Chapter 7: Arrogant Big Star

This wasn’t quite like the original script, yet the director froze and didn’t call cut.

He had genuinely assumed this was a scene where Ji Xingci wouldn’t need to do a thing.

But then he suddenly realized

he was wrong!

Even without any lines, an actor could convey the necessary emotions through the minutest details of body language and the rhythm of their breathing.

This subtle shift made it increasingly ambiguous whether Xing He was truly asleep in that moment, drawing Jiang Fan—and even the audience—into a tantalizing pull of conflicting emotions.

How had he never considered this angle!

It was a performance of sheer brilliance.

Ji Xingci had no clue what wild fantasies the director was cooking up in his head. He just wanted to curse a blue streak.

Why did it have to react the moment Lin Wu got close?

Thanks to the special protective gear, it wasn’t blatantly obvious, but at the same time…

It hurt like hell.

Ji Xingci had never dreamed he’d one day need every ounce of self-control just to fake sleep…

Nobody wanted to make a fool of themselves on set.

But Lin Wu inched closer and closer. Ji Xingci could even feel the man’s hair brushing his cheek, his breath hot and right there.

Then Lin Wu slowly leaned in and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Ji Xingci’s fingers twitched. He gripped the edge of the lounge chair without thinking.

To simulate the kiss, Lin Wu stayed glued to his face, his breath ghosting softly over him, his lips teasing the outline of Ji Xingci’s own with featherlight touches.

Ji Xingci’s ears burned scarlet.

He was dying. It hurt so damn much!

But the pain did nothing to tamp it down.

What the hell was happening?

Ji Xingci’s breathing fell into disarray, his limbs going rigid as boards.

He was wearing the protective gear—it was supposed to block out all sensation—but somehow…

He swore he could feel the warmth radiating from Lin Wu’s palm.

Hidden from the camera, Lin Wu cracked his eyes open. Those deep, dark eyes fixed silently on him.

He couldn’t hold out.

Ji Xingci fought desperately to keep his expression neutral, but inwardly, he felt himself sinking into a pitch-black mire. He didn’t dare open his eyes. He didn’t dare move. All he could do was writhe under the torment of pain and frustrated need, plunging deeper with every second.

Until Lin Wu suddenly bore down harder.

“Ah!” Sweat pouring off him, Ji Xingci shoved the man away with a savage push.

“Cut.”

“Ji Xingci?” The director’s voice held a note of bewilderment.

Before anyone could get another word out, Ji Xingci stormed off the set, face flaming red, and barreled straight into his rest room.

He faintly caught snippets of chatter behind him. “Is he feeling okay?”

But he had no bandwidth for it. The instant he was inside,

he dropped to his knees on the floor, fumbling with shaking hands to tear off the protective gear.

What should have been a simple task felt impossibly arduous now.

Halfway through, Ji Xingci was already soaked in sweat.

Maybe it was the hyperventilating—his vision blurred, darkness flickering in and out.

Then, with a click, the overhead light went dark.

Ji Xingci whipped his head around to look, only to see a hand shoot out of nowhere and slam his head to the ground.

??

He tried to fight back at once, but… he couldn’t budge! His head stayed pinned under the intruder’s iron grip.

Ji Xingci’s pupils contracted in shock. Impossible.

He had always occupied the heights of privilege, with an arrogant streak to match and top-tier physical conditioning. No one had ever dared handle him like this. No one could have subdued him so effortlessly.

Head mashed to the floor, he couldn’t even glimpse his attacker.

Rage surged through Ji Xingci, veins bulging on his neck like a cornered beast refusing to yield. Not until…

the protective gear finally came loose.

His eyes flew wide, then heat flooded his face.

“Let go of me! You…”

Every muscle in his body went taut as he strained with all his might, but he still couldn’t move. His voice trailed off,

his gaze starting to unfocus.

Someone had picked up right where the scene had left off—doing what he couldn’t during filming.

