Zhu Huai took a sip of the ginger soup Jiang Sheli had sent. From head to toe, from his left atrium to his right atrium, even his palms were warm and cozy. He squinted in contentment.
Why? Just why?
What had he done to deserve such care from Movie Emperor Jiang, someone he’d only had a handful of fleeting contacts with?
Setting aside the encounter two years ago that Jiang Sheli didn’t even remember, this was the first time the two of them had truly dealt with each other. Though they’d crossed paths at various banquets and award ceremonies, their fields were completely different. They’d had no interaction whatsoever—not a single shared stage, let alone any real contact! The only thing that barely counted as contact between them was the great Jiang-Zhu fan war.
Just as Zhu Huai was racking his brain for an explanation, a bolt of lightning struck his mind. A bold idea came to him—
Could it be that, in some corner he didn’t know about, Movie Emperor Jiang had actually been nursing a secret crush on him for years? And the timeline and catalyst were none other than the fan war!
Movie Emperor Jiang learned of his existence. Curiosity made him investigate. And he was deeply captivated by what he found. After all, two years ago, Zhu Huai was shining on stage, known as the Little Prince of Charm. Look at that “Man the Entertainment Industry Most Wants to Sleep With” poll: Jiang Sheli beat him by over a million votes, but he also beat third place by over half a million! Wasn’t that proof enough?!
Maybe on long, dark nights, the movie emperor watched his performance videos and howled “Hubby!” at the screen. Not impossible!
Connecting it to all the care the movie emperor had shown him on set—sending ginger soup for fear he’d catch cold, arranging a makeup artist the moment he had none, attentive in every aspect, considerate in all matters—who in their right mind would be this solicitous to a stranger??
But if all of it was based on the premise that Jiang Sheli liked him, everything that seemed off made complete sense!
Zhu·Sherlock Holmes·Huai was dazzled by this sudden, overwhelming affection. His heart surged, his face flushed, his ears burned, his thoughts scattered. Just as he was speeding his mental Ferrari toward the edge of the city, Little Nan snatched the steering wheel and swerved him into the police station—
“Brother!” Little Nan gave a good shout. Seeing Zhu Huai’s strange expression and knowing him as well as she did, she guessed he was having one of his episodes again. She said, with exasperation, “What wild nonsense are you daydreaming about now?”
Zhu Huai snapped back to reality, his gaze passing through possessed, to confused, to clear. The corners of his eyes had reddened slightly from his freakish flight of fancy, giving him an oddly bewitching look.
Shame kicked in. His face grew even redder. He said hoarsely, “I was just… thinking for fun.”
Little Nan felt exhausted.
Zhu Huai was actually a very well-behaved youth. It was just that when he was being shameless, he was like a madman, especially prone to sinking into his own fantasies. He’d sit there in a daze as if he’d achieved transcendental ascension, only his ever-changing expression proving he was still alive.
“Brother.” Little Nan looked at him suspiciously. “What kind of outrageous thing were you thinking about just now?”
Zhu Huai lowered his head and sipped the ginger soup, inexplicably tasting a hint of sweetness. He mumbled, “Nothing.”
Little Nan’s old-mother heart was about to worry itself white. She glanced at Little Yuan, who sat as still as an old monk in meditation, and warned him, “Keep yourself in check out there!”
“Mm.” Zhu Huai slowly finished the ginger soup in the thermos, the last of the chill in his body driven away.
He stared at the thermos for a moment, took a picture, and posted it on Weibo.
Then he got up, went out, washed the thermos clean, and happened to run into Li Yun on the way back to the green room. He returned it to him.
“I’ve already washed it. Thank you for taking the trouble, Brother Li. Please thank Brother Jiang for me.”
Li Yun glanced at the water droplets clinging to the thermos flask. “Sheli has strict standards for filming. Take care of yourself. Don’t get sick and delay the shooting schedule.”
Zhu Huai smiled slightly, eyes glinting. “Okay.”
