By the lake, Brother Yan had already set up a small folding table with two folding chairs beside it. On the table was Gu Xiaowei’s thermos, filled with freshly brewed coffee, along with two little cups that Brother Yan had specially brought from the villa.

“Are you two ready to sit down and let our vlog move into the Q&A segment?” Brother Yan asked with a grin.

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

“Coming!” Luo Yu immediately went over and plopped into the small chair, leaning back with such flair he almost tipped over.

Gu Xiaowei, passing by, caught him and pushed him forward. “Be careful. This chair doesn’t have a backrest.”

“Oh, I forgot.”

So they sat down, and Gu Xiaowei opened the thermos, pouring coffee into the two white porcelain cups.

Luo Yu tilted his head back to feel the sunlight, the air faintly tinged with the fragrance of roses.

The scene was so beautiful that Xiao Qin, who was still on a “wedding shoot” kick, began taking more photos from every angle.

Brother Yan held a phone with the topics that Li Qian had prepared for Yan Ye and Bai Ying’s characters.

“Brother Gu, Brother Luo, let’s talk about ‘Counterattack’. We’re curious: when you two first met because of this show, what were your first impressions of each other?” Brother Yan called out.

Luo Yu thought, This question sounds like something a matchmaker would ask after a blind date.

He looked at Gu Xiaowei, tilted his chin up, and said, “You first. What was your impression of me?”

Luo Yu didn’t have much interview experience, so he figured he’d listen to Gu Xiaowei’s “answer style” first.

In a normal interview, Gu Xiaowei would sit up straight and serious, but now he was relaxed, leaning his elbows on his knees with his chin in his hand, glancing at Luo Yu. “Aside from school, I think our first meeting for ‘Counterattack’ was in the elevator. You were going to the audition, still with shoulder-length hair.”

“This baffles me—I was wearing a mask back then, but somehow, you recognized me at a glance.”

“What’s so strange about that? I watched your performance at the school anniversary event, and I was front row for all your end-of-term performances every semester. I’ve watched your ‘Plum Blossom Rain’ countless times—I’m not that blind that I wouldn’t recognize you just because you wore a mask,” Gu Xiaowei replied.

Luo Yu didn’t know how to describe his feelings at that moment: surprised, a little incredulous.

“Hey, if that gets included in the vlog, people will think you’re my fanboy,” Luo Yu muttered, scratching his head, suddenly feeling shy as his ears turned red.

“I am,” Gu Xiaowei said, taking a sip of coffee.

“Are you really admitting that?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Who hasn’t been a fan at some point? Didn’t you used to like Xia Yun too?” Gu Xiaowei said.

In his previous life, Luo Yu had once dragged Gu Xiaowei to a late-night movie showing, choosing a screening with cozy sofa seats.

They had sat together, fully bundled up in masks and scarves, while the other couples on the sofas were huddling close, feeding each other popcorn, even passionately making out. Meanwhile, the two of them were earnestly watching the film.

Back then, Gu Xiaowei knew Luo Yu was a fan of Xia Yun, but in this life, Luo Yu hadn’t invited Gu Xiaowei to watch a Xia Yun film with him.

“How did you know I liked Xia Yun?” Luo Yu was stunned.

“There was a Xia Yun ad playing in the elevator. You stared at it so long that the floor passed by. Aren’t you her fanboy?” Gu Xiaowei asked.

Luo Yu shook his head, sighing, “In front of Teacher Gu’s powers of observation, there are no secrets. But…”

“But what?”

“I’m your fanboy too. I could rewatch your TV dramas and films countless times. I went to the cinema three times to see your film ‘Palace Gates’.”

“My performance in that film wasn’t that great,” Gu Xiaowei reflected earnestly.

A mischievous grin flickered on Luo Yu’s face, a glint of trouble in his eyes.

You’re the one offering this up; I’d be a fool not to take it. “There’s that one scene in the film—with scrolls of hanging paper everywhere. Every time the camera passed between those fluttering paper sheets, we’d catch your dazed expression. And that shot of your bare back was visually impactful too. Liking the former is just human nature; you always look so unattainable at events, so that palace artist’s romance was rare. And for the latter… I’ll admit I was a bit jealous. I always wanted to confirm whether that back of yours is special effects or real.”

Ye Shengyi, who was watching them, couldn’t help but reveal an ‘auntie smile’ along with the others.

This time, Gu Xiaowei’s ears didn’t turn red, and he looked calm, leaning toward Luo Yu and saying, “I don’t know who, when acting out romantic scenes with me, often ‘graciously admits defeat.’ As for whether my back is special effects or all-natural, hasn’t Senior Brother confirmed that several times?”

“Oh my god! When did you guys ever practice romantic scenes? What kind of romantic scenes?” Ye Shengyi was so excited he nearly dropped his phone.

“Nothing much, just during ‘Counterattack,’ I helped read the female lead’s lines and practiced a romantic scene with him.”

“And we teased each other’s romantic acting, so sometimes we’d compete a little.” Gu Xiaowei glanced sideways at Luo Yu, his expression clearly viewing him as a “coward.”

“Well… Mr. Gu’s romantic scenes are actually very delicate, famously…”

“You want to say I can even look at dogs with deep affection again?” Gu Xiaowei said coolly.

