“Fractured?”
The doctor nodded and pointed to the wrist on the X-ray. “It’s best to rest for a while. Put on a cast.”
Lin Wu said nothing.
Xu Qing’s face went pale first.
“But there’s still filming to do…”
He carefully glanced at Lin Wu’s face. The young man’s profile remained calm. He still hadn’t said a word, merely staring down at his own hand.
His lowered eyelashes stood out distinctly. The skin on the side of his face without the birthmark was very fair, accentuating the straight, prominent line of his nose.
Xu Qing’s heart began to race.
He never imagined that in that moment of crisis, 05’s first instinct had been to save him.
They said a person’s subconscious reaction in danger revealed their true feelings better than anything else.
A person’s instinct was always to protect themselves. So how could Lin Wu…
“05…”
Xu Qing gently touched Lin Wu’s uninjured hand.
When he didn’t pull away, Xu Qing’s ears turned red, and he took hold of it.
“?”
Lin Wu looked down at their hands, then up at him.
But before their eyes could meet, the clinic door swung open again.
Lin Wu looked up to see Ji Xingci with a small bandage on his forehead. Frowning deeply, he appeared in the corridor.
Ji Xingci had received VIP treatment the moment he arrived and had been whisked upstairs.
Lin Wu hadn’t expected him to come back down.
He grew instantly wary and hurried to his feet. The last thing he wanted was for Ji Xingci and Xu Qing to have any kind of interaction.
Ji Xingci spotted the two of them holding hands so intimately and felt a surge of irritation.
He strode inside and glanced at the X-ray on the table.
“Fractured?”
“Tch. Big hero.”
“So what do you plan to do now? How’s the movie supposed to go on?”
Ji Xingci had already looked into Lin Wu’s background. Now he was eager to make him regret choosing to save Xu Qing instead of him.
“Your old songs got stolen, right? Then you tried pitching new ones everywhere, but nobody wanted them. You’ve still got breach-of-contract fees to pay, and now you can’t even film this movie.”
“I’m asking you—what are you going to do?”
Lin Wu did indeed panic. “I can still film.”
“I don’t need the cast.”
Ji Xingci’s expression didn’t improve. If anything, it darkened further.
“Do you want to ruin your hand for good?!”
“I…”
“Even if you don’t care about your own hand, the crew won’t take that risk!
“And let’s be real—how are you supposed to act well while enduring that kind of pain? If you don’t have the skills, why play the hero?”
Ji Xingci’s irritation fueled his words, making them cut like a knife—as if the crew had already decided to drop him.
But then Lin Wu looked up at him, and his eyes gradually reddened.
He looked utterly pitiful.
Ji Xingci: “…”
“Whatever. Go ask the director.”
With that, he walked out. He’d seemed to get what he wanted, but it didn’t bring him any satisfaction.
Back at the set, the director was worried sick and immediately asked about Lin Wu’s condition.
That cabinet had been genuinely heavy—nailed to the wall, no less—and yet the accident had still happened. After they’d left, several crew members had struggled to lift it. No one knew how Ji Xingci had managed it on his own.
Ji Xingci snapped irritably, “It’s fractured.”
The director’s face fell.
They’d filmed almost everything. He hated the idea of recasting now, but delays were bleeding money.
“How about we finish your scenes first? Then, when it’s time for your shared shots, just take it easy on him?”
From a distance, Ji Xingci watched the others clearing debris and equipment around the cabinet area. The memory of Lin Wu not pushing him away only stoked his anger.
“Why should I…”
But he trailed off, the image of Lin Wu’s teary eyes flashing in his mind.
Fine.
“Alright. Let him rest a couple days, then we’ll see.”
The director sighed. “This scene’s been nothing but trouble.”
Ji Xingci didn’t linger on set. For one thing, his own face was marred now—he needed a couple days to rest.
For another, he’d rushed off to confront Lin Wu, only for the accident to happen. He’d ended up making a trip to the hospital.
And now, he still felt sticky down there.
The Young Master never wore a soiled outfit twice. When had he ever endured such indignity?
By the time he got home and showered, night had fallen.
For the first time, Ji Xingci felt like his house was too big—too empty. Even with the butler around, they were rarely on the same floor.