Ji Xingci was powerless to resist.

He had never felt anything like this.

Even when the figure behind him pressed in too close, grazing his ear, all he managed was a muffled grunt of displeasure.

He simply couldn’t fight it.

For a second or two, he didn’t care that his face was ground into the floor, his forehead throbbing from the impact, or that the position was utterly degrading.

Everything else faded into irrelevance.

Just a little more…

Ji Xingci’s brows knit tight. A low, catlike rumble nearly escaped his throat.

But then the hands behind him halted.

In his bewilderment…

the next instant, his eyes snapped open wide.

Where the hell did that touch come from?!

Fury exploded through Ji Xingci. He lashed out with a wild swing.

Right then, a thunderous bang echoed from his rest room.

The people outside jolted. His assistant flung open the door in a panic and found Ji Xingci sprawled unconscious on the floor.

Chaos engulfed the crew.

Two hours later.

When Ji Xingci’s eyes fluttered open again, he was tucked into bed in a spotless rest room, an ice towel draped across his forehead.

“Young Master, you’re awake.”

His collapse had sent ripples far and wide. The family butlers and doctors had rushed over, hovering around him like a swarm.

Ji Xingci said nothing. Instead, he bolted upright, sending the towel tumbling to the floor.

“Young Master?”

Face dark as a thundercloud, Ji Xingci shoved past the crowd and marched out, heading straight back to the film crew shed.

He scanned left and right as he went. In short order, he spotted Lin Wu in a quiet corner of the crew area, perched on a folding stool and poring over his script with intense focus.

A pair of long legs loomed suddenly in his view.

Lin Wu glanced up, puzzled, only to be hauled to his feet by Ji Xingci grabbing his collar—looking every bit the picture of innocence.

“Was it you!” Ji Xingci snarled.

“What?” Lin Wu blinked.

“I asked if it was you earlier! You…”

Ji Xingci choked on the words, his face turning beet red. He couldn’t force them out.

“What the hell are you doing!”

Xu Qing came rushing up.

“Let him go.”

Ji Xingci only grew more incensed, giving Lin Wu a rough shake by the collar. “Still playing innocent!”

Xu Qing couldn’t watch. “He didn’t do a damn thing! He’s been right here with me and the director since you wrapped the scene, reading his script.”

Ji Xingci faltered. “You’ve been out here the whole time?”

Lin Wu nodded.

“Impossible…”

So who the hell had slipped into his rest room?

Ji Xingci grilled more crew members on instinct—even his own assistant—but their stories matched Xu Qing’s to a T.

When he’d headed to the rest room, Lin Wu had still been onstage, then gone straight down to talk with the director.

With all those eyes on the crew outside, there was no way Lin Wu could have tailed him inside unnoticed.

For a fleeting moment, Ji Xingci found himself adrift in confusion. He even second-guessed his own memory.

He reached up and touched his forehead. No trace of any bump.

“Ji Xingci…”

Ji Xingci whipped around suddenly, only to realize he was still clutching Lin Wu’s clothes. The young man, ever the picture of patience, had no choice but to trail after him.

“Can you let go of me now?”

Ji Xingci froze for a moment, then quickly released him and took a step back.

An actor collapsing like that had given the director quite the fright—especially when that actor was Ji Xingci.

The mere thought of the Ji family put the director under immense pressure, so he kept urging Ji Xingci to head back and get some rest.

Ji Xingci had no desire to linger on the film set anyway.

But once he got home, he couldn’t stop replaying the moments before he’d passed out.

At first, it was pure rage fueling his thoughts. He racked his brain trying to figure out who could have done it, vowing to drag the culprit out into the open and make them regret ever being born.

But soon, Ji Xingci’s cheeks flushed red as he felt his body betraying him once more.

After all, he’d come so close to success that time, but in the end, he hadn’t quite made it.