“No, no, no,” Luo Yu quickly waved his hands, full of survival instincts, “It’s that you can even look at me with deep affection!”

“Though, to be fair, who told Senior Brother to be a complete bachelor? Always able to woo yourself.” Gu Xiaowei shot him another glance.

Luo Yu thought to himself, failing to flirt back and even getting teased.

Sigh, not skilled enough yet—still need to practice.

Brother Yan seized the moment, “Then let’s talk about the blowing smoke scene! That scene has sparked intense discussion online; the first episode alone stirred up viewers’ emotions! Many viewers are curious about how you two felt while filming that scene!”

Gu Xiaowei looked at Luo Yu, gesturing for him to go ahead, “For that scene, I was completely in the dark. It was a conspiracy between Senior Brother and Director Lin.”

Mentioning this, Luo Yu’s words flowed, “I was called over by Director Lin to look at the freshly revised script by Screenwriter Hua; it was thrilling and fresh, making me incredibly nervous. I asked the director if we should discuss it with Teacher Gu, and the director said they wanted Teacher Gu’s most natural reaction.”

“In other words, you wanted to ‘scare’ me, right?” Gu Xiaowei raised his eyebrows, clearly saying, “I know you guys too well.”

“The one scared was me! A grown man, suddenly getting close to you; the moment I grabbed your collar, I worried you’d snap my wrist! The director demanded speed and precision. If my fist was off target or missed your mouth, wouldn’t I be blowing smoke in your face? If you pushed me away, the scene would have bombed. It was meant to be a sudden ambush, quick and intense, with no chance for a retake!” Luo Yu’s eyebrows rose high. Normally gentle in speech and demeanor, he came alive talking about that scene.

“Oh, thankfully it was you.” Gu Xiaowei smiled a bit.

“If it wasn’t me, you wouldn’t have managed to stay in character?” Luo Yu asked.

“If it wasn’t you, I’d have thrown them over my shoulder.” Gu Xiaowei said.

“Thank you for sparing me,” Luo Yu clasped his hands in gratitude.

The temporary host, Brother Yan, kept the conversation going, “So, for both of you, were there any dangerous or particularly cautious parts during filming?”

Luo Yu tilted his head, thinking carefully, “For me, it’s probably the action scenes. If I can’t stop in time, I might injure other actors. Also, Bai Ying’s character always appears well-dressed, often in dress pants. I’m constantly worried my pants will tear during scenes involving kicking.”

After he finished speaking, everyone laughed, and thinking about it, they realized how awkward Luo Yu must have felt.

“And what about you, Brother Gu? Do you also think fight scenes are dangerous?” Brother Yan asked.

Gu Xiaowei lowered his eyes, picked up his porcelain cup but put it down again.

“For me, the dangerous part was the underwater scenes,” Gu Xiaowei said.

“Underwater scenes? You mean the one where I was thrown into the sewer by the enemy, nearly drowning?”

“Yes. Your struggling in the water looked so… so real. Every time I watched from the top, I felt the urge to jump in and save you, afraid that a second’s delay might be too late.” Gu Xiaowei’s voice was slightly more somber.

“I can swim; my breathing is good too,” Luo Yu chuckled.

Gu Xiaowei looked at him, with a familiar depth in his eyes, “Sometimes, when danger comes, no matter what you can do, you can’t resist death.”

Luo Yu’s fingertips instinctively trembled, recalling his previous life’s plunge into the river, sinking with his van into the water.

The river engulfed him; knowing how to breathe and swim didn’t change the outcome.

“Especially when my character Yan Ye jumped in, and your Bai Ying character was almost losing consciousness… I couldn’t tell if it was acting or real, and I quickly supported you to the surface. I was afraid… something might truly happen. That’s a price I couldn’t bear,” Gu Xiaowei said.

Luo Yu’s heart warmed. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t just improv; Gu Xiaowei was genuinely worried, lifting him to ensure he wasn’t truly drowning.

“That scene was iconic! There are several edited versions of it online. It’s also the real beginning of mutual trust between Yan Ye and Bai Ying!” Xiao Qin, a member of the fan community, chimed in.

“Hahaha, tonight’s episode of ‘Counterattack’ will enter a high-energy part. If we keep talking, we’ll spoil it. How about you two evaluate each other’s acting skills?” Brother Yan suggested.

Tonight’s high-energy part would show Bai Ying sacrificing himself to save Yan Ye, so they couldn’t discuss it further.

Luo Yu took a deep breath, “Let me talk about Teacher Gu first. My vocabulary for compliments is limited, so I can only express my feelings in simple words.”

Gu Xiaowei looked at Luo Yu, his face expressionless, but his words almost made Luo Yu choke.

“How about I princess carry you while doing squats, to stimulate Senior Brother’s inspiration?”

This immediately brought up memories of their trending moment while filming “Burn, Little Cosmos”!

“No, no, no! No need!” Luo Yu quickly waved his hands, “I can do it!”

Xiao Qin and the others burst into laughter, joking about how many inside jokes Brother Gu and Brother Luo shared.

“Teacher Gu is an actor who deeply empathizes with his characters; every reaction, tone, and expression is shaped by the character. Acting with him makes me feel like I truly become Bai Ying, feeling his joys and sorrows, even his fierce struggle to escape the mire. He’s an actor who brings out the best in others.”