Li Yun said, “I still have to deliver heat patches to Liu Qi and the female lead. I’m off.”
“Heat patches?”
“Sheli said the weather is still cold. Don’t let everyone catch a chill.”
Zhu Huai froze at the words. Seeing the bag in Li Yun’s hand, the warm feeling in his chest slowly cooled. He stepped aside. “You’re busy.”
Back in the green room, Little Yuan and Little Nan were gone—who knew where.
Zhu Huai sat back down in the rest chair, thoroughly calm now.
After a long moment, he buried his face in his palms, cursing himself for being presumptuous.
Jiang Sheli was caring to everyone in the crew.
It took him a while to recover. He wiped his face, took out his phone, and opened his favorite game, 《Sword Shadow: Martial World (Mobile Game)》, planning to distract himself.
The game had been out for nearly two years, an adaptation of the PC client game. Thanks to its fair PvP and strong playability, its popularity had always been high. Zhu Huai had played it since launch. During his hardest times, he vented in the game; it was half a spiritual anchor for him. Back when the mobile game was recruiting a spokesperson, he’d tried out too, but his reputation was at rock bottom then, so of course he couldn’t get it. The endorsement had gone to Meng Xingyu.
Zhu Huai entered the game, planning to blow off steam in the arena, and casually queued for 3v3.
This game was quite interesting: every sect had two mental skills. For example, Zhu Huai played Hundred Flowers Valley, which had one healing mental skill and one ranged DPS mental skill. The two mental skills could be freely switched whenever not in combat. That was one of its attractions for players.
The matchmaking result came quickly.
Zhu Huai’s Hundred Flowers Valley could heal or DPS. He’d queued with the healing mental skill and matched with two DPS: a melee Beggars Sect and another Hundred Flowers Valley. Both had mediocre gear—the Hundred Flowers Valley’s weapon was even a blue weapon.
Zhu Huai also checked the enemy’s info: melee Kunlun, healing Putuo, ranged longsword.
He examined their equipment and frowned.
“Holy sht!” The Beggars Sect opened party voice chat, shouting in shock. “Three orange weapons on the other side? A whale squad? What kind of luck is this?!”
The DPS Hundred Flowers Valley opened voice too. A somewhat sweet female voice came through, nearly in tears: “Ah! I’m one win away from rising to Tier 10 and exchanging for a weapon! I’ve been going up and down for three days! Waaah!”
Zhu Huai put on his earphones and opened his mic. “Miss, can you switch to healing? I’ll switch to DPS.”
The Hundred Flowers girl sounded hesitant. “…I can switch, but my healing gear is only blue.”
Zhu Huai switched his mental skill to DPS as he spoke. “It’s fine, switch. Use all your survival skills on yourself. Don’t worry about me or the Beggars. Last twenty seconds and we have a chance to win.”
A sharp intake of breath came through the earphones. The Beggars said, “Brother, you’re pretty cocky!”
Zhu Huai didn’t answer. He was checking the enemy’s records and found that except for the longsword, the Kunlun and Putuo had more losses than wins. They’d probably ground their way to this tier purely on the strength of orange weapons.
In the PC client game 《Sword Shadow: Martial World》, orange weapons only dropped from ultimate dungeon bosses or world bosses—pure luck.
In the mobile game, orange weapons were more absurd: after a cumulative recharge of one hundred thousand, every 688 top-up gave a premium lottery ticket with a certain chance of awarding the main material for crafting orange weapons. Pure money.
In the PC game, an orange weapon player wasn’t necessarily rich, but they were definitely blessed by the RNG gods.
In the mobile game, an orange weapon player wasn’t just rich—they had to be blessed by the RNG gods too!
The Beggars, undeterred by the silence, said sourly, “It’s fine, it’s fine. This game comes down to skill. If you’re a handicap, no matter how good your orange weapon is, you’re just a rich handicap!”
Zhu Huai chuckled and directed, “In a moment, the Beggars and I will charge the Kunlun directly. Their longsword will definitely come for our healer first. Girl, watch your positioning. Don’t step into his attack range.”