As dusk settled in, the place felt hollow, like the gaping maw of some massive beast. A prison.
He couldn’t help replaying the day’s events.
How had that person even gotten in? The set was crawling with crew, and there were cameras everywhere. Had he climbed in through a window?
Ji Xingci first dismissed the idea as absurd. But then he remembered how easily that man had pinned him down. Scaling the building by hand didn’t seem so far-fetched…
The problem was, he’d checked himself carefully in the shower.
There were no injuries on his body.
What the hell was going on?
Ji Xingci didn’t want to admit it, but ever since he’d ruled out Lin Wu as the culprit, a thread of unease had started to creep in.
He even found himself subconsciously spreading his legs, probing deeper out of curiosity. There really wasn’t any injury.
At first, he was just puzzled. But gradually, he zoned out, chasing that strange sense of satisfaction from earlier in the day. When he snapped back to reality and realized what he was doing, his face burned crimson. He nearly punched himself.
What the hell!
Damn it!
It was all that damn script’s fault. And that guy—don’t let him get caught.
He grabbed another ice pack, but he was still uncomfortable and in no mood to sleep.
He really did need someone by his side to handle his sexual urges…
And to make sure he wasn’t losing his mind.
But who?
Ji Xingci couldn’t think of anyone. He didn’t want to stay cooped up in the empty house, so he got in his car and aimlessly cruised the streets late into the night. Somehow, he ended up in the run-down district.
Without realizing it, he’d arrived at the place where Lin Wu and Xu Qing lived.
Meanwhile, Lin Wu had gotten his cast on after all, then carefully wrapped it in plastic.
He’d been planning to shower and hit the hay when Xu Qing called from outside the bathroom.
“05, do you need any help?”
Lin Wu froze. “Huh?”
“No—I mean, I’m just worried it’ll be inconvenient, or get wet.”
Xu Qing blushed the moment the words left his mouth, a pang of regret hitting him.
Even if they were close, offering to help someone bathe felt like crossing a line. And yet his heart was pounding.
He wanted to know if Lin Wu would say yes—just like he wanted to know why Lin Wu’s first instinct had been to save him.
“…”
“No need, bro.”
Lin Wu started to say more, but then his phone pinged with a location notification from the Protagonist Gong.
His expression shifted.
Why was Ji Xingci here?
Their gong-shou relationship hadn’t progressed at all. They’d only met once—how had this turned into such a mess?
Lin Wu frowned. No, he had to completely prevent those two from ever crossing paths again.
He locked the bathroom door, then flung open the window and climbed out.
He landed lightly in the empty, pitch-black alley, moving with the grace of a cat.
As he headed toward the street, he buttoned up the shirt he had undone earlier for his shower.
By the time he circled around to the front of the apartment building, Ji Xingci’s car had just pulled up downstairs.
The Young Master rubbed his forehead, suddenly unsure what the hell he was even doing here.
Did he want to see Xu Qing? Not really.
So why had he come?
That’s when he spotted a figure in the glow of his headlights.
“?”
He stepped out of the car. Sure enough, it was Lin Wu.
Lin Wu saw him too and strode right over.
The headlights washed the young man’s face ghostly pale. His hair was still damp, and his shirt clung wetly to his skin.
Ji Xingci almost asked why Lin Wu was out here, but Lin Wu beat him to it.
“Why are you here?”
Ji Xingci: “…”
Oh, right. Him showing up at their building in the dead of night was the weirder thing.
He clamped his mouth shut.
Lin Wu stared at him steadily, his expression gradually turning pitiful again.
“Is it… because of the movie? I can’t be in it anymore…?”
Ji Xingci: “…”
As if someone of his stature would show up at this hour just to deliver that news!
“Actually, I can do it. It’s not that different.”
Lin Wu had clearly been fretting over it nonstop—he’d memorized the script cold. He rattled off the few remaining scenes in no time, then suddenly threw his arms around Ji Xingci.
Ji Xingci went rigid.
“If I hug you like this, the camera won’t catch whether this hand looks natural… and…”
Lin Wu leaned in closer. Ji Xingci’s face heated up; he shoved him back.
“Don’t grope me.”