Luo Yu gestured to Gu Xiaowei to show he’d finished.

“Is that it?” Gu Xiaowei tilted his head, eyebrows raised, clearly dissatisfied.

Xiao Qin immediately picked up on Gu Xiaowei’s dissatisfaction, laughing, “Brother Luo, that evaluation sounds too formal, like you’re reciting an apology letter!”

Brother Yan joined in, “Exactly, this isn’t a parent-teacher meeting! Loosen up a bit!”

Luo Yu scratched his head in frustration, “Alright, alright, I’ll loosen up… Seeing Yan Ye fight for Bai Ying makes me feel accomplished, like I truly tamed a wolf. This wolf is wild but willing to hunt for me. Bai Ying, more perceptive than anyone, long sees through human nature, and everyone around him is there for benefits or power. Only Yan Ye’s wolfishness feels real, embodying the freedom he truly admires. For him, whether Yan Ye is an undercover cop or why he approached doesn’t matter. Bai Ying admires Yan Ye, wants to become Yan Ye, and he’ll do anything to fulfill Yan Ye’s journey, and in that way he fulfills himself.”

Luo Yu paused, looking at Gu Xiaowei, conveying not only Bai Ying’s view of Yan Ye but also his own feelings towards Gu Xiaowei.

Do you understand, Gu Xiaowei?

“Yan Ye is Bai Ying’s hope. If anyone else played the role, I wouldn’t feel such strong longing and desire. Gu Xiaowei’s Yan Ye is unique and irreplaceable. His performance forged a spiritual bond between Yan Ye and Bai Ying, giving them a fateful connection that resonates with the audience.”

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

A genuine smile finally appeared on Gu Xiaowei’s face, “I hope I’m also unique to Senior Brother.”

A breeze passed, bending the reeds, while the sea of roses swayed behind them, and Luo Yu’s heart rippled, unable to calm.

This guy… is he talking about “unique” acting skills, or something else? 

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“Perfect! Perfect! Fans love these kinds of relatable, down-to-earth questions!” Ye Shengyi set his chicken wings aside, eagerly sharing his opinion.

Brother Yan reminded, “Even if neither of you are wearing makeup, remember to put on sunscreen. The sun’s really strong today.”

“Got it!”

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

After lunch, the two of them exited the villa to begin filming the day’s vlog.

Ye Shengyi held up his phone, excitedly introducing, “Today, I’m honored to film a vlog with Teacher Gu and Teacher Luo to commemorate ‘Counterattack’ staying at the top of the ratings for a week! Let’s show the audience what these two are like in everyday life!”

Before he could finish, Gu Xiaowei and Luo Yu had already spotted two free bicycles by the roadside and hopped on.

Both wore white T-shirts and baseball caps, making it nearly impossible to tell them apart from the back.

“Why are you guys going off the beaten path? Wait for me! I need to find a bike too!”

“Then hurry up! We’re not waiting!” Luo Yu turned his head and laughed, a smile reminiscent of a scene from “Plum Blossom Rain”.

Except this time, Gu Xiaowei was riding right beside him.

Ye Shengyi mounted his phone on the bike’s handlebars and quickly followed.

“Look at me—I can ride with no hands; can you?” Luo Yu knew of Gu Xiaowei’s competitive streak and wanted to show off a little. He spread his arms, casting a challenging grin in Gu Xiaowei’s direction.

But Gu Xiaowei wasn’t impressed, only saying, “Safety first.”

Just as he said this, Luo Yu’s front wheel hit a small rock, making him nearly topple over.

In a flash, Gu Xiaowei veered over, balancing with one foot on the ground, and reached out to steady Luo Yu.

The bicycle fell to the ground, its wheels spinning with a whirring sound. Luo Yu barely realized what happened when he heard Gu Xiaowei’s voice in his ear, “Is this what you meant by ‘no hands’? Just wanted me to hold you, didn’t you?”

“Uh…” Luo Yu glanced back at Ye Shengyi, who was filming with enthusiasm. “Make sure to cut this part, okay? Cut it!”

Ye Shengyi muttered behind him, “No way!”

This was prime footage; what else would the audience watch if they cut out the good stuff?

Luo Yu got back on his bike and chased after Gu Xiaowei, while roses bloomed on their right, light and shadow dappling across their backs.

Gu Xiaowei acted like he was ignoring Luo Yu, clearly expressing his displeasure.

Feeling a bit guilty, Luo Yu knew he had to coax his younger friend. He tried to grab Gu Xiaowei’s hoodie from behind.

But just as he reached out, Gu Xiaowei suddenly braked, making Luo Yu crash right into his back.

The impact was like a boiled egg hitting a rock—enough to crack the shell.

“Gu Xiaowei—you did that on purpose!” Luo Yu held his nose, steadying himself.

Gu Xiaowei turned to him leisurely, saying bluntly, “Yeah, I did.”

The implication: What are you gonna do about it?

Remembering that Gu Xiaowei held a seventh-degree black belt, Luo Yu wisely decided to turn his handlebars and ride past him.

“Are you mad?” Gu Xiaowei followed.

“No.”

“But I think you are.”