The girl’s ears tingled from that light chuckle. Her voice unconsciously softened as she shyly agreed. “O-Okay.”
The thirty-second countdown ended. The three enemies charged straight over. Zhu Huai directed his teammates to spread out, then, without another word, charged head-on at the Kunlun, punishing him with skills at the edge of the attack range. The Beggars harassed their healer on the side, keeping him too busy to top up his teammates. The two killed the Kunlun quickly.
“Focus the enemy healer!” Zhu Huai gave the order crisply. He threw a root at the Putuo, waited for them to waste a cleanse, then immediately commanded, “Beggars, pop your ultimate!”
“Oh no!” The Hundred Flowers girl shrieked in panic and wailed, “Sorry, I’m dead!”
Zhu Huai glanced at his healer’s grayed-out health bar. Ten seconds. He frowned and comforted, “They have orange weapons. Holding out that long is already impressive!”
The Hundred Flowers girl’s breathing quickened. After a long moment, she spoke in a sweet, soft voice. “Then, handsome guy, can we win?”
The moment she finished, the enemy Putuo’s health hit zero. But their Beggars was also killed by the longsword, who had returned.
Enemy: longsword left. Our side: Zhu Huai left.
1v1.
And the enemy had an orange weapon.
Zhu Huai’s heart sank slightly.
He maneuvered his character in serpentine positioning, dodging several longsword skills while occasionally landing accurate basic attacks on the enemy. With sharp technique alone, he ground down a third of the opponent’s health.
The longsword was a high-burst class to begin with, boosted further by the orange weapon. Zhu Huai knew that if he got hit even once, his health bar wouldn’t survive.
The enemy longsword clearly had far better game sense than their healer and Kunlun. After Zhu Huai dodged another skill, they suddenly activated a speed boost, sharply closing the distance with Zhu Huai’s Hundred Flowers—face to face. They chose to fight melee!
Zhu Huai was startled, but his reaction was lightning-quick. He tossed a damage-over-time skill at the enemy, then immediately backed up to create distance.
But it wasn’t enough. The orange weapon’s attack range was longer than normal weapons. Backing off wasn’t enough to escape to safety. He took a hit, and his health bar plummeted by half.
“Go, handsome guy!” The healer on his team forgot all about being coy, shrieking at the top of her lungs.
Zhu Huai had already figured out the orange weapon’s attack range. If he wanted to attack the enemy, he’d have to step into the longsword’s range first. Too dangerous.
The only option was a head-on fight!
Zhu Huai narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. He used his speed boost to get face-to-face with the longsword while his left hand slid the joystick rapidly, circling around behind the enemy. Before they could react, he dropped his ultimate. The longsword’s health hit zero!
Zhu Huai’s heart pounded wildly. Did he win?!
Suddenly, his pupils constricted sharply—
The longsword’s orange weapon triggered its special effect, “Death Immunity Token.” The longsword didn’t die!!!
“Holy sht!!!” The spectating Beggars wailed in anguish. “Orange weapons are a bug! A BUG!!!”
The longsword had already turned and used a skill. At the same time, Zhu Huai immediately maneuvered his character to deliver the killing blow—
Everything happened in an instant!
When a large “DEFEAT” appeared in the center of the screen, Zhu Huai froze, then laughed out loud, feeling great.
It had been a long time since he’d had such an exciting arena match.
“Li River.” Zhu Huai murmured the ID and sent a friend request to the longsword.
System: 【Sorry dear, cross-server friends aren’t supported at the moment~】
–
Jiang Sheli finished his last scene of the afternoon and was sitting in his private green room, playing on his phone.
Li Yun walked in from outside, carrying a thermos flask. Jiang Sheli glanced up at it with half-lidded eyes. “Finished it?”
Li Yun shook the now-empty flask. “Not a drop left. Washed clean too. He asked me to thank you for him.”