Having tasted just a hint of that sweetness, his condition seemed to have worsened.

Before bed, he writhed against the sheets, giving it another try. The result was the same as always.

A total failure!

Ji Xingci was livid.

Why had it felt so different on the film set?

During that damn scene, he’d barely managed to keep himself from losing control.

“Why!” Ji Xingci snarled, hurling his pillow across the room.

The next day, Lin Wu never saw it coming. He found himself cornered by Ji Xingci in a quiet spot on the film set.

The man towered over him in athletic wear, his face dark with irritation, though it did little to diminish his striking good looks.

Lin Wu blinked in surprise. Before he could get a word out, Ji Xingci seized him by the arm and hauled him into an empty storage room, slamming the door shut behind them.

“Was it really not you?”

Ji Xingci loomed closer.

Lin Wu looked utterly baffled. “Did something happen yesterday?”

There was even genuine concern in his voice.

Ji Xingci’s face heated up again, and anger surged through him.

“Take off your clothes.”

Lin Wu: “Huh?”

“I said, take off your clothes!”

Lin Wu flushed crimson and stood frozen. Growing impatient, Ji Xingci stepped forward and yanked at his shirt himself.

Lin Wu’s forehead had been fine yesterday—maybe he just had tough skin that didn’t bruise easily.

But during the struggle, Ji Xingci had dug his fingers hard into the other’s arm. He might have even scratched him.

A guy who marked up this easily couldn’t possibly be spotless. One glance would tell.

“Ji Xingci, what are you doing…?”

Lin Wu offered half-hearted resistance, his protest barely above a whisper.

Ji Xingci paid no mind, single-mindedly tugging at the fabric to inspect his upper body.

The storage room was dimly lit, and with Lin Wu squirming around, it was hard to make anything out clearly.

“Don’t move!” Just as Ji Xingci pinned him down with force.

The door swung open again.

“Ji Xingci, what the hell are you doing!”

Xu Qing burst in, eyes wide with horror.

Ji Xingci looked up and noticed how red Lin Wu’s face had gotten.

Xu Qing’s expression turned oddly knowing.

Oh. This position did look pretty compromising.

“It’s not—”

Before Ji Xingci could explain, Xu Qing rushed over, yanked Lin Wu behind him, and shoved him out the door.

“You—you stay back!”

Ji Xingci stood there, dumbfounded.

What? Was Xu Qing seriously guarding Lin Wu from him like that?

As if he would!

He wouldn’t give Lin Wu the time of day!

When Ji Xingci finally stepped out, he saw a crowd had gathered outside the storage room.

The director was there too, eyeing him with a complicated look. Later, he pulled Ji Xingci aside for a talk.

“I know you’re dead set on nailing this movie.”

“But even when you’re deep in character as an actor, you’ve got to know where to draw the line…”

“…”

He hadn’t done anything! Ji Xingci nearly blew up.

Unfortunately, his attempts to explain fell on deaf ears. The director clearly didn’t buy it.

The one silver lining? Today, the director didn’t dare push them into any more intimate scenes.

They filmed all day, saving the final kiss for last.

Ji Xingci felt off-kilter and dodged it the first take. NG.

On the second try, Lin Wu lowered his gaze, channeling a touch more intensity. He suddenly gripped Ji Xingci’s chin and turned his face.

Ji Xingci didn’t have time to react before their lips met.

They only pressed together, but to sell the fake French kiss, Lin Wu flicked his tongue tip out just a little.

Out of sight under the table and away from the camera, Ji Xingci’s fist clenched so tight he nearly splintered the wood.

The director watched the monitor intently, grinning with satisfaction.

Ji Xingci hadn’t budged, but his neck had gone completely red.

The outdoor setting made their kiss feel restrained yet passionate, a reluctant parting full of tension.

It was the last scene of the day. Once the director called cut, Ji Xingci said nothing for once and bolted.

Something was wrong with him again.