A few days later, Ji Xingci’s previous ancient costume idol drama wrapped up production.
He finally had a chance to rest, but he was summoned to the company first thing in the morning—his manager had gotten hold of a fantastic song and wanted him to come listen.
They needed to lock it down quickly and release it as a single.
Ji Xingci was decent at singing and had put out albums before, but acting was his true passion. Naturally, he wasn’t all that interested.
He just couldn’t understand why his manager was acting like he’d unearthed some priceless treasure, blowing up his phone with call after call, insisting he come over. It was as if he’d be missing out on the deal of a lifetime by not singing it.
In the end, Ji Xingci went anyway, his face twisted in a scowl.
When he stepped out of the car, he had on a casual high-neck jacket that hid his chin. He was still in shorts below, dark circles hanging under his eyes.
He radiated fresh-out-of-bed grumpiness from head to toe (even though it was already noon).
No one dared share the elevator with him.
Anyone could tell Ji Xingci had been in a foul mood lately.
A makeup artist had once asked if he’d been up all night and wasn’t sleeping well.
But Ji Xingci’s face had soured so badly at the question that the makeup artist nearly bit their own tongue in regret.
After that, no one dared ask.
Even after settling into the recording studio, Ji Xingci’s scowl hadn’t budged.
But when the demo’s melody kicked in, his expression eased a little.
The song was good.
No wonder his manager…
Wait, something was off.
After the melody faded, a clear, gentle male voice rang out.
The voice was pleasant, sure—but wasn’t it a little familiar?
Ji Xingci’s music team was there in the studio too. As industry veterans, they could spot the masterful touches right away and found the song nothing short of brilliant.
The moment it ended, the room erupted in praise.
The manager beamed with pride.
“Let me introduce the composer to everyone.”
Ji Xingci suddenly had a bad feeling and looked up.
The man who stepped in from behind the door was none other than Lin Wu.
The young man had actually dressed up for once, in a button-down shirt paired with straight suit pants that made his legs look even longer.
The shirt’s top button was undone, sleeves rolled up—a perfect blend of polish and casual ease.
There wasn’t a trace of that down-and-out drunk about him.
Everyone was stunned that the composer was so young. And with such striking looks too—their admiration only grew.
Just as the mood hit its peak…
“I refuse.”
Ji Xingci shot to his feet, his face darkening.
“Huh?”
Surprise rippled through the room.
Hadn’t Ji Xingci been nodding along while listening? He seemed to like it.
But his stance was ironclad. He shoved open the door to leave.
“Wait—hold on!”
The manager told Lin Wu to hang tight and hurried after Ji Xingci.
Lin Wu stayed in the studio, but he could see the two talking in the hallway through the window.
The manager was eager to buy the song.
Sure, Lin Wu had apparently crossed some media company that threatened to blacklist him. But with talent like this, the manager couldn’t care less about a small fry like that.
Even so, it was obvious this whole company belonged to Ji Xingci. No matter how much the manager begged…
Ji Xingci flat-out refused to sing it and wouldn’t let anyone else buy the rights. Everyone had no choice but to fall in line.
In the end, the manager slunk back, head hung low, and regretfully informed Lin Wu that the deal was off.
Lin Wu nodded, then deliberately glanced out the window.
This time, his eyes met Ji Xingci’s.
Ji Xingci saw Lin Wu standing there, shoulders slumped, utterly pinned down and dejected—like a stray dog without a home.
He must have been kicking himself for ever crossing him.
That malicious thrill felt damn good.
The pleasure hit its absolute peak when he spotted Lin Wu lurking in the parking lot.
The young man was huddled in a dim corner, curled into a ball. His sleeves had fallen down, half-covering his hands—no sign left of his earlier swagger.
He looked more like a homeless mutt than ever.
Ji Xingci didn’t even realize he was smirking as he strode right over.
Lin Wu looked up, saw him coming for real, and stood with a tense expression, eyes heavy.
Ji Xingci let out a scoff, tilting his chin up as he took the initiative.
“What is it? Here to apologize again?”
Lin Wu’s lips pressed thin, a flicker of humiliation in his eyes.
“Mm.”
Ji Xingci’s mood soared.
He stepped closer, forcing Lin Wu back half a pace until his back hit the wall.
“But I told you, I don’t want to see you.”
“If you’re really sorry, you should’ve sent Xu Qing to find me.”
The light in Lin Wu’s eyes flickered harder.
“What exactly do you want him to do? Be your private chef for real?”
Ji Xingci snapped irritably, “None of your business.”
“Can’t I do it?”
“What?”
Ji Xingci had started to turn away, but those words stopped him cold.
He whipped back around and suddenly realized just how close they were.
He could even make out Lin Wu’s eyelashes as he looked up, the movement of his lips as he spoke.
“What you want him to do… can’t I do it?”
Ji Xingci froze for a second, then exploded.
“Who the hell wants you?!”
He yelled until his face flushed red.
“Who do you think you are? Some kind of hero?”
“Doing anything to protect him, without even asking if I’d want that? Say that disgusting shit again, and I’ll beat you.”
