“Why would someone sink into such a state of calmness for another person? Protective instincts are subconscious, uncontrollable impulses.

For those important to me… if there are many people, I’ll search for him in the crowd. If he’s very far away, I’ll urgently want to get closer to him. Even if he’s beside me, the more crowded, dark, or suffocating it is, the more I want to grab onto him. If it were him… if he were shot and fell to the ground, bleeding so much, all my thoughts would be on him. I would be incapable of thinking about anything else. So this rational, repressed form of protection—does that mean Lu Pingfeng has no humanity to begin with?”

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

Gu Xiaowei stared at the trash bin as if it contained another world.

Lu Yu took a deep breath. That important “him” in Gu Xiaowei’s words—did he exist in reality, or was he just a figment of Lu Pingfeng’s imagination?

Jealousy and envy surged in Luo Yu’s heart. But despite it all, Luo Yu wanted to protect Gu Xiaowei because only he understood Gu Xiaowei’s fragility.

“This isn’t Lu Pingfeng’s nature; it’s his instinctive respect for life. When he knew that if Qin Lin fired a second shot, Wen Yuchi would die, he would never let go of his gun. You’d do the same for me if you were in his place.”

The last statement made Gu Xiaowei’s throat shift as he swallowed.

When he spoke again, his voice was somewhat hoarse. “So what exactly is Lu Pingfeng’s desire for Wen Yuchi?”

Luo Yu gave a light chuckle. The air moved with his laughter, gentle yet carrying a sense of teasing affection that tugged at buried instincts.

“You are Lu Pingfeng. Your desires for Wen Yuchi are whatever you believe them to be.”

After saying that, Luo Yu lifted Gu Xiaowei’s wrist, bit the cigarette that he held, and stepped back, retreating into the studio lighting.

“Smoking isn’t good for you; I’ll take some of the burden for you. Also, during the next additional shots, I’ll keep you ‘rational.'”

Luo Yu grinned as he held the cigarette, his eyes curving with a mischievous, carefree charm. It was as if he were unbound by desire while Gu Xiaowei was ensnared by it.

The director confirmed that additional shooting for Wen Yuchi being shot was required. Gu Xiaowei’s blood stains, fortunately, were treated with a specialized stain remover and dried quickly, making them less noticeable.

The scene returned to the three hiding outside the hunting lodge—Lu Pingfeng pressing his hand over Wen Yuchi’s mouth, half-cradling him in his arms. However, this time Gu Xiaowei’s grip was much stronger, to the point Luo Yu wondered if he were about to break his jaw.

Even Nie Yangchen, squatting nearby, glanced at them and noted, “That… does Brother Luo seem like he’s already dead before he’s even been shot?”

Even the director called out, “Lu Pingfeng, ease up a bit! You’re holding too tightly—Wen Yuchi can barely stay upright, and he might collapse into your arms!”

Only then did Gu Xiaowei ease his grip slightly. Luo Yu steadied himself, half-squatting beside Gu Xiaowei.

He lifted his hand and gently covered Gu Xiaowei’s hand, quietly soothing his tense emotions.

—Don’t worry, don’t be afraid. I’ll always be here.

As shooting began, Qin Lin quietly chambered his gun and raised it toward Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi. Hearing the sound of the gun being chambered, Wen Yuchi used every ounce of strength to push Lu Pingfeng away.

In that instant, Wen Yuchi’s expression was full of determination and finality. His effort to push Lu Pingfeng away was as strong as his effort to keep Lu Pingfeng on this side of the boundary.

In a flash, Lu Pingfeng had already anticipated being pushed back. His response was to press forward, trying to reach the other, to step into his world.

Wen Yuchi’s chest erupted in a wide burst of red as he fell to the ground.

Even though they were drifting apart, they found themselves closer to each other than ever before.

Even as Wen Yuchi fell, his gaze was fixed on Lu Pingfeng’s gun—their only hope for survival.

This was a shot not seen in the previous sequence. This gaze was Wen Yuchi’s final reminder and protection for Lu Pingfeng—Raise your gun!

That gaze was Lu Pingfeng’s trigger, his focus. He took the gun, chambered it, and raised it quickly, positioning himself in front of Wen Yuchi with practiced ease.

Only by having a protective instinct at a level beyond human understanding could they respond with such unspoken teamwork. It wasn’t simply instinct anymore; it was calculated rationality without margin for error, their only hope to carve out a path for survival.

This rationality was no longer just Lu Pingfeng’s determination—it was mutual.

The additional shot depicted this mutual understanding and bond in a way that felt deeper and more resonant than the earlier versions. Even the director noted it, pausing the scene to review the moments closely.

“That gaze is powerful—it gives all of Lu Pingfeng’s decisions motivation. It’s no longer just cold rationality, but the mutual protection of two individuals,” the director murmured.

The assistant director agreed, “Yes, this is much better than the first version.”

The sky was growing brighter, and there was no time left for additional scenes.

The director called for wrap, and the crew began packing up the set.

As they headed down the mountain, Luo Yu watched Gu Xiaowei’s retreating figure. Despite having tried to console him, Gu Xiaowei remained trapped in Lu Pingfeng’s emotions. The morning light fell on his shoulders, but there was still something unlit within him.

“Only two or three days left before the main storyline finishes, right?” Yan Jun sighed as he walked behind Luo Yu.

“Are you in a rush to get back to your wife and kid, Brother Yan?” Luo Yu teased.

“Of course! My little girl must be thinking of me and getting skinnier from it,” Yan Jun said, holding his face in mock shyness.

Nie Yangchen passed by, chuckling, “Are you sure she misses you, or is she just going through a growth spurt?”

“You guys are so annoying,” Yan Jun shot a glance at Gu Xiaowei far ahead. “Today, Teacher Gu’s aura is still intense. When he raised the gun at you, I was really afraid the gun actually has bullets and he might accidentally fire for real.”

Nie Yangchen exhaled, “Who says it’s not true? Maybe it’s because Brother Luo’s acting is so good—that shattered look after being shot… even I felt distressed.”

Gu Xiaowei’s steps faltered at the comment.

“Cut it out. You’re really looking to get killed, aren’t you?” Luo Yu shot him a warning look.

After descending, Gu Xiaowei climbed into the van, leaning his chin on his hand as he stared out the window, deep in thought. Perhaps still wondering what Lu Pingfeng’s desires for Wen Yuchi truly were.

Luo Yu, exhausted, leaned against his shoulder and fell asleep, the light of the lake flickering against the window.

Soon, Luo Yu let out a faint snore, and when his face almost slipped off Gu Xiaowei’s shoulder, Gu Xiaowei finally turned around and gently pulled him into his embrace. As the car passed over a small hill, bumping upward, Gu Xiaowei instinctively placed his hand over Luo Yu’s head to protect him.

In the backseat, Xiao Qin couldn’t help but feel a twinge of envy. When would she have a boyfriend as thoughtful and attentive as Brother Gu?

“Mm…” Luo Yu shifted slightly, turning his face deeper into Gu Xiaowei’s chest to avoid the light.