“Mm.” Jiang Sheli’s eyes never left his phone as he queued for the arena in-game, responding casually.
Li Yun had a belly full of things to say. His mouth opened and closed, opened and closed, until finally he couldn’t hold it in. “Aren’t you being a little too attentive to Zhu Huai?”
The game had already entered the arena. Jiang Sheli glanced at the enemy’s info: the healer had switched from DPS, gear too poor—an instant kill. The other two were average. His own side had three orange weapons. A stomp.
He countered, “Too attentive?”
“Bro, aren’t you?!?!” Li Yun was frantic, counting off on his fingers. “Supporting him on set, sending ginger soup, sending a makeup artist—fine. But even his role came from you! That fool still thinks he got in on his own! Why doesn’t he think about it—with his awful acting and his status, how could he get into Shen Peiping’s crew? And land the heavenly opportunity of acting opposite you! You know Meng Xingyu, right? A red-hot second-tier star who lowered his own price for the role of Late Return, willing to act for zero pay! And you, for Zhu Huai, brushed him aside with one casual sentence!”
Jiang Sheli said idly, “Meng Xingyu won’t do. I’ve seen his acting—he’s like a dead fish. He even needs to read the teleprompter for his lines. And he can’t endure hardship. If he joined this crew, Old Man Shen would get so mad he’d have a stroke.”
Before Li Yun could speak, Jiang Sheli added, “Besides, why are you saving Old Man Shen’s money? Did you two get together?”
“Get—!” Li Yun’s blood rushed to his head, his eyes rolling white. He barely saved his own life with desperate breathing, then a national curse slipped out involuntarily. “Get together my ass! Why are you attacking me personally?!”
Once he caught his breath, he advised earnestly, “Anyway, you’ve already gone above and beyond! In less than a day, the entire crew knows you treat Zhu Huai differently. If I hadn’t sent heat patches to everyone else in your name to muddy the waters, who knows what kind of gossip would be flying around about you two! I’m genuinely afraid that one day I’ll hear a rumor out of the media’s mouth like ‘Jiang Sheli lowers himself to guard his beloved’! The fan war back then wasn’t your fault. His fall was entirely his own doing. Don’t pile it all on yourself. Put away that strange saintly compassion of yours. Don’t give him the chance to get the wrong idea. You’ve already put the opportunity right in front of him; whether he can grasp it is his own business. Don’t get involved in anything else!”
Jiang Sheli didn’t respond, fully focused on the battle in his game.
Li Yun clicked his tongue and raised his voice to emphasize once more. “Are you listening?!”
A big “VICTORY” burst out in the center of the screen. The enemy’s ranged fighter had been unexpectedly tough—slick positioning, sharp technique, excellent prediction. It had been a brutal fight, barely won through equipment superiority. He made note of the opponent’s ID as he answered Li Yun. “Mm.”
Li Yun had said a mouthful, unsure how much Jiang Sheli had actually absorbed. But he thought that Jiang Sheli was hardly an impulsive young man, and had managed so many artists under him, having seen every kind of monster. He simply shut his mouth and turned to leave.
Jiang Sheli turned off his phone. Of course he understood the logic in Li Yun’s words. But his help for Zhu Huai was about more than just the fan war.
He and Zhu Huai had actually met two years ago. But Zhu Huai probably didn’t remember. Even if he did, he probably couldn’t recall what Jiang Sheli looked like.
After all, that night had been so dark that even the streetlights couldn’t illuminate the road.
The youth had huddled in a dark corner against a wall, wrapped in a tattered jacket, unable even to stand, like a fawn cornered into desperation. A pair of eyes, amid a face covered in blood, had burned frightfully bright. Those anxious, despairing, furious eyes had appeared in his dreams many times in the years since, churning up guilt that wouldn’t settle. If he had walked one more step with him back then, perhaps Zhu Huai’s circumstances would be different now.
But at the time, he had only reached out his hand, letting the youth grip it tightly, listening to him say, trembling yet resolute, “I want to call the police!”