Following behind, Ye Shengyi felt exasperated. “Gentlemen, are you sure you want your fans to hear such childish banter?”

To his surprise, both turned to the camera.

“Why not?” Luo Yu laughed, “Fans would love to see Teacher Gu’s childish side.”

“No problem,” Gu Xiaowei lifted his chin slightly, “I’ll give him plenty of face.”

“Who wants your face?”

By this time, Luo Yu had ridden far ahead, while Gu Xiaowei bent down to search for something under the rose trellis.

Ye Shengyi was about to get closer for a shot when Gu Xiaowei hopped back on his bike to chase after Luo Yu.

“Senior Brother—”

Under the bright sun, amid blooming roses, Gu Xiaowei’s normally cool voice sounded warm and soft, carrying a faint hint of affection when recorded.

“En?”

Luo Yu looked back just as Gu Xiaowei extended his hand, scattering rose petals over Luo Yu’s head.

“Ah…” Luo Yu tilted his head back, sunlight outlining his jawline, casting a soft halo where it turned.

Petals settled on his hat, shoulders, and collar, creating a moment of delicate beauty usually seen only in romance dramas.

Ye Shengyi was left stunned, not just by the captivating contrast between Luo Yu’s masculine presence and the softness of the rose petals, but by Gu Xiaowei’s gaze—focused, tender, and profound.

Yet, before Ye Shengyi could fully process it, Gu Xiaowei had already ridden away.

Luo Yu quickly chased after him, calling loudly, “Just wait—I’ll find a foxtail and stuff it down your collar!”

“Good luck finding one.”

They didn’t find any foxtails, but when they arrived by the lake, they spotted a sea of red-brown reeds.

“Wow… when the wind blows, it looks like a wheat field.”

Luo Yu stopped his bike and walked in.

Trailing behind, Ye Shengyi called out, “Teacher Gu—how about a 4.0 or 5.0 photoshoot?”

Just then, Xiao Qin and Brother Yan arrived, having set up afternoon tea by the lakeside.

Gu Xiaowei looked over at Xiao Qin, saying, “I’ll skip it. How about Xiao Qin take some pictures of me and Senior Brother?”

Luo Yu nodded enthusiastically, “I haven’t taken many photos with Teacher Gu aside from on-set shots!”

“Then I’ll capture some candid ones! You two just act natural!”

“What counts as acting natural?”

Pretending to think about it, Luo Yu moved closer to Gu Xiaowei, just as he was about to try lifting him up, Gu Xiaowei suddenly stopped him, hoisting Luo Yu onto his own shoulder instead.

“What the—Gu Xiaowei, put me down!”

“Senior Brother, your acting is terrible.”

Looking up, Gu Xiaowei gazed at Luo Yu, his eyes bright with laughter.

In that moment, it was as if all of the brooding of his character, Lu Pingfeng, vanished.

Luo Yu rested his hands on Gu Xiaowei’s shoulders, finding this view of him strangely exhilarating, as if he were Gu Xiaowei’s god, holding the power to control his every emotion.

Xiao Qin went on a photo-snapping frenzy.

“My acting is bad? How?”

“Whenever you plan to do something mischievous, I can tell.” Gu Xiaowei’s smile held a mature ease.

“That’s impossible. When I’m truly being bad, you’d never know.”

Like when I clumsily try to provoke you—you remain so composed, never as stirred as I am.

“Being bad? What would that look like?”

With that, Gu Xiaowei gave Luo Yu a playful jostle, his strength impressively steady despite looking so thin.

Luo Yu wrapped one arm around Gu Xiaowei’s neck and plucked a reed to tickle him.

“Do you think I’m being bad now?”

Expecting him to let go, Luo Yu was surprised when Gu Xiaowei didn’t even flinch, instead shifting his grip as he lowered them both into the reeds.

Xiao Qin froze, capturing the shot, struck by the look in Gu Xiaowei’s eyes—a yearning as intense as a moth drawn to flame.

When Luo Yu’s back hit the thick reeds, he didn’t feel any pain.

Opening his eyes, he saw Gu Xiaowei’s arms braced beside his head, completely enveloping him.

“Take it out.”

The tone was commanding yet coaxing.

“Take… what out?”

“The reed you stuffed in my collar.”

Gu Xiaowei leaned in closer.

Luo Yu tilted his head, laughing, as he tugged at Gu Xiaowei’s collar without actually retrieving the reed. “Ticklish?”

Holding his position, Gu Xiaowei replied plainly, “Yes.”

Direct, clear, without any hint of ambiguity—yet Luo Yu felt the reed was no longer under Gu Xiaowei’s collar, but pressing into his own heart.

He slowly pulled the reed from Gu Xiaowei’s collar.

The reed brushed down Gu Xiaowei’s back, causing a slight twitch. “You did that on purpose.”

Luo Yu’s wrist was caught by Gu Xiaowei’s hand.

“What did I do on purpose?”

“Tickling me with the reed.”

Then Gu Xiaowei pulled him up.

A wave of disappointment swept over Luo Yu—it was rare for them to be so close, and he hadn’t even managed to do anything to fluster Gu Xiaowei.

As Gu Xiaowei helped him to his feet, Luo Yu mischievously yanked, trying to tip Gu Xiaowei onto him.