This position made it so that Gu Xiaowei had to lean sideways to shield him from the light. Xiao Qin reached for a hat and stretched it across from between the seats, asking, “How about we put a hat on Brother Luo?”

“It’s fine,” Gu Xiaowei replied, lowering his gaze as he leaned back against the seat, his eyes resting on the top of Luo Yu’s head.

After they returned to the villa, and Luo Yu finished showering he knocked on Gu Xiaowei’s door, “Teacher Gu, I’m done with the bathroom” 

After a while, there was still no response.

“Did he fall asleep already? Or where did he go?” He turned the knife only to find that there was no one inside.

Where did that guy go?

Luo Yu let out a helpless sigh, his previous tiredness now overtaken by alertness.

He went back to his room and used his phone to call Gu Xiaowei only to hear the ringtone coming from Gu Xiaowei’s nightstand.

This guy left without even taking his phone?

“So energetic… Is it because he’s still young?” Luo Yu murmured.

No, no, no. This body of mine is still very young. Don’t casually rely on age to assert authority.

Luo Yu took a deep breath, grabbed a T-shirt and some casual pants, threw them on, and went downstairs. In the living room, he happened upon Xiao Qin, who was lying on the sofa applying a facial mask.

“Brother Luo, are you going out too?” Xiao Qin asked.

“Yeah. Have you seen your Brother Gu?”

“Yeah, he said he was going out to get some fresh air.”

“Okay. If he comes back, just let him know that I went out too.” Luo Yu smiled, adjusted his baseball cap, and headed out.

“You two really have a lot of energy… You don’t need to sleep after filming all night?” Xiao Qin couldn’t help but exclaim.

This vast rose villa resort was too large. Luo Yu didn’t think he would run into Gu Xiaowei. In fact, if he wandered far, he wasn’t sure if he could even find his way back.

He wandered aimlessly, occasionally humming an off-key tune: “Come back, come back, Gu Xiaowei who is wandering the world~”

After wandering for over half an hour without finding Gu Xiaowei’s figure, he gave up.

He spotted a long bench by the roadside. The sun was warm, and the breeze carried the scent of flowers. It was perfect for lying down.

He lay on the bench, his long legs dangling on the other side, his baseball cap shading his face. Since Gu Xiaowei would eventually return to his room and realize Luo Yu had left to find him—likely getting lost in the process—he didn’t worry.

Luo Yu quickly fell into a peaceful nap.

Some time later, his phone rang. He almost forgot where he was, and when he fumbled for his phone, he fell off the bench. Fortunately, his long limbs managed to catch him in time.

“Hello…” Luo Yu yawned.

“Do you know where you are now?” Gu Xiaowei’s voice came through the phone, calm but with an undertone of urgency.

“Sleeping… sitting on a bench. Behind me is a rose trellis. In front of me is… another rose trellis.”

His answer was vague and unhelpful, and he chuckled at himself.

“So you don’t know where you are,” Gu Xiaowei stated.

“Well… I guess I’m okay. I came out to find you, thinking fate might let me run into you, but it seems like between us there’s no…”

Before he could finish, Gu Xiaowei cut him off.

“Share your location with me. I’ll come get you.” Gu Xiaowei sounded calm and unangry.

“Oh, okay.”

After sharing his location, Luo Yu sat up. He glanced at his phone and realized he had slept for over three hours—right into noon. Gu Xiaowei must have been out wandering and only realized he was missing upon returning.

He kept his baseball cap on, leaning his head back as he relaxed again. Before long, he drifted back to sleep.

When Gu Xiaowei found him following the shared location, he saw Luo Yu lying with his baseball cap pulled low, his neck tilted back, and a blue butterfly perched delicately on his throat. The butterfly’s wings moved gently with Luo Yu’s breathing, as if it had emerged from his very essence.

Gu Xiaowei slowed his steps, his shadow hovering over the butterfly. He was careful not to disturb it.

After a while, Luo Yu shifted, and just as his hat was about to fall off, Gu Xiaowei reached forward and steadied it. The butterfly took flight.

“En… Gu Xiaowei… is that you?” Luo Yu’s voice was soft, tinged with sleep.

He moved his neck, pulling off his hat, and found himself staring into Gu Xiaowei’s deep, sea-like gaze. It felt as if his heart was trapped in those eyes, unable to escape.

“…You know you’re directionally challenged, yet you came out anyway. Why?” Gu Xiaowei adjusted the hat for him, avoiding Luo Yu’s gaze for once.

Beneath the hat, Luo Yu’s lips curved faintly, a subtle, alluring smile that made Gu Xiaowei’s blood rush. The air heated up, and the blood quickly surged, driving Gu Xiaowei to move closer to the other.

“Gu Xiaowei, after walking for so long, have you figured anything out?” Luo Yu teased. His tone hinted at mischief and a trap.

“Figured out what?” Gu Xiaowei asked cautiously.

Luo Yu’s smile grew. “—What kind of desire do you have for me, exactly?”

The question hit like an electric jolt. Gu Xiaowei knew this was layered with meaning. If he withdrew, it referred to “Lu Pingfeng’s desire for Wen Yuchi.” If he dared pursue and act on those feelings, it implied a direct question about his own feelings toward Luo Yu.

Gu Xiaowei looked down, his gaze landing on Luo Yu’s graceful throat. He wants to become his butterfly, emerging from his body, breaking free from the cocoon.

Gu Xiaowei’s hands came to Luo Yu’s neck—firm but not painful—and felt it bob against his palm. “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered.

Luo Yu tensed initially but soon relaxed under his touch, sensing no malice. It was as if Gu Xiaowei was protecting him in this way, layer by layer, not to make him lose his breath, but to ensure that nothing could harm him.

Gu Xiaowei’s hand pressed gently up to Luo Yu’s jaw, their breaths close. For a moment, Luo Yu felt his lips slightly brush against Gu Xiaowei’s. But when he tried to keep the other close, the other had already moved away.

Too careful. Too tender.

But restraint was natural to Gu Xiaowei.

Blood raced toward his heart, and all thoughts and concerns lost their meaning. Luo Yu even felt the urge to quickly respond, to chase after the other person, to confirm what exactly had touched him earlier.

When Gu Xiaowei’s hand left Luo Yu’s throat and gently lifted his cap, Gu Xiaowei whispered, “I’ll take you back.”

Luo Yu looked up again, seeing Gu Xiaowei’s gaze soften, its transparency different now, deeper yet calm.

Gu Xiaowei reached out, and without hesitation, Luo Yu took his hand, rising from the bench. Gu Xiaowei held on firmly, never letting go.

His palm was dry, yet hotter than usual, as if it could break free at any moment. But whenever Luo Yu deliberately slowed his pace, he would notice how the other clearly exerted force, as if afraid Luo Yu might let go of his hand.

They walked through endless rows of rose trellises, flowers brushing Luo Yu’s shoulders and neck. He wanted to pull away and scratch the ticklish spots, but every motion was met with firmer pressure from Gu Xiaowei’s hand.

They walked for an unknown amount of time, as if they would continue this way until the end of the world. When the rose trellis turned to another direction, Gu Xiaowei suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“You didn’t hit me,” he observed.

