unrelated question. “Did the old man give you trouble?”
Dai Linxuan scolded mildly, “No manners.”
He stepped onto the rickety stairs. The dogs were out of sight now, so he withdrew his wrist and rubbed it twice. “He definitely said a few things, but it’s not trouble.”
“Does it hurt?” Lai Li reached out, but his brother dodged.
He stopped in his tracks, staring at Dai Linxuan’s back with an inscrutable expression.
“Not really anymore.” Dai Linxuan stood on the step above and looked back. “What’s up?”
Lai Li casually caught up. “How do you ensure those directors won’t leak the video?”
“Grandpa was there when the video arrived. He ordered everyone to hand over their phones and delete it on the spot.” Dai Linxuan said lightly. “Maybe someone kept a copy privately, but looking around, which media outlet would dare report it?”
Just like the sulfuric acid incident at the Welfare Home—hadn’t any media gotten the tip?
Of course they had. No one dared publish.
They circled to the RV area. The director, producer, Yan Luan, and others were there, gathered around a mahjong table. Only one face was unfamiliar to Lai Li.
A little thought revealed who it was.
Why would investor Dai Linxuan spend his entire afternoon at the set? To accompany someone. And the only one worth that time was the major shareholder he was meeting today—Li Zheng.
One of the men, with refined features, was director Yan An. Seeing Dai Linxuan return, he stood immediately, tone intimate. “Sorry about that, Linxuan. We made you lose with such a good hand last round.”
“No worries. You play; I’ll watch.” Dai Linxuan loosely draped an arm around Lai Li’s shoulder. “My little brother, Lai Li.”
Dai Linxuan only introduced one other. “This is Director Li. You’ve met Teacher Yan Luan before.”
Lai Li nodded in greeting. “Director Li, Teacher Luan.”
His expressionless gaze swept over the rest—the male lead, female supporting actress number two, and director Yan An. All had designs on his brother.
The first two fawned openly; the latter sneaked longing glances, utterly repulsive.
Li Zheng usually kept a low profile with little media coverage. He looked a few years older than Yan Luan, amiable and scholarly when smiling, faintly roguish otherwise.
He greeted familiarly. “Does Little Chestnut play mahjong?”
Lai Li replied, “Never have.”
“Want to give it a go?” Li Zheng seemed very interested. “Have your big brother teach you.”
The male lead smartly stood and offered his seat.
Dai Linxuan patted Lai Li’s waist. “Play if you want.”
It didn’t matter if he didn’t.
Lai Li caught the implication in his brother’s words but still pulled out a chair and sat.
Dai Linxuan stood behind him, his hand resting lightly on Lai Li’s shoulder as he patiently explained the rules for drawing tiles and winning hands.
Across the table, Yan An kept glancing over. Lai Li didn’t need to turn to know Yan An was eyeing his brother’s hand.
Dai Linxuan’s hands matched the man—flawlessly smooth and pale as jade, distinct joints, nails always impeccably clean and rounded.
Lai Li lifted his hand, capturing Dai Linxuan’s fingers on his shoulder and pinching lightly twice. “Seems pretty simple.”
“No more lessons needed?”
“Nah.” Lai Li leaned lazily back in his chair, pulling Dai Linxuan’s hand to his side. “I’ll signal you when I need a hint.”
Everyone chuckled. Yan Luan smiled lightly. “Using secret signals already? Linxuan, no peeking at our tiles.”
A ticklish sensation crossed his palm. Dai Linxuan looked down to see Lai Li’s fingertip slip away, then weave into his fingers.
He watched for a bit, then lifted his gaze with a faint smile. “I won’t look.”
The brat hadn’t listened to a word.
He hadn’t spanked hard enough. Should’ve made it so he couldn’t get out of bed for a week—then he’d crawl back to school once healed.
With his left hand occupied, Dai Linxuan lifted his right to Lai Li’s other shoulder, pressing down subtly but firmly.
The body under his hand stiffened predictably—the swollen buttocks hadn’t bruised down that fast.
Lai Li’s expression didn’t change as he pinched his brother’s pinky. “Take a look?”
“Push.” Dai Linxuan kept his face mild. “You win.”
Li Zheng pressed the lift button, sending the tiles back in. “Beginner’s luck is unbeatable. Look how smooth those tiles were.”
Everyone laughed, showering Lai Li with praise.
They played mahjong all afternoon without touching business—as if they were just friends killing time.
The chair was a hard wooden one, terribly uncomfortable. Dai Linxuan was determined to make Lai Li suffer it, refusing to let him up all afternoon.
Until sunset. Yan Luan checked the time. “You guys hungry?”
“Starving. Let’s eat.” Li Zheng said reluctantly. “Next time, no beginner’s luck, Little Chestnut. Can’t let you win without staking anything.”
Lai Li casually pushed over the chips. “I thought we weren’t playing for money.”
“We’re not.” Li Zheng grinned and pulled out a kaleidoscope worth tens of thousands. “The prize is a little trinket. Your brother said earlier he’d win it as a back-to-school gift for you. Didn’t expect you’d snag it yourself.”
Dai Linxuan chuckled. “Guess I’ll have to pick another gift.”
Li Zheng laughed too. “Take your time picking. A little brother you brought home yourself deserves extra thought.”
The group dispersed. Actors except Yan Luan had to return to filming; Yan An as director naturally did too. But not without endless small talk first.
Yan An’s eyes held a smile. “Linxuan, when are you…”
Lai Li hooked an arm around his brother’s shoulders and lifted his gaze. “I need to pee.”
“…” Dai Linxuan glanced sideways at him.
Lai Li was succinct. “Dogs.”
Dai Linxuan smoothly sidestepped Yan An’s unfinished words with polite words. “We’ll leave the rest to you. Looking forward to the final product—until next time.”
Yan An eyed their intimate posture, his gaze darkening slightly. “Sure. The road’s rough; be careful.”
Just inside the bathroom, Dai Linxuan shook off Lai Li’s arm. “No blackout?”
Lai Li had said he needed to pee but made no move to unzip. Instead, he chatted. “This Li Zheng… I don’t know him, right?”
Dai Linxuan said, “Of course not.”
Lai Li asked again, “Does he know me?”
Dai Linxuan quirked his lip teasingly. “Young Master Lai’s reputation—who hasn’t heard?”
“You allowed it.” Lai Li’s face didn’t flush. “When did you learn mahjong?”
“Recently.” Dai Linxuan said. “Director Li’s biggest hobby is mahjong.”
He’d learned it specially for Li Zheng.
Lai Li’s heart chilled as he softly said, “How long have you known that Yan An that you’re letting him call you so intimately?”