Lin Wu stumbled a step, clutching his hand.
“Ow… so I really can’t film it?”
How the hell did he know? Ji Xingci had just gotten his composure back, and now heat flooded his body again. He was about to snap when Lin Wu added,
“Then… can I see you again after this?”
Ji Xingci’s head snapped up.
Lin Wu hung his head, looking utterly dejected, his eyes red-rimmed once more. His wet hair made him resemble a drowned little dog.
Was he seriously about to cry just because he might not see him anymore?
Ji Xingci stared, a sneaky thrill bubbling up inside him for no damn reason.
He stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Lin Wu’s forehead.
“And whose fault is that?”
Lin Wu blinked, his eyes turning even redder. “It’s… it’s mine. I should’ve held out.”
“So you wanted to hold out for me?”
Lin Wu swiped at his eyes, but the red at their corners peeked through. “Yeah.”
“But you’re right. I don’t have what it takes… and I still tried to play the hero.”
“…”
Push Xu Qing aside and take the hit for him?
Ji Xingci wasn’t sure he followed, but Lin Wu’s tears were spilling now—he had to be heartbroken. Yeah, he’d wanted to save him.
A strange ease settled in Ji Xingci’s chest.
“I don’t need saving from you… Enough with the waterworks.” He eyed Lin Wu’s lips, then dropped his gaze.
“Tell me what you want. I’ll put in a word with the director.”
Lin Wu froze. Then he hugged him again.
“I… I can hold you like this. Camera’s over there.”
The street was deserted at this hour—just the two of them, locked in an embrace.
Lin Wu tilted his face up, tears shimmering in his eyes as he slowly leaned in and kissed him.
“And I can kiss you like this…”
No cameras anywhere nearby, and yet their lips met.
Lin Wu’s cheek pressed warm against his, his nose tip cool, his eyes still reddened.
But his lips burned hot.
He kissed with exquisite care, like some lovestruck kid on his first go.
Ji Xingci’s eyes narrowed. For a hazy moment, he could’ve sworn he heard his heartbeat thundering, tiny sparks racing through him. Was it his arrival? Or had the night given Lin Wu the wrong idea?
Unlike on the film set, Lin Wu slipped his tongue past his lips.
Ji Xingci’s pupils dilated. Somehow, he didn’t mind the intrusion—hell, it sent goosebumps exploding across his skin in the best way.
He stayed put, so Lin Wu kept going.
Until Ji Xingci found himself backed up against the car.
For an instant, his hand brushed Lin Wu’s damp shirt—and beneath it, the young man’s cool, pale skin. A wild urge hit him: get Lin Wu in the car with him.
But Ji Xingci’s eyes flew open. He took in Lin Wu’s face properly.
The birthmark.
Memories crashed in: Lin Wu tangled up with someone in the living room. That woman blocking him at the bar.
He shoved Lin Wu away hard.
“What the hell are you doing?”
What the hell was he doing?
Lin Wu was ugly as sin, filthy—and he kissed like a pro!
God knows how many guys he’d been with.
He… he’d never even…
“Who asked for your extras? You think I came here to make out?”
He stormed back into the car, wiped his mouth with exaggerated flair, and peeled out.
The sleek sports car roared off down the rundown street.
Lin Wu stood there looking shell-shocked, but he let out a quiet breath of relief.
He hurried back the way he’d come and vaulted through the window into the bathroom.
Xu Qing had been knocking for a while now.
“05? You okay in there?”
Had he passed out in the shower? Xu Qing was on the verge of tears, scrambling for a spare key.
Lin Wu flung open the bathroom door.
“Bro?”
He’d barely stripped off his shirt in time. The exertion had left him a little breathless, cheeks faintly flushed.
“Sorry, the water was running loud. I didn’t hear you…”
Xu Qing blinked, then flushed bright red.
“Oh. Oh, right.”
Lin Wu’s face was inches from his.
Lin Wu: “You need the bathroom?”
“N-No…”
“I’ll be quick.”
Once Lin Wu shut the door again, Xu Qing’s face stayed scorching.
Suddenly, it clicked what Lin Wu must’ve been up to in there.
Why’d he have to barge in? Xu Qing buried his face in his hands. Geez.