“Huh?” Luo Yu stopped as well.

“You didn’t push me away.”

Gu Xiaowei’s usually cold gaze seemed to be gradually warmed like a glass of wine, slowly heating up, and now it was almost boiling to the point of catching fire.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me why I kissed you. I’ve been wondering the whole way if I offended you, if I made you unhappy, if you endured me because the film was still in production, if it was because…”

Luo Yu’s heart raced faster and faster with every “if” and “whether” from Gu Xiaowei.

That feeling was like the most innocent child, secretly kissing the person they secretly admired under the sunlight. When the other person’s gaze swept toward them, they felt both guilty and restrained, yet unable to stop themselves.

“So it really was a kiss just now,” Luo Yu said, turning his face to look at him directly and smiling. At first, it was a soft laugh, then he covered his stomach and shook, laughing louder and louder. “I wondered the whole way—was that really a kiss?”

To Gu Xiaowei’s ears, it sounded like mockery, or more like another kind of raw, unreserved seduction—a forbidden act that had become no longer.

Gu Xiaowei grabbed Luo Yu’s chin, forcing him to tilt his head up. Before Luo Yu could catch his breath, Gu Xiaowei pressed against him forcefully—wildly, as though no amount of force could ever satisfy him.

Luo Yu couldn’t withstand his strength, stumbling back until Gu Xiaowei’s other hand firmly supported his back.

Beyond the lines and acting, Luo Yu felt true, unrestrained, and unhinged passion from Gu Xiaowei for the first time. Every breath felt like dragging the midday sun into the evening, letting emotions rise and fall like tides—creating a world that felt as if it was plunging toward the end of days, only for that end to turn into the dawn of another beginning.

Without anything to support himself, Luo Yu instinctively pressed himself into the rose trellis. When his hand went back to brace, about to graze the trellis’s thorns, Gu Xiaowei swept him into his arms.

If there wasn’t a higher place to set him on, then Gu Xiaowei would lift him with his own strength, making paths through the stars and clear skies.

Luo Yu felt numb from his lips to his brain. His baseball cap, dangling from his head, swayed precariously before finally falling to his feet.

“That really was a kiss,” Gu Xiaowei said.

His gaze was intense, heating Luo Yu’s throat and heart.

In his previous life, living for over thirty years, even after being reborn and seeing Gu Xiaowei in the elevator, Luo Yu never thought he would develop feelings for him. His emotions had always been an empty cup, capable of containing any role, any script, or even the most ridiculous and transgressive story. That cup was the boundary that kept him apart from worldly passions, preventing anything from spilling over.

He thought that after being reborn, he wouldn’t have those thoughts. That he would only be even more careful, composed, and head toward the light.

But the more time he spent with Gu Xiaowei, the more he wanted to lose control.

Luo Yu laughed softly, thinking that both of them were the kind of people who would never turn back once they took that step, even if they hit a wall and shattered.

Lowering his head, Luo Yu kissed Gu Xiaowei’s eyelashes lightly, then brushed his nose with his lips.

It felt too surreal. There really was someone in this world whom he couldn’t stop loving.

Luo Yu lowered his head and tightly embraced Gu Xiaowei. Gu Xiaowei tilted his head back, as if waiting for something, or perhaps not fully comprehending his own emotions. The next moment, he held onto Luo Yu even more tightly.

“You kissed me too lightly… it makes me look like an obsessive man,” Gu Xiaowei murmured.

Luo Yu murmured back, “You already are an obsessive man.”

But I’m even crazier than you.

At this moment, I want to shatter my own body—letting my bones and blood mix into yours, countless roses blooming from within my veins, turning my restrained emotions into chaos.

“Gu Xiaowei, I once lost everything…” Luo Yu said in a muffled voice.

“It doesn’t matter. We’ll win everything back together,” Gu Xiaowei said as he lifted his hand to grip Luo Yu’s head, his fingers threading into Luo Yu’s hair, as if protecting his dreams and passion.

“I meant to say, compared to you, that ‘everything’ isn’t anything at all.”

Gu Xiaowei’s gaze lingered in that moment, as though trying to control something. Slowly, he released Luo Yu and took his hand, walking forward.

“What’s wrong?”

Gu Xiaowei’s restraint left Luo Yu puzzled.

“I’m not good enough to compare with that ‘everything,’” Gu Xiaowei said as he walked forward.

Luo Yu watched that serious, deliberate back, wondering if he was afraid that he would fall into love too deeply. Why was he so heated moments ago, and now so distant?

But Gu Xiaowei’s grip was too strong, and it didn’t seem like he was regretting anything.

Ah, such a cute classmate Gu Xiaowei. His strong exterior masked a soft heart, and here Luo Yu was, overthinking again.

When they returned to the villa, everything was quiet. Xiao Qin and the others had already gone to bed. They came back right around three or four in the afternoon.

“Hungry?” Luo Yu asked Gu Xiaowei.

Gu Xiaowei, who was putting on his slippers, hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Yeah.”

“I’ll make some noodles!”

After saying that, Luo Yu quickly headed for the kitchen.

Gu Xiaowei sat by the entrance, closing his eyes and exhaling a long breath.

He grabbed his hair tightly, his voice low: “What are you thinking…”

Luo Yu was good at taking care of himself. Although he didn’t often cook before, because he lived alone his noodle-making skills were excellent. Even with only tomatoes and ham from the villa’s fridge, Luo Yu managed to cook a fragrant pot of noodles, placing them into two bowls. Then he felt something odd.

When Gu Xiaowei came to his house for hot pot before, he was always eager to help—washing vegetables, making garlic sauce, cleaning up afterward. But now, where did he disappear to?

Could it be that what is unobtainable always excites us, and once obtained, it loses its charm?

Luo Yu walked out of the kitchen, not finding Gu Xiaowei in the living room either.

“Where did he go?”

Was he tired and went to bed? No way?

Luo Yu still couldn’t calm his fast-beating heart. Was Gu Xiaowei really able to sleep now?

The more he thought about it, the more Luo Yu felt that Gu Xiaowei’s reaction was like a volcano suddenly cooling down, which was a bit irritating. He went upstairs and gently twisted the doorknob to the other person’s bedroom.

Gu Xiaowei wasn’t sleeping. Instead, he was standing on the terrace, head bowed. Luo Yu could see a cigarette box and lighter nearby.

Why was he smoking again?

Luo Yu took a few steps forward and saw Gu Xiaowei with his brows furrowed and his expression dim. He was looking at the cigarette in his fingers, then suddenly pressed the burning tip into the palm of his other hand.

All of Luo Yu’s nerves went on high alert, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to jump out of his throat. In just two or three steps, he rushed over.

“What are you doing—”

Without thinking, Luo Yu reached out to grab the cigarette from Gu Xiaowei’s hand, only to burn his own palm in the process.

“Ouch…”

Gu Xiaowei’s calm expression instantly changed as he anxiously grabbed Luo Yu’s wrist, pried his fingers open, and took away the cigarette butt.

Luo Yu’s palm had already developed a round red mark from the burn.

Without saying a word, Gu Xiaowei dragged Luo Yu back to the room, took out a first-aid kit from the cabinet, and began treating the burn.