Who knew… could it be that Gu Xiaowei was a mountain reincarnated? With all the strength Luo Yu was using to pull him, Gu Xiaowei was still steady as a rock—truly… so oblivious!

Luo Yu never imagined he’d one day describe someone else as “oblivious.” According to Sister Cui, wasn’t “oblivious” supposed to be Luo Yu’s own label?

“Be careful.”

As Gu Xiaowei pulled Luo Yu back, he placed his other hand on Luo Yu’s back—probably to prevent him from falling again—drawing him into his arms.

The wind blew gently, and a soft rustling sound came from nearby, as if something was brushing against the gaps in their hearts.

“Thank you,” Luo Yu murmured as he leaned into the crook of Gu Xiaowei’s neck.

His breath brushed over Gu Xiaowei’s skin. Luo Yu was waiting for Gu Xiaowei to turn his face away, but instead, Gu Xiaowei leaned his cheek towards Luo Yu. Only after Luo Yu regained his balance did Gu Xiaowei let him go.

“Are you fine now?”

“I’m fine.”

Gu Xiaowei’s ears were tinged with pink as he looked away from Luo Yu and turned toward Xiao Qin.

Xiao Qin and Ye Shengyi pushed through the reeds, walking toward them.

“Brother Gu! Brother Luo! You suddenly fell into the reeds! I thought you were planning to burrow into them!” Ye Shengyi shouted.

The words “burrow into the reeds” made Luo Yu’s heart race, as if the seal on a box had been torn open. He was reminded of that night when he and Gu Xiaowei had overheard secret rendezvous murmurs under the shadow of the rose trellis, feeling a tugging at his heart.

But Xiao Qin laughed cheerfully and said, “Why not? This reed bed is no less photogenic than the rose trellis—it’ll make some amazing shots!”

Saying this, Xiao Qin proudly handed her phone to Gu Xiaowei. “Brother Gu, check out this candid shot I captured! Isn’t it great?”

Gu Xiaowei took the phone, and Luo Yu leaned over to look. The screen showed the moment when Gu Xiaowei had lifted Luo Yu up, with Luo Yu’s hands clasped around Gu Xiaowei’s shoulders.

The reeds, bending in the wind, cast soft shadows over them both. Gu Xiaowei was looking up at Luo Yu with a clear smile, while Luo Yu looked visibly surprised.

“Not bad,” Gu Xiaowei said, flipping through more photos.

“What’s so ‘not bad’ about it? Is this an idol drama?” Luo Yu shot Gu Xiaowei a glance and nudged him with his elbow. “Looks like a wedding shoot; people might even think we’re on a honeymoon!”

He waited for Gu Xiaowei to refute this, maybe saying something in a pretend serious way like, “Who’s wearing a wedding dress here?” or “There’s no kissing, so where’s the wedding photo vibe?” But Gu Xiaowei, without hesitation, handed the phone back to Xiao Qin and said something that almost made her jump with excitement.

“Save my wedding photos; they need a bit of retouching before posting.”

Luo Yu froze. This guy didn’t even bother to find an excuse; he just went with it. For the first time, Luo Yu couldn’t figure out what was going on in his mind.

Is he really that open-hearted? Or is he covering up something?

Then why were his ears blushing earlier?

As Luo Yu walked behind Gu Xiaowei out of the reed bed, he suddenly regretted not noticing him back in film school. If they had been closer back then, had meals together, or joined in on school activities, wouldn’t that have been nice?

But Luo Yu quickly dismissed these unrealistic thoughts.

After all, after “Plum Blossom Rain, Luo Yu had frequently gone out for auditions and shoots, and Gu Xiaowei had also started his career during university. The chances of them running into each other on campus had been slim.

Just then, Luo Yu realized he hadn’t gotten smacked in the face by reeds much at all, because Gu Xiaowei was walking ahead, bending them down as he went.

Luo Yu chuckled, then walked up behind him and, like he would with his old dorm mates, draped his arms over Gu Xiaowei’s shoulders and lightly hopped up.

He only meant to tip him forward a bit, but Gu Xiaowei went along with it and hooked Luo Yu’s legs, giving him a piggyback.

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

“I didn’t—”

“Hmm?”

I didn’t mean for you to carry me.

But since you already are, you might as well keep going.

When they emerged from the reeds, Gu Xiaowei set Luo Yu down.

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“Of course we’re eating,” Gu Xiaowei replied. “We’ll be down after we freshen up. Don’t wait for us.”

“Right, take your time! I just confirmed with the crew. Due to the weather, your scenes this afternoon have been rescheduled for tomorrow. They’ll be filming Zhao Sicheng and Agent Ai Lin’s storyline in the sunshine instead.”

Hearing that, Luo Yu felt no rush to get ready for the afternoon shoot.

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

“The sun is so nice today—shall we do something fun?” Gu Xiaowei suggested.

“What made you think of that?” Luo Yu asked curiously.

“‘Counterattack’ has held the top rating spot for days since airing, especially with the focus on Yan Ye and Bai Ying. Mr. Li suggested a joint activity with you. Since we’re filming, we can’t do anything complicated, but…”

At that, Luo Yu brightened up. “I’m game! What do you have in mind?”

“I mentioned to Sister Cui that I wanted to film a vlog with you. Going somewhere far is impractical, so how about we explore this resort?” Gu Xiaowei suggested.