The assistant waiting by the car jumped in shock, baffled at why Ji Xingci had blown up like that.
He’d seen Ji Xingci march straight over to the guy and figured they knew each other, so he hadn’t interrupted.
Were they about to fight now?
But before the assistant could step in, Ji Xingci stormed off after just a couple shouts, slamming the car door behind him.
Noticing the assistant staring, Ji Xingci barked, “Drive!”
The driver hit the gas.
Lin Wu stood frozen in place, watching the car peel away.
Once it vanished from the basement, every trace of expression drained from Lin Wu’s face, leaving it blank.
This was getting tricky.
He glanced down at his palm.
The “soil” had been planted, sure.
But with such scant contact, how long until he could sow the “seed”?
He needed to see him every day.
The upside of his mission target being a big star? Ji Xingci’s schedule was all over the internet.
Lin Wu smoothly pulled out his phone.
Ji Xingci was still fuming in the car.
The reason for his anger wasn’t entirely due to Lin Wu’s suggestion. Rather, it was… a dream he’d once had about Lin Wu.
In the dream, it was during a drinking session—Lin Wu’s eyes looked so wretched, his face flushed bright red, and his mouth stretched wide around something other than a glass. Ji Xingci had dreamed of the man clutching his leg, taking something else entirely into his mouth.
When he woke up, Ji Xingci was panting, full of annoyance and disgust. And yet… he couldn’t move.
Ji Xingci couldn’t believe his own body’s reaction. He was furious.
The low mood lingered for several days before he finally figured it out.
It was all Lin Wu’s fault!
Xu Qing had clearly agreed to it before, only to suddenly refuse later. He wouldn’t even reply to his messages.
It was obvious Lin Wu had meddled in the middle of it.
His condition couldn’t ease because of this guy. That was why he’d dreamed about him.
It had nothing to do with any other reason.
No problem. He’d punished him today, so Lin Wu definitely wouldn’t dare oppose him anymore.
And he still had plenty of ways to get Xu Qing to come see him.
With that thought, Ji Xingci let out a breath and finally felt a bit more at ease.
But once he got home, he felt exhausted again. These past few days… it was like he had a low-grade fever.
He yanked off his windbreaker, kicked off his shoes, returned to the bedroom, collapsed onto the bed, and fell asleep once more.
~~~
One week later,
Xu Qing’s restaurant suddenly received another order for boxed lunches from a drama crew.
The boss even specified that Xu Qing had to deliver them personally. Xu Qing didn’t think much of it at first and casually brought Lin Wu along when he headed out.
Only upon arrival did he realize this was the crew for Ji Xingci’s new movie.
The production clearly hadn’t started filming yet. Scattered staff members were busy setting up backgrounds.
The confirmed actors were trying on makeup.
At the same time, plenty of others had shown up for the second and third rounds of auditions.
That was why the director, screenwriter, and others were all present.
Lin Wu spotted Ji Xingci the moment he walked in.
Today, he was dressed in very ordinary casual clothes. But whether it was his height or his looks, he stood out sharply. No matter who glanced over, he’d be the first one they noticed.
Ji Xingci saw Lin Wu too, and his brows furrowed in obvious displeasure.
Just as the two locked eyes,
Xu Qing was pulled aside by a staff member instead. They said the director wanted him to try out for a role. Xu Qing was puzzled and politely refused the director’s invitation, but they insisted, leaving him flustered and scrambling.
Lin Wu turned his gaze back to Ji Xingci.
It was obvious whose idea this was.
Ji Xingci stood up. He shoved his hands in his pockets and deliberately positioned himself in front of Lin Wu, blocking him from going any farther inside.
“You can leave now.”
Lin Wu looked at him but said nothing.
Ji Xingci’s brows knitted tighter.
“I told you to get lost. Didn’t you hear me?”
“Ji Xingci.”
The director suddenly hurried over and clapped Lin Wu on the shoulder with a beaming smile.
“He’s here to audition too.”
Ji Xingci froze.
“What…?”
“I told you a few days ago—I found an incredibly talented newcomer through the open auditions to play Jiang Fan! It’s him. You two just haven’t done any chemistry reads yet.”
Ji Xingci’s mind buzzed.
This was an indie art film. The character he starred as, Xing He, was a promising young director hailed as a genius in the industry and pursued by a female lead.
He seemed to have it all, but in truth, he bore the weight of his family’s rigid expectations for male success. The pressure of prepping his new movie was immense.
That was when he encountered a gloomy, pathetic dropout with a terminal illness—a total nobody.
Despite their vast class divide, the two ignited like lightning and flint, spiraling into an uncontrollable passion that ended with their affair exposed, nearly destroying their lives.
The role he’d asked Xu Qing to try for was just a minor flashback classmate—the one who first made Xing He question his sexuality back in his youth.
But Jiang Fan was the underground lover he’d have to act out endless intimate scenes with throughout the entire film!
Ji Xingci took a deep breath. “You’re joking.”
And wasn’t Lin Wu just a resident singer at a bar?
How could he possibly write songs too, and act?
At a level that made industry pros light up with praise?
It was ridiculous. Was he some kind of entertainment industry prodigy or what??