Luo Yu watched the furrowed brows of the other man, and after a long while, as Gu Xiaowei wrapped a thin layer of gauze around his palm, Luo Yu moved closer and gently tapped his forehead against Gu Xiaowei’s nose.

“Do you know how hot a cigarette butt is?” Luo Yu asked.

“Seven or eight hundred degrees,” Gu Xiaowei said, his voice low and serious.

“What’s wrong? Why are you suddenly burning yourself with a cigarette butt?” Luo Yu paused for a moment before adding, “I’m not stupid, my vision is fine. I saw you trying to press the cigarette butt into your palm.”

Gu Xiaowei was silent for a long time, and Luo Yu patiently stayed by his side, waiting.

“I just feel like it’s not real. I wanted to burn myself to see if it would hurt,” Gu Xiaowei said quietly.

At that moment, Luo Yu felt a surge of heartache. He knew Gu Xiaowei wasn’t being dramatic or lying; this was exactly how he felt at that moment.

From the moment they confirmed their feelings for each other, Gu Xiaowei, who had been so passionately intense to the point that Luo Yu could barely withstand it, had suddenly gone cold. Luo Yu could sense that something was wrong.

Was it because of the character Lu Pingfeng? Or was it something else that made Gu Xiaowei so uncertain?

“Am I so important to you? So much that you’re questioning the reality of all this?” Luo Yu asked, bracing himself beside Gu Xiaowei and looking up into his eyes.

“En,” Gu Xiao Wei responded softly, yet his expression was extremely serious.

Luo Yu laughed again, “If you want to feel pain, isn’t that easy?”

The next second, Luo Yu leaned over and bit the tip of Gu Xiaowei’s nose.

This guy, usually so commanding, now seemed like a vulnerable, pliable alpaca at his mercy.

“Ouch…” Gu Xiaowei frowned slightly but didn’t pull away; instead, he hugged Luo Yu tightly.

He needed him. No matter how strong and commanding he was on stage, no matter how dominant he appeared in front of investors, he needed Luo Yu. He laid bare his most fragile and vulnerable side for Luo Yu to see.

“Did it hurt?” Luo Yu whispered, so close that his voice was barely audible.

It was obvious, Gu Xiaowei’s body temperature had risen, and his ears were visibly flushed.

“Not very much.” 

His voice sounded calm, but his tone was slightly hoarse.

Luo Yu looked down at him and found his face relatively calm.

Was he so unappealing?

He regretted not watching enough romantic dramas and TV shows to improve his seduction skills.

“Those embarrassed red ears are pretty cute, though.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

“Then why are your ears red?”

“The reason you had red ears today is why mine are red too.”

Gu Xiaowei was about to turn his head away but Luo Yu wouldn’t give him the chance, leaning in and biting his earlobe hard. That area is cartilage, and biting it forcefully is much more painful than biting a soft earlobe or the tip of the nose.

Luo Yu braced himself, knowing that Gu Xiaowei might push him away or pinch his face to force him to stop. However, to his surprise, Gu Xiaowei gripped the back of his head, holding him close as if offering himself entirely.

Luo Yu released his grip, a trace of distress in his voice. “Now it must really hurt, right? Does it feel real now?”

“Not very much,” Gu Xiaowei said.

“Still not enough pain?” Luo Yu shoved him backward, and Gu Xiaowei obediently fell onto the bed.

His dark hair spilled onto the pristine white sheets, his face—a mask of apparent calm—somehow gave off the feeling that he was ready to be shattered.

Luo Yu held his wrist, for the first time having control over him, as if all of this man’s happiness was something he alone could give.

“Not painful… still doesn’t feel real enough,” Gu Xiaowei didn’t move at all. His eyes deeply fixed on Luo Yu, as if he were the nightfall, the bright stars, all the beautiful, lofty, and unattainable things. Gu Xiaowei, on the other hand, resembled a black hole, seemingly distant and indifferent to all temptations, drawing in all light and warmth, attracting them relentlessly.

The next moment, Luo Yu lowered his head, and Gu Xiaowei’s lower lip was met with sharp pain. He tasted a faint metallic tang.

Even if the entire world became barbed wire wrapping around his back, his instinctive protectiveness and hunger spilled outward, unstoppable.

The world felt upended when Luo Yu’s head was pressed into the pillow.

This was Gu Xiaowei’s true kiss—fearless, without hesitation, and once the waves began, they would not recede.

Wanting to escape but instantly being engulfed, all the sensory nerves burning wildly into an uncontrollable fire, more flamboyant and reckless than any storm.

Luo Yu was that tiny spark, setting Gu Xiaowei on fire, and the latter had no intention of forgiving him at all.

This was the real Gu Xiao Wei—controlled, restrained, disciplined, but at his core, alive, chaotic, and driven by raw instinct.

“Who made this noodle? It’s all clumped up, is anyone still eating it?” Ye Shengyi’s voice came from downstairs.

Luo Yu froze, his shoulders tensing as he grabbed Gu Xiaowei’s shirt collar and patted his back. The more flustered he became, the more Gu Xiaowei pressed into him.

The footsteps of Ye Shengyi grew louder, and Luo Yu’s heart raced. He knew that even if they were caught, it wouldn’t matter, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be openly observed. Ye Shengyi would surely yell, and that would likely draw in others like Ah Yan and Xiao Qin.

As the knock came, Gu Xiaowei suddenly sat up, putting his arm under Luo Yu’s neck and pulling him with him, turning them both so that Luo Yu was facing away from the door.

Finally breathing in fresh air, Luo Yu’s head was still spinning.

“Brother Gu, do you know who cooked the noodles downstairs?” Ye Shengyi asked.

“Luo Yu made them. We’re going down to eat now,” Gu Xiaowei said, casually, as if nothing had happened.

The door wasn’t locked, and Ye Shengyi pushed it open, immediately seeing Luo Yu with his back to the door and Gu Xiaowei kneeling beside him, holding his shoulder as if giving him a massage.

“Brother Luo, are you not feeling well? The outdoor shoot is almost over. When we go back to the city later we can get a spa treatment together!” Ye Shengyi said.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Yeah, okay… ah!” Gu Xiaowei suddenly pinched Luo Yu’s shoulder for some reason.

“Don’t forget your noodles. It’s all clumped up!” Ye Shengyi said.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re going now,” Luo Yu said calmly, and realized that he had developed a strong heart. His face wasn’t blushing and his heartbeat wasn’t picking up either.

Ye Shengyi closed the door, and Luo Yu covered his face with one hand.

If you would like to show some ♡  then please consider supporting this translator! ლ(⌒εー)ლ

When Gu Xiaowei reminded Luo Yu that this was a hand-warmer and Luo Yu couldn’t find the spot to put his hand in, everyone laughed.

[Senior Brother is so adorably silly but cute!]

[Brother Luo, that confused expression on your face is even cuter than a little bunny!]

[Let me guess, it must have been Teacher Gu who taught you how to open the little bunny!]

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

When Gu Xiaowei pulled open both ends of the little bunny and put his hand inside, the netizens couldn’t contain themselves. A flood of comments came through, all saying, [He held his hand].