“Sounds great! We haven’t really toured it during the day. Plus, introducing the place would be a nice way to thank the film’s sponsor.”

Gu Xiaowei ruffled Luo Yu’s hair. “Then let’s freshen up and eat while the sunlight’s still good.”

Luo Yu covered his head, protesting, “I’m your senior brother! How can you just mess with my hair?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Gu Xiaowei looked back with a smile. “Then why don’t you mess with mine?”

As he bent down to look for his slippers, Luo Yu pounced on him, clinging to his shoulders. His laughter echoed in Gu Xiaowei’s ear.

“I’m definitely going to mess with it! Watch as I turn your hair into a bird’s nest!”

Gu Xiaowei hooked an arm around Luo Yu’s legs and lifted him up effortlessly, carrying him out of the room and down the stairs, where the others were just about to start lunch. “Luo Yu and I are going out to film a casual vlog this afternoon—any volunteers for cameraman?”

“Me!”

“Me, me!”

“Count me in!”

Brother Yan, Xiao Qin, and Ye Shengyi all raised their hands simultaneously.

“Rock-paper-scissors it is, then,” Gu Xiaowei said, carrying Luo Yu back into their room and tossing him gently onto the bed. Leaning over him, he asked, “Still want to play?”

But his gaze held a hint of a threat.

Luo Yu quickly shook his head. “No more! Brushing teeth, washing up, lunch!”

“Good.”

Only then did Gu Xiaowei leave for his room.

As soon as he was gone, Luo Yu turned to the side, a smile tugging at his lips.

Downstairs, the rock-paper-scissors battle was intense, with Ye Shengyi ultimately winning and cheering, “I won—”

Brother Yan sighed, looking at his hand. “Teach a pupil, starve the master, huh?”

“No worries. Even if we’re not the cameraman, we can still make a cameo, right?” Xiao Qin added, bringing everyone’s spirits back up.

Luo Yu walked into the bathroom, and just as he squeezed the toothpaste in hand, he paused and looked at himself in the mirror.

The stubble on his chin was even more visible. He hadn’t shaved because the director wanted to show Wen Yuchi’s exhaustion from consecutive all-nighters.

But now, well-rested, Luo Yu looked far from exhausted. Instead, he only seemed a bit rugged, with a rebellious air. Trying on a cold stare, he admired himself from different angles.

“What are you staring at?” Gu Xiaowei’s voice sounded from behind.

“I think… I could totally play a wandering master swordsman type,” Luo Yu turned with a serious look. “You know, sword jn hand, poetry and wine, a free spirit… What do you think?”

Leaning against the bathroom door, Gu Xiaowei studied him seriously, then shook his head. “Not a good fit.”

“Why not?”

“It’d be prickly to kiss.”

Gu Xiaowei’s tone was completely matter-of-fact, which made Luo Yu grin mischievously. Taking the opportunity provided, he walked right up to Gu Xiaowei, rubbing his stubbly chin against him.

“Prickly? Teacher Gu, tell me if it’s prickly. Help me remember—do I have a kissing scene in this film? Who am I supposed to kiss? Who?”

Luo Yu continued to lean in with every word.

For once, there was a clear glint of humor in Gu Xiaowei’s eyes. Had he disliked the contact, he would’ve immediately stepped back, but he stayed put, allowing Luo Yu’s stubble to brush his cheek.

Not wanting to actually hurt him, Luo Yu pulled back slightly—only for Gu Xiaowei to grip the back of his head and press his chin firmly against his face.

“Hey! Did it hurt?” Luo Yu asked, pushing him away.

Covering Luo Yu’s chin with his palm, Gu Xiaowei stroked it lightly, murmuring, “Feels like a kiwi. Quite amusing.”

“Amusing? What’s so amusing about it? I grew this myself!”

“So, are you going to film the vlog with that… rustic hero look, Mr. Luo Yu?”

Luo Yu, seeing Gu Xiaowei’s devilish grin, muttered, “Fine! I’ll shave it off!”

As he applied shaving foam, reaching for his razor, Gu Xiaowei stepped in. “Let me.”

“No thanks; I grew it, I’ll shave it.” Luo Yu’s male pride had been slightly bruised by the “kiwi” comment.

“Let me do it—I want to experience this ‘hard-earned growth’ for myself.” Gu Xiaowei took the razor, and as Luo Yu tilted his head up, his Adam’s apple stretched in a graceful curve, making Gu Xiaowei want to hide it away.

Luo Yu was secretly delighted to have Gu Xiaowei so close, so he put on a pretense and patted his waist in a patronizing manner, “Fine, your chance to serve me. But if you fail, I’ll banish you to—hey! Gu Xiaowei, what are you doing?!”

Gu Xiaowei had just pinched his waist hard, making him almost jump.

“Your Majesty, where would you banish me?” Gu Xiaowei asked with a wicked grin.

Luo Yu tilted his chin obediently, covering his waist protectively. “Well, not to scrub chamber pots. Originally you could have slept by the head of my bed but now it is only at the foot of my bed.”

“Oh? Your Majesty doesn’t need my arm as a pillow?”

“Tch!”

