Chapter 65: The Method Actor

Ji Zhi had no idea how to judge it.

He and Chen Xingwen were far too familiar with each other, so he couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would feel like if they touched.

He tried hard to recall his time with Fu Huixu, but that period had been so tense that Ji Zhi hadn’t paid any attention to the sensation of the man’s touch…

Though Ji Zhi’s sexual orientation had changed, his romantic experience hadn’t.

Chen Xingwen’s hadn’t changed at all—neither his orientation nor his experience—so he could only offer Ji Zhi emotional support.

Unable to come up with anything, Ji Zhi wanted to give up.

Duan Zhao hadn’t asked, after all, so he could just avoid thinking too deeply, like before.

But no sooner had the thought crossed Ji Zhi’s mind than he remembered Duan Zhao seeming to murmur “I love you” last night.

At the time, he hadn’t been fully swept into the vortex of pleasure, so he’d caught some of what the man said. Duan Zhao hadn’t pressed the issue, though, so Ji Zhi could dodge it.

Yet when night fell once more and Duan Zhao’s presence enveloped him again, Ji Zhi realized just how hard self-deception truly was.

No longer the hazy murmurs of the previous night, but with every passing moment in the darkness, the words burned clearer and hotter against his eardrums—

“I love you…”

Sometimes they came out rushed, like an uncontrollable outburst; other times they were slow, laced with a tenderness that made his heart tremble, like the most solemn vow. Those three words had become an indispensable incantation in Duan Zhao’s intimate ritual, knocking relentlessly at the tightly shut door of Ji Zhi’s heart.

Ji Zhi heard them, but he always bit his lip instinctively—

He had no idea how to respond.

Say “I love you too”?

If Duan Zhao demanded an answer, he could lie smoothly to keep the deception going. But now, Duan Zhao didn’t need one.

Ji Zhi wanted to stay silent, but in this ultimate intimacy of skin pressed to skin and breaths mingling, silence itself felt like a cruel betrayal. He could sense that when Duan Zhao said it, the arms wrapped tightly around him held not just possessive desire, but something deeper—something he didn’t dare examine.

A week later, Duan Zhao had to go on a business trip.

Unlike before, though, Ji Zhi had just finished his exams and had a few days off, so Duan Zhao asked if he wanted to come along.

Part of it was Duan Zhao’s desire to keep Ji Zhi by his side constantly; the other part was his lingering wish to take Ji Zhi abroad together.

Ji Zhi usually liked to go out and play with Chen Xingwen after exams, but Chen Xingwen was interning now and couldn’t easily join him. After thinking it over, Ji Zhi agreed to Duan Zhao’s invitation.

Everything went smoothly. Duan Zhao’s business trip was to a northern city blending French elegance with Flemish charm.

Ji Zhi wasn’t much interested in architecture or history, though. His attention was drawn more to the chocolate shops on street corners, the waffle stands wafting rich aromas, and the pigeons frolicking in the plazas.

For the first couple of days, Duan Zhao was tied up with meetings, so a local assistant of his kept Ji Zhi company—a young woman named Sophia, warm and attentive, fluent in Chinese, French, and English. Some locals didn’t like speaking English, so she bridged the gap. Duan Zhao had mentioned she even had a gold medal in Sanda; she could double as a bodyguard in spots where his security detail couldn’t follow.

After more than two years of experience, Ji Zhi no longer got nervous or shy around girls like he used to. Still, Sophia’s face vaguely resembled a girl he’d liked as a kid, so he found himself paying her a bit more attention than usual. But he felt nothing inside. Fortunately, he’d accepted his new orientation, so he didn’t dwell on it.

With Sophia guiding him, Ji Zhi had a great time. He wandered ancient streets by day, sampling foods utterly unlike anything back home, and returned to the hotel at night, temporarily shoving aside the vexing thoughts about Duan Zhao.

Today, Sophia took him to a little tavern. Unlike trendy spots tweaked for mass appeal, this one’s drinks stayed true to local flavors. The place had a long history, but the elderly owner and his wife shunned marketing, so only locals like Sophia knew about it.

At her enthusiastic urging, Ji Zhi decided to check it out.

Just as she’d said, stepping inside hit him with a profound sense of age.

It was a weekday evening, so only one or two people were there. The owners sat at the front counter.