When Luo Yu’s hand got squeezed by Gu Xiaowei in the hand-warmer, and Gu Xiaowei softly asked, “It hurts?” with a gentle, smiling tone, it was just too swoon-worthy.

[Senior Brother, don’t doubt it. Brother Gu is intentionally pinching your hand!]

[I’ve never heard Teacher Gu speak so gently!]

[You two are locked together, never separating!]

[Brother Gu only shows this kind of sweetness to Senior Brother~]

When Luo Yu read the comments, he realized that netizens seemed to be more invested in these moments than even himself, already crafting sweet fanfiction scenarios. 

“What are you doing looking at your phone like that? Netizens roasting you or something?” Gu Xiaowei leaned over to ask.

“I just admire the fans’ creativity! You only pinched my finger in the hand-warmer, and they’ve spun all these sweet ideas. They lock us together constantly. Do you think Brother Cheng will be heartbroken seeing this? He’s still waiting for you to make an official announcement about your brotherly bond with him!”

Luo Yu acted casual but in his heart he couldn’t help but wonder. Gu Xiaowei didn’t bother with media attention or fan manipulation, but with their filming together, they had been actively appearing in the same spaces and interacting, fueling the imagination of their fans.

According to the usual trajectory of CP pairings in the entertainment industry, those who show too much affection often split up quickly, sometimes with dramatic fallout. Although Gu Xiaowei seems like the kind of person who would never say a bad word about an ex after breaking up, Luo Yu couldn’t help but worry—once “Counterattack” finished airing and the movie wrapped, would they end up like other CPs that fizzle out quietly?

By then, the audience might still be deeply invested, but the two of them would have already gone their separate ways.

“Just this and you think their imagination is impressive? When they see you wearing my suit and shirt while I button the cufflinks for you later, they probably will visualize a wedding ceremony and ring exchange. Should I dig you a hole to hide in then?” Gu Xiaowei joked, not looking at Luo Yu but focused on his phone.

Luo Yu glanced at him, surprised that Gu Xiaowei was also watching his birthday unboxing video. This was slightly awkward, he felt like he was watching himself and Gu Xiaowei dating.

Before he could adjust himself, Gu Xiaowei’s hand reached out and rested on the back of Luo Yu’s neck. Luo Yu nearly bumped his chin into Gu Xiaowei’s shoulder and had to brace himself against the couch.

“Let’s watch together. If fans can ship us this strongly, we should learn what exactly they’re catching onto,” Gu Xiaowei said.

Luo Yu, a bit helpless, replied, “Your mere presence is a ship in itself. Your cool and aloof demeanor, yet your willingness to patiently record unboxing videos with me is enough to fuel their fantasies.”

Gu Xiaowei frowned, “Xiao Qin and Ah Yan did similar videos with me, and no one shipped us like this.”

Luo Yu, “…Did you even interact with them?”

Gu Xiaowei turned toward him, “Isn’t it because you’re handsome and have a good figure? If you were fat, unattractive, or had a less appealing physique, do you think fans would still be interested?”

“Uh… I’ll make sure I don’t become oily or unappealing for at least a century.”

The video moved to the gingerbread segment. Gu Xiaowei said, “I’ll make gingerbread for you to eat on my birthday,” and the fans went into another frenzy. From the screen, Luo Yu could feel their enthusiasm, which wasn’t just about literal eating but something more suggestive.

“Classmate Gu, you’ve set off a firestorm of fan fantasies with this line. They’ll bombard you with all sorts of gingerbread now,” Luo Yu was amused.

“I’ll pass them all to you. You can have your own live eating broadcast with them. Though…” Gu Xiaowei dragged out the last word.

“What though?” Luo Yu asked knowingly as if he wouldn’t fall for it, but his heart leaped in curiosity.

“They want you to eat more than just gingerbread,” Gu Xiaowei said nonchalantly.

“You’re talking about eating you instead, huh?” Luo Yu laughed.

Gu Xiaowei turned his face, so close that his nose almost brushed against Luo Yu’s cheek. Luo Yu instinctively wanted to pull back, but he suppressed it.

“You’ve actually become more clever, Senior Brother?”

“It’s you who are clever! Fans expect you to nibble on more than just gingerbread, aren’t you worried?”

“Only if you don’t mind pain I can nibble elsewhere,” Gu Xiaowei quipped.

“Wait, you actually made a saucy joke? Did you learn this from someone?” Luo Yu was half amused, half embarrassed.

“You.” Gu Xiaowei replied while going back to watching the video.

His heart began beating madly again. Luckily they were separated by the couch otherwise Gu Xiaowei would notice his increased temperature. 

The video reached a point where Luo Yu pronounced a fan’s name “GXW” from a gift, sending fan comments flying in a frenzy.

[That’s Gu Xiaowei!]

[You’ve got no sense of keenness towards Gu Xiaowei’s name, Senior Brother!]

[Senior Brother, you silly blockhead.]

After changing into a blazer and shirt, Luo Yu appeared onscreen looking sharp. Fans gasped, and even Luo Yu couldn’t resist checking his reflection.

“Are the beauty filters turned on?”

“No. A shirt and blazer always complement a man’s physique,” Gu Xiaowei said, turning his face and smiling again—devastatingly sexy. “Especially when you’re wearing my clothes.”

Sure enough, when the off-screen voice played, with Ye Shengyi saying that Luo Yu wore the wrong clothes, the comments went into a frenzy.

[Wore the wrong clothes? Whose clothes is he wearing? Ahhh, is it what I’m thinking?]

[Awooo, Brother Gu admitted that Senior Brother wore his clothes by mistake, and he seemed to smile while saying it!]

[Teacher Gu’s willingness to admit it like this—so sweet!]

[You both refusing to lock together is fine, but Teacher Gu still needs to watch Brother Lu’s wardrobe choices! Grandpa shirts and flip-flops are too much—don’t make me look!]

[No way! Teacher Gu, are you willing to let Senior Brother wear those grandpa shirts for us to see?]

[Haha, you secretly want to keep that for yourself, don’t you?]

Seeing the comments float by, Luo Yu suddenly realized something wasn’t right. “What’s wrong with grandpa shirts? Why are they saying you don’t want me to wear them for the fans?”

Grandpa shirts weren’t uncomfortable! They were cotton, inexpensive, and these kids just didn’t know how good they were!

“Think about it carefully,” Gu Xiaowei said, turning toward him and placing his hand on Luo Yu’s shoulder, running his hand down. At first glance, it looked like he was outlining the shape of the grandpa shirt. Before his hand could reach a certain point, Luo Yu grabbed his wrist.

“That’s enough, Teacher Gu!”

“I haven’t finished yet,” Gu Xiaowei said lightly. “I have OCD. I can’t leave things half-done.”

“You’ve already achieved your goal. I understand now,” Luo Yu said, showing a sincere expression.

“Heh,” Gu Xiaowei chuckled coldly, finally turning his head.