The buzzing sound of the razor began, and Gu Xiaowei lowered his eyes, carefully shaving Luo Yu’s chin from bottom to top, stroke by stroke. 

His pressure was just right; Luo Yu could feel the razor moving across without any hint of threat. Instead, he squinted his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

Gu Xiaowei looked at the person in front of him, his hand originally resting on Luo Yu’s nape, but he couldn’t resist adjusting Luo Yu’s chin higher, tilting it to a more kissable angle.

“Done yet?” Luo Yu asked, completely unguarded towards him.

“All done.” Gu Xiaowei’s dark gaze gradually brightened as he grabbed a face towel, dampening it to clean off the remaining lather on Luo Yu’s chin.

I really want… to keep this person forever.

Luo Yu took the face towel, rubbed his chin in front of the mirror, and, satisfied, said, “So clean! I feel refreshed—no more worries about scratching my partner during a kiss!”

Gu Xiaowei chuckled, reaching for his aftershave on the shelf and handing it to Luo Yu. “Don’t forget to use this.”

“Got it.”

Luo Yu unscrewed the cap, and the scent of Pure Colour filled the air, making his heart inexplicably tense. The cool sensation of the aftershave on his face gave way to a gentle warmth, and the lingering scent around him felt as though he were wrapped up in Gu Xiaowei’s presence.

He placed the aftershave back on the shelf and smiled to himself.

After finishing his grooming, he walked into the wardrobe he shared with Gu Xiaowei, rubbing his chin as he pondered.

He’d never recorded a vlog before. Should he get Ye Shengyi to style him for a fashionable look, or keep it casual?

“What are you daydreaming about now?” Gu Xiaowei asked.

“Ah, my personal stylist, Mr. Gu Xiaowei, has arrived! Tell me, Teacher Gu, what should I wear to record a vlog today?”

“The usual three-piece.” Gu Xiaowei walked into the closet, grabbed a hoodie, and was about to turn away.

“My usual three-piece? What’s that?”

“Wide-shoulder white T-shirt, casual pants, and sneakers.”

“Might as well tell me to wear a grandpa tank, beach shorts, and flip-flops!”

“If you insist on that, once our vlog airs, there might be a shopping frenzy for twelve-yuan grandpa tanks with free shipping.”

With that, Gu Xiaowei pulled off his pajamas in front of Luo Yu, revealing his enviably fit physique.

Though they’d swum together before, Luo Yu’s gaze was still drawn to him, feeling like he’d been burned.

By the time he looked up again, Gu Xiaowei had already slipped on the hoodie and was now bending over to take off his pajama pants without a second thought.

Luo Yu felt trapped in the space, with Gu Xiaowei’s masculine presence blocking every exit.

Gu Xiaowei grabbed a pair of track pants and slipped them on with ease.

“What are you staring at?” Gu Xiaowei took a silver-and-black patterned cap and put it on Luo Yu’s head.

“Your legs are so long,” Luo Yu said.

Gu Xiaowei tapped the brim of the cap lightly. “Yours are more practical.”

When Luo Yu lifted the brim, Gu Xiaowei was already walking out.

“Why are mine more practical?”

Luo Yu ran through the script in his head, finding no part related to leg length.

He put on his T-shirt and casual pants, then headed downstairs for lunch with everyone.

“Brother Luo, you really scared me last night,” Ye Shengyi spoke up.

“Sorry. The scenes I’ve been working on have me on edge, and I had a nightmare.”

“You were calling Brother Gu’s name really loudly. I thought there was an intruder in your room!” Ye Shengyi said, biting into a chicken wing.

“If there was an intruder, I’d be screaming for help.”

Recalling the dream sent another chill down Luo Yu’s spine.

Next to him, Gu Xiaowei scooped some mapo tofu onto Luo Yu’s plate. “Whatever you dreamed of, it won’t happen in real life.”

Luo Yu muttered, “You’re quite confident.”

“Because I refuse to accept otherwise.”

“Refuse to accept?”

“I’m getting closer to my goal. I won’t accept defeat until I reach it.”

“And once you do, you’ll be content?” Luo Yu teased.

“When I reach it, I’ll want even more.” Gu Xiaowei replied.

“So what is your goal, Brother Gu? The Best Actor Yunwen Award?” Xiao Qin asked curiously.

“Or the Qilin Award?” Brother Yan chimed in.

“I’ll tell you once I get there.”

Luo Yu laughed. “Alright, even Teacher Gu has a thousand and one goals!”

“Now, let’s plan what to film for the vlog. This resort has beautiful scenery, but if you two just stroll around with no theme, fans might get bored,” Xiao Qin suggested.

“Mr. Li said to keep it simple. As long as Luo Yu and I appear together, fans of Yan Ye and Bai Ying will enjoy it. Just preparing a few questions should be enough.” Gu Xiaowei looked at Luo Yu. “You can ask anything you’d like.”

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

“Anything?” Luo Yu asked with a playful smile.

“The most you’ll ask is how old I was when I had my first crush or if I’ve had my first kiss. Or should I give you an official bio?” Gu Xiaowei teased.

“Are we having a job interview or a matchmaking session?” Luo Yu laughed even harder, thinking, if I asked you to marry me, could you promise not to hit me?