Sophia chatted easily with them in French. Ji Zhi couldn’t follow, but after she finished speaking, a glass of golden beer slid his way, topped with fine, pristine foam. Sophia winked at him and said in Chinese, “Give it a try. It’s the house special—you can’t get this outside.”

Ji Zhi took a sip as instructed. The expected bitterness was mild, replaced by a unique fruit fragrance and malty sweetness. The mouthfeel was rich and smooth, truly one-of-a-kind. He couldn’t help taking a big gulp.

Seeing he liked it, Sophia grinned and turned back to chat fluently with the owners, the mood relaxed. Ji Zhi sat quietly beside her, listening to the unfamiliar foreign tongue, soaking in the down-to-earth local vibe so different from five-star hotels and fancy restaurants. His spirits lifted.

As time passed, it must have hit quitting time, because a few more people trickled in. Some went straight to order, but others just grabbed a table to rest without rushing.

Ji Zhi recalled Sophia pointing out a sign by the door before they entered—it offered free resting space. These folks must have been taking advantage of that.

A few sips in, warmth spread through his body, his cheeks flushing slightly. His tolerance wasn’t great, and this beer’s kick seemed stronger than expected. After sitting about half an hour, he felt the urge to use the restroom and quietly asked Sophia where it was.

She pointed to a narrow hallway behind the bar. “End of the hall, then left.”

She’d clearly been here countless times and knew it well. “I can walk you there.”

Ji Zhi shook his head quickly—having a girl escort him to the bathroom would be too weird.

He headed down the hallway. The tavern’s lights were dim, the passage even darker, the wooden floor creaking faintly underfoot. It cut off the muffled laughter from Sophia outside, leaving an eerie quiet.

After relieving himself, he stood at the old sink, splashing cold water on his face to chase off some of the buzz, when the restroom door eased open. Another person stepped in.

Ji Zhi glanced instinctively in the mirror. The newcomer wore oversized sunglasses and a black mask covering most of his face, plus a baggy hoodie. Tall build. Ji Zhi didn’t think much of it at first—just another patron.

But the man didn’t head to the urinal or a stall. He stopped right behind Ji Zhi, blocking his way out. An inexplicable pressure hit instantly.

Ji Zhi turned off the faucet and pivoted, puzzled, about to ask in English what was up. Then he met the unabashed scrutiny from behind those shades.

Noticing the gaze on him, Ji Zhi finally focused on the man.

Staring at the familiar figure, Ji Zhi quickly realized who it might be and ventured, “Jiang…”

Before he could finish, the man yanked off his mask and sunglasses, his voice rising with excitement at the end. “Bro, it’s me…”

“You really still remember me…”

Ji Zhi was stunned himself—stunned to run into him here, and surprised that he still recognized Jiang Yaolin’s silhouette even masked up.

It had been over two years since they’d parted, with no contact since. Ji Zhi only caught glimpses of him on billboards and TV. But as Jiang Yaolin faded from the spotlight—intentionally or not—those sightings grew rare.

Ji Zhi wasn’t obsessed with entertainment news. Without seeking him out or clicking related articles, Jiang Yaolin had vanished from his world.

Thinking back now, though, the impact Jiang Yaolin had left wasn’t small, so remembering him made sense…

Jiang Yaolin’s features and aura hadn’t changed much; he looked just as Ji Zhi remembered. The gaze fixed on him seemed to reflect only Ji Zhi. “Bro, I’ve missed you so much.”

Hearing that, Ji Zhi’s heartstrings tightened. Their parting hadn’t been amicable—

When Jiang Yaolin had tried to take him away, he’d tricked the man and used the terrain to shake him off.

Jiang Yaolin kept talking. “I spotted you walking down the street earlier and recognized you at a glance.”

“You had someone with you, so I hung back, watching from a distance as you came into this tavern…”

If anyone else said it, the words might sound suspicious or creepy. But from Jiang Yaolin’s lips, paired with his expression, they strangely softened the unease.

That face, famous for captivating the masses on screen, showed no panic or malice at being caught stalking. Instead, it brimmed with the timid joy of something lost finally found—like a large stray dog reunited with its owner.

“Bro, don’t be mad…” His voice dropped, tinged with a faint sniffle. “I just… missed you too much. The moment I saw you, I couldn’t help myself and followed.”