The entire video became a celebration for fans, as well as for Bai Ying and Yan Ye’s characters. Search rankings shot up one after another. While Sister Cui welcomed the exposure, as the two were actors, she hoped fans would focus on their work instead of their interactions. She intentionally pressed down on some of the trending hashtags to avoid envious people causing unnecessary conflicts.

Meng Yu was initially worried that Luo Yu would exploit this situation to generate shipping, as CPs were common in the entertainment industry. Often, the more intense the ship, the worse the fallout. Sometimes, one party’s crisis would pull the other party into controversy, consuming tremendous effort to resolve, with netizens still unswayed in the end. However, Meng Yu didn’t expect Sister Cui to call him directly to discuss this—expressing the intent to lower the heat surrounding Luo Yu’s birthday and their shared exposure.

Sister Cui sounded more confident and steady compared to before. “Luo Yu is still in his rising period. Being close friends with Gu Xiaowei is a good thing. However, if there are too many hints of anything more than friendship and expectations are raised, the fans’ attention will overshadow their work. Fans today ship this pair; tomorrow they’ll ship another. Only their work and acting can ensure lasting success.

I’m not sure if you have any marketing strategies. If not, I’ll take care of bringing the heat down.”

Meng Yu smiled. “I’ve thought about it too. Teacher Gu celebrating Teacher Lu’s birthday is heartfelt and not just a publicity stunt. He has lacked close friends in the industry. Right now, he seems like someone who has been lonely too long, suddenly returning to his college days after meeting his admired senior brother. I hope their bond remains free of commercial motivations so that they can maintain their friendship for the long term.”

“Of course. We can schedule a meal to better communicate and align our strategies.”

“That’s indeed necessary,” Meng Yu chuckled meaningfully.

After hanging up, Meng Yu let out a breath. Maybe others wouldn’t see it, but Meng Yu felt that Gu Xiaowei’s active involvement and closeness with Luo Yu had surpassed the admiration one might expect from a junior toward their senior. Looking at Gu Xiaowei’s interactions with Cheng Fei—who had also starred with him in the same drama—one could see how formal Gu Xiaowei had been at award events, always stiff and proper. But sitting next to Luo Yu, Meng Yu could imagine Gu Xiaowei gently offering Luo Yu water, even unscrewing the bottle cap or perhaps warming the water before handing it to him.

He shook his head. He could not think anymore, the more he thought the more fishy Gu Xiaowei appeared.

Meng Yu resolved to protect Gu Xiaowei as much as possible, knowing that once things were magnified or overly focused on, they would lose their natural progression.

Monitoring the online sentiment around the birthday video, Meng Yu confirmed there weren’t any major incidents. Luo Yu and Gu Xiaowei, along with Ye Shengyi and the others, were simply gathered at the table, blowing out candles and eating cake.

The birthday cake gifted by the resort was a delicately decorated with a crystal crown—not the traditional princess crown, but a king’s crown.

“Alright, time for Luo Yu’s coronation!” Ye Shengyi exclaimed as he held the crown, attempting to place it on Luo Yu’s head.

Unfortunately, Luo Yu was too tall, and the crown couldn’t reach him. He found it cute but childish and kept dodging.

After much teasing, Ye Shengyi handed the crown to Gu Xiaowei. “Brother Gu, on such an important day, I think a coronation ceremony is essential!”

Gu Xiaowei sighed in resignation as he held the crown.

“I’m not wearing it. It’s ridiculous,” Luo Yu protested, shaking his head.

“Then let’s have a proper coronation ceremony?” Gu Xiaowei tilted his head.

Luo Yu squinted at him. “What are you planning…?”

Ten minutes later, Luo Yu found himself seated, his face entirely painted with celebratory red cheek blushes, wrapped in a bedsheet resembling royal regalia, holding a hanger as a makeshift scepter.

“Brother Lu, act noble!” Xiao Qin, preparing to take photos, gestured toward him.

“This is ridiculous! Look at me! Who can act ‘noble’ dressed like this?” Luo Yu said, shaking his head.

“You look amazing!” 

“Classic European royal vibes—totally unique!”

Luo Yu sighed helplessly, looking up at the sky. How did his birthday turn into their comedy show?

Ye Shengyi even pulled out his phone and started playing the grand opening theme of a certain TV drama. With the villa’s natural echo effect, everyone’s spirits soared high.

Gu Xiaowei stood in front of him, holding the crown. “By my own hand, I crown you as king, acknowledging your rule. From now on—”

Before Luo Yu could protest, Ye Shengyi, along with the others, chimed in unison: “We pledge absolute loyalty and will defend your rights!”

With that, Gu Xiaowei placed the crown on Luo Yu’s head.

As Luo Yu was about to lower his head, Gu Xiaowei’s finger touched his forehead. “Don’t lower your head. The crown will fall off.”

“Alright, alright, you’re taking this way too seriously.”

“—Now, the king departs!”

After Ye Shengyi made the announcement, Gu Xiaowei turned sideways and extended his hand toward Luo Yu.

Luo Yu frowned slightly, eyeing Gu Xiaowei’s hand with suspicion. “Teacher Gu, I don’t get it. Is this supposed to be the king’s grand exit or the queen’s?”

“If you’re sure you won’t trip over the sheet, then you don’t need my help.”

“No, I definitely still need it.”

Sighing in resignation, Luo Yu decided to go along with their playful antics.

With a lofty air, Luo Yu placed his hand on Gu Xiaowei’s wrist. As he stood up, he almost tripped over the sheet for real. He wobbled slightly, and Gu Xiaowei quickly tightened his grip on Luo Yu’s hand while also steadying his crown.

Amid the majestic and imposing music, Luo Yu began his slow, deliberate walk toward the stairs.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Panic set in as Luo Yu’s heart dropped—his crown fell, and he caught it hastily.

“Luo Yu? We heard it’s your birthday. We came to celebrate!” said Yan Jun’s voice from outside.

“Don’t open it! Don’t open it!”

Crap! Why was Yan Jun here!

If his colleagues from the same crew saw this, it would definitely be a social death!

But Ye Shengyi had already cracked the door open, and it was too late to close it.

Yan Jun pushed the door open with a loud noise and called out in a carefree manner, “We only found out about your birthday because we watched the video you uploaded… You guys are really having a big celebration…”

Behind him stood several actors and staff, holding snacks and gifts, all staring in bewilderment at Luo Yu, who was draped in a bedsheet.

Luo Yu froze and said in a small voice, “I don’t think I can live this down.”

Gu Xiaowei whispered beside him: “As long as you act confident, the embarrassment is on them.”

Alright, it’s come to this point, so why not just go all out?

Luo Yu flashed an exaggerated grin. “Oh, look, another new friend has joined our mad journey.”

Yan Jun instinctively took half a step back, and Luo Yu pointed at him with the clothes hanger. “I hereby declare Yan Jun to be elevated to a First-Class Marquis!”

Ye Shengyi and Ah Yan exchanged glances and pulled Yan Jun into the mix.

“What are you… What are you planning to do… ah!…”

The next moment, Yan Jun was hit with a faceful of white foundation, matching His Majesty the King’s makeup look.

When this birthday party was shared online, netizens went absolutely wild.