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After finishing the scene, everyone could finally rest. It was already three in the morning, and to their surprise, the crew had prepared a late-night snack. Although it was just simple hot noodle soup, the sound of slurping noodles echoed one after another, and the fragrance of scallions and eggs whetted everyone’s appetite.

Luo Yu scooped a bowl and was about to dig in, slurping away. Even Ye Shengyi and Brother Yan, who had been staying up with them for the night shoot, were eating heartily, but Gu Xiaowei quietly sat outside the crowd, looking down at his script.

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

A staff member passing by kindly asked, “Teacher Gu, aren’t you going to eat something?”

“No, thanks.”

Luo Yu sighed helplessly, brought his bowl over to Gu Xiaowei’s side, and gently nudged him with his elbow. “Eat a bit.”

“It’s the middle of the night. If I eat now and then go straight to sleep, I won’t burn it off.”

Luo Yu leaned in to examine him closely.

Gu Xiaowei asked, “What are you looking at? Is there something on my face?”

“You’re already skinny enough, gloomy enough, and sickly enough. You can showcase those traits with your acting skills—you don’t need hollow cheeks or an overly sharp jawline. It’s fine if you skip the noodles, but can’t you at least eat an egg?”

Luo Yu picked up an egg, blew on it gently, held the bowl underneath it, and brought it to Gu Xiaowei’s lips.

“You already had a piece of roll earlier. Adding an egg won’t make much difference.”

Gu Xiaowei’s fingers tightened slightly around the script. He opened his mouth, and the egg slipped in. He looked up and met Luo Yu’s smile.

“Have a bite of some greens, too.” Luo Yu picked up a tender bit of vegetable and offered it to him.

Gu Xiaowei ate it as well.

Brother Yan and Ye Shengyi looked at Luo Yu with admiration.

“Brother Gu is so well-behaved in front of Brother Luo,” Ye Shengyi sighed.

“Who says he isn’t?” Brother Yan imagined it. “If some entertainment account posted a photo of them now online, I can’t even imagine the trending headline.”

“The man who makes Gu Xiaowei listen obediently—Luo Yu?”

“Too long. How about #GoodBoy?” Brother Yan suggested.

“Forget it. It’d shoot up the trending list only to be taken down by Meng Yu.” Ye Shengyi imagined the headline disappearing as soon as it appeared.

After finishing the noodles, they wrapped up for the night. They could finally rest in the morning, resuming filming in the afternoon.

On the way back, Luo Yu was already dozing off, and as soon as they reached the villa, Gu Xiaowei told him to shower first.

He nearly fell asleep while drying his hair, collapsing into bed and falling asleep as soon as he pulled up the duvet.

Perhaps the late filming or the intensity of the scenes had affected him, but although Luo Yu was asleep, he found himself in an inexplicable dream.

He saw Gu Xiaowei standing on the rooftop, his face illuminated by bright sunlight. He had his eyes closed, tilting his face upward, light glinting off his nose, his hair slightly lifted, relaxed and free, like a feather with no weight.

This version of Gu Xiaowei was beautiful. Luo Yu approached, wanting to embrace him.

But just a step away, an invisible wall separated them. Luo Yu could only watch as Gu Xiaowei stepped onto the edge of the rooftop.

He smiled into the sunlight—a smile so unburdened that Luo Yu had never seen before.

Yet at that moment, a tidal wave of fear surged within Luo Yu’s heart. Gu Xiaowei strolled along the edge of the rooftop as if walking on clouds, the wind rushing past his ears, like a rose blooming to its utmost, about to be plucked.

“Gu Xiaowei—Gu Xiaowei, come back—”

Luo Yu shouted, but the other seemed to hear nothing.

The golden sunlight was so warm, yet a chill spread from Luo Yu’s blood to his bones. He pounded on the invisible wall but couldn’t reach Gu Xiaowei’s world.

Gu Xiaowei’s left foot lifted, ready to step off the rooftop. His arms hung naturally at his sides, fully relaxed, indifferent to the impending fall.

“No… No… Come back, Gu Xiaowei! I’m telling you to come back!”

Luo Yu felt like he was losing his mind. For the first time, he experienced a gut-wrenching sensation, watching as Gu Xiaowei crossed the boundary and fell.

“Gu Xiaowei—”

At that moment, Luo Yu realized that he wasn’t afraid of Gu Xiaowei’s death. What he feared was that when his flesh and blood crashed against the ground, he wouldn’t be there with him.

“Ahhhh—Gu Xiaowei—”

“I’m here! I’m here! Luo Yu, open your eyes! Look at me! I’m here!”

A familiar voice yanked Luo Yu back.

He opened his eyes with a jolt, staring into a pair of eyes full of worry and tension.

He took a deep breath, Gu Xiaowei’s scent filling his lungs, and the solidity of his embrace chased away his panic.

Turning around, he wrapped his arms around Gu Xiaowei’s neck. Gu Xiaowei, caught off guard, teetered back, but quickly stabilized himself, pressing his cheek against Luo Yu’s ear, letting him feel his warmth.

“It’s okay, Senior Brother. It’s okay. You had a nightmare.”

The words “senior brother” gave Luo Yu a sense of security he had never felt before, reassuring him that the person who came wasn’t Lu Pingfeng, but Gu Xiaowei.

Just then, Ye Shengyi and