“Haha! My Brother Luo turned bed sheets into supermodel chic, with legs that are 2.8 meters long!]

[Why didn’t Brother Gu put on makeup? What a missed opportunity!]

[Did no one find it especially sweet when Brother Gu crowned Senior Brother like that?]

[I just shipped this CP, and now it’s turned into a joke. I’m laughing so hard my head might fall off!]

[Hahahaha, Yan Jun is hilarious too—totally dazed from start to finish.]

[Did no one think Brother Gu looked like he was having the time of his life? You only ever get to see this side of him with Senior Brother!]

[Agree +1]

[Agree +2]

…

[Agree +10086]

Luo Yu’s birthday party ended at 4:30 PM.

He made a single wish while facing the birthday candles, wrapped in a bed sheet: no matter the circumstances or role, he hoped to be with Gu Xiaowei forever.

After the birthday celebrations, the filming of the movie progressed quickly, nearing completion.

In the latest scene, the two remaining heirs, Ding Bing and Zhuang Chao, cautiously approached the hunting lodge.

Night had fallen, and the only light came from the hunting lodge’s windows.

They had prepared for the possibility that Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi weren’t inside. However, as they arrived, the glow of the fireplace illuminated a shadow on the window.

“Playing tricks.” Ding Bing gave a cold chuckle and fired a shot at the window.

“Don’t shoot! It’s me! It’s me in here! Help! Help!”

Li Heng’s desperate cry rang out. He was the first to clash with Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi. Initially, he thought he might be strangled by Lu Pingfeng, but when he woke, he found himself bound in the basement, staring face-to-face with the dead driver—and nearly soiled himself.

Who knew that Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi came back again and dragged him out of the basement to put him in a rocking chair in the hunting cabin—at the time their intentions remained a mystery to him.

“Li Heng? Who else is in there with you?” Zhuang Chao shouted.

“No one! I swear! But hurry and save me! I know where they hid the antidote!” Li Heng shouted. “If you wait, dawn will break, and without the antidote, we’ll all die!”

Remembering the earlier incident with Zhuang He’s body being hung, Zhuang Chao didn’t act recklessly. His voice turned colder. “I think you’re in this with Lu Pingfeng, setting a trap for us.”

“Fuck! What would it serve me to lie to you? They’ve hidden things in here, and yes, they’ve set traps. If you save me, I can tell you where they are—and you can also find the antidote! Hurry, or it’ll be too late!” Li Heng’s voice grew more desperate.

Zhuang Chao glanced at Ding Bing and asked loudly, “Then what are they doing now?”

“That Wen Yuchi is a forensic doctor, right? He said the police would be looking for them! After luring you here, they would escape to the west side of the island and light smoke signals for help!” Li Heng said.

Ding Bing squinted his eyes. “That does fit their usual police logic. Let’s check if Wen Yuchi is close by.”

The two patrolled the area surrounding the lodge but didn’t spot anyone.

Finally, Zhuang Chao couldn’t hold back. “How about I go in and check, bring that fool Li Heng out? You stay outside as backup.”

Zhuang Chao harbored ulterior motives. If Li Heng knew where the antidote was, he wanted to claim it for himself before Ding Bing could. After all, fortunes come from risks.

“You go in if you want to. Good luck,” Ding Bing said calmly.

Ding Bing believed that if Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi’s heads were functioning properly, the antidote would be on them, not left behind in the cabin. This was clearly a trap.

Zhuang Chao eagerly approached the lodge, about to kick down the door, when Li Heng suddenly shouted:

“Wait! The trap… the trap is at the door! If you push it open, it’ll trigger the mechanism, and you’ll be riddled with holes!”

Zhuang Chao hastily pulled his foot back. “As expected! It’s a trap!”

Ding Bing didn’t show much emotion, but inwardly, he laughed. If it were a real trap, how could Li Heng have seen it?

Zhuang Chao used a dagger to pry open the lock, stepping to the side and pulling at a concealed rope.

As the wooden door creaked open, a row of spiked boards came crashing down.

Lu Pingfeng and his group likely used crude hunting traps to set up this kind of improvised mechanism.

Despite how simple the trap was, Zhuang Chao knew that without caution, he could have been dead in seconds.

Holding his gun carefully, he advanced into the lodge, scanning the interior.

He finally approached Li Heng. “Tell me! Where’s the antidote?”

“You untie my rope first! Then I’ll tell you!” Li Heng insisted.

Zhuang Chao drew his knife, cutting through the ropes binding Li Heng while remaining vigilant.

Li Heng, now free, moved his wrists and suddenly drew out a small folding knife from his pocket, plunging it toward Zhuang Chao’s neck.

“Ah—”

Zhuang Chao gasped, blood pouring as he fell to the ground. His eyes widened as his body convulsed before the light in his pupils faded, and his breath stopped.

Li Heng’s expression shifted from a dull, helpless one into a manic, crazed grin. He ran over to a goat’s severed head on the wall and laughed excitedly.

He placed his hand into the sheep’s mouth, unsure of what he was searching for. A few seconds later, he pulled out a small black container.

As he opened the capsule-sized container, a cold voice came from behind him.

“If you want to stay alive, put the antidote cap back on.”

Li Heng hadn’t anticipated that after eliminating Zhuang Chao, there would still be Ding Bing to deal with! He was far too careless!

Ding Bing had a gun, and the hunting cabin door was wide open. He could stand outside and directly aim at Li Heng, saying, “Throw the antidote over to me!”

At first, Li Heng hesitated, unwilling to give it up, until Ding Bing shot his shoulder. The pain was unbearable, making him cry out to his parents. In that moment of agony, Li Heng threw the capsule out. Taking advantage of the moment he tried to flee, but Ding Bing shot him without hesitation.

Wen Yuchi, hiding nearby, noticed that things had completely diverged from their original plan. As he was about to rush out, Lu Pingfeng covered his mouth and nose, forcing him back down.

Wen Yuchi struggled to lift his head, discovering that Lu Pingfeng’s gaze was cold and calm, but there was a faint smile.

According to their plan, Li Heng wasn’t supposed to have a dagger on him. When they had tied him up, Wen Yuchi had even checked his body for weapons. So where did the dagger used to kill Zhuang Chao come from?

Wen Yuchi recalled that before leaving, Lu Pingfeng had whispered something into Li Heng’s ear. Could it be that Lu Pingfeng had incited Li Heng to kill Zhuang Chao? No… It wasn’t Lu Pingfeng. He wasn’t a control freak—if he had intended to kill, he would have done it himself instead of inciting someone.

Could it have been someone else?

The thought made Wen Yuchi break into a cold sweat. Subconsciously, he reached for the dagger on his waist, only to find it was missing!

Li Heng, shot, lay in a pool of his own blood, trembling violently. From a distance, Lu Pingfeng pressed Wen Yuchi down, whispering into his ear: “There’s no saving him.”

Ding Bing chuckled and said aloud, “Still not coming out?”

Ding Bing was incredibly arrogant—but his confidence was misplaced. Anyone with common sense would know that a three-on-one situation didn’t inspire courage to taunt opponents.

Wen Yuchi heard the faint sound of a gun being loaded. His adrenaline spiked as he forcefully pushed Lu Pingfeng off him.

The pain of a bullet piercing his chest reached his brain as he fell, and his body was overcome by a suffocating, sharp pain. Blood flowed freely from his body.

“Aha… hit the forensic doctor, huh? I was hoping for two birds with one stone,” Qin Lin said, standing up slowly with a gun pointed at Lu Pingfeng.

Lu Pingfeng raised his own gun, aiming directly at Qin Lin.

“Try shooting, and you’ll never get the antidote,” Lu Pingfeng said coldly. His voice was sharp and unwavering.

This wasn’t directed at Qin Lin but at Ding Bing. At this moment, it became clear to all that Qin Lin and Ding Bing were on the same side, hidden deep within their schemes.

Qin Lin turned his head slightly, narrowing his eyes. “Mr. Lu, the forensic doctor, is about to die. I thought you would try to save him. Surprisingly, you remain so composed. I guess old Mr. Zhuang underestimated you, believing that this little forensic doctor meant something special to you.”

The entire mountain seemed utterly silent.

Wen Yuchi turned his head weakly, his lips bloodless, eyes fixed on Lu Pingfeng, his body trembling violently. He forced himself to stay conscious and focused on Lu Pingfeng’s figure.

It was strange. Though the entire mountain lacked light, Wen Yuchi felt as if Lu Pingfeng were cloaked in all the light of the universe—so bright, so radiant, that it felt like it was leading him to another world.

Lu Pingfeng raised his gun, his shoulders not trembling even once. His posture, standing firm, appeared resolute and unyielding.

The stillness was deafening, and in the calm before destruction, the tension was unbearable.

Ding Bing appeared shaken. Lu Pingfeng seemed like he existed in his own isolated realm, making Ding Bing cautious, unwilling to cross that invisible boundary.

All calculated plans and manipulations by Qin Lin felt futile under Lu Pingfeng’s unwavering gaze.

Qin Lin couldn’t guarantee a perfect shot on Lu Pingfeng, and Lu Pingfeng wouldn’t stop firing until his very last breath.

Lu Pingfeng stood there, refusing even to check Wen Yuchi’s wounds, his protective instinct seemingly trying to contain the entire space, anchoring Wen Yuchi’s breathing, heartbeats, and blood flow, as if trying to lock him into his own world.

The scene concluded here.

Time passed quietly until Gu Xiaowei put down his gun. The other actors, including Nie Yangchen, didn’t dare to move until a lighting technician accidentally stepped on a branch, making a cracking sound that broke the tension.

“Good—” Sheng Yunlan shouted into a megaphone, breaking the tension and restoring the bustling film set as lighting technicians adjusted their lights, prop masters went about their business, and everyone took their cues.

Nie Yangchen took a sharp breath and retreated a step. When Gu Xiaowei’s gun raised and pointed at him, his expression was not of cold-blooded malice but one of unyielding rejection—casting Nie Yangchen out of this world.

The actor playing Ding Bing was also immersed in the atmosphere. The intensity of the scene earlier had gripped him so much he was about to check on Luo Yu, but Nie Yangchen blocked his path, leading him away instead.

Nie Yangchen understood that at this moment, Gu Xiaowei wouldn’t allow anyone near Luo Yu, even out of compassion.

Having been “shot”, Luo Yu sat up slowly, his chest stained with blood. Gu Xiaowei was already beside him, crouched, helping him to his feet.

“Be careful! I’m covered in tomato sauce!” Luo Yu exclaimed, pushing Gu Xiaowei back to maintain distance.

The outfit the other was wearing would be used in the next scene as well. He was not sure if the director would suddenly ask to shoot any additional shots, and if it gets stained with his “blood,” it would be troublesome.

But who knew that Gu Xiaowei ignored the concern and held him tightly, pressing him into his embrace. The hug felt suffocating, as if their bodies might fuse together.

He originally thought Gu Xiaowei would say something but instead he silently released Luo Yu and got up.

Looking at the time, it was nearly 4:30. A few additional shots needed to be filmed before they descended the mountain.

Ah Yan almost exclaimed while helping Gu Xiaowei touch up his makeup.

“Brother Gu, you have blood on you! We haven’t filmed your scene saving Wen Yuchi yet! The director is going to freak out. What do we do? How do we clean this off?”

But Gu Xiaowei was unusually quiet. He didn’t comfort Ah Yan or apologize, his eyes lowered, and he remained silent.

If he was trying to maintain Lu Pingfeng’s emotional state, his demeanor didn’t show an unapproachable vibe. Instead, the noisier the set, the more he seemed isolated.

The contrast was unsettling, causing a deep tremor in the heart.

No one knew what he was thinking.

They first filmed additional scenes with Ding Bing, Zhuang Chao, and Li Heng. Once his makeup was touched up, Gu Xiaowei held a small box and wandered to the back of the set.

It was the crew’s temporary trash bin area, without lighting. Gu Xiaowei stood in front of the bin, pulling out a cigarette from the box. The sound of a lighter sparked, and the tiny flame illuminated his face slightly.

By day, this man was dignified, but in dim light, he appeared alluringly seductive.

Especially now—without expression, he was still captivating.

Luo Yu walked step by step toward him while Gu Xiaowei remained unaware. He took a drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke lightly. The smoke drifted lazily in front of him, obscuring his features and making it appear faintly hypnotic, hard to interpret.

But Luo Yu reached out and grabbed a handful of the smoke in front of him.

Gu Xiaowei took half a step back, glancing at Luo Yu with what seemed like unwillingness to see him. He murmured, “I’ll only have a few puffs and then join you. Don’t let the director lose track of you—he’ll be angry.”

Though it was a rejection, his voice was low, gentle, and intoxicating, as though the very sound could make one lose themselves.

Luo Yu grabbed Gu Xiaowei’s wrist and looked into his eyes. Every time Gu Xiaowei tried to avoid his gaze, Luo Yu would pull harder, chasing his gaze.

Escaping Luo Yu was simple for Gu Xiaowei, but he never did.

He both wanted Luo Yu to grab him like this and yet avoid his gaze because the longer their eyes met, the harder it was to suppress his own buried desires.

“What are you thinking about?” Luo Yu asked quietly.

You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )

“Why can Lu Pingfeng hold the gun so calmly? Maybe in the next second, he’ll never feel Wen Yuchi’s presence again.” Gu Xiaowei looked at his hand, his fingers trembling faintly as he held the cigarette. “He is so attached to Wen Yuchi’s breathing and heartbeat. Everything else is lifeless, but Wen Yuchi is alive. He should go crazy, trying to grab him, stop the blood, stop it from flowing. But Lu Pingfeng can still keep holding the gun?”

His fingers trembled even more subtly.

“Putting the gun down means Qin Lin would kill Wen Yuchi. Maybe this is extreme protection. To protect someone, you can suppress all emotions, even fear. Holding the gun, he can’t stop Wen Yuchi from bleeding. Putting it down means he can’t protect him. Lu Pingfeng chose to trust Wen Yuchi’s vitality. He chose to pick up the gun to protect him,” Luo Yu said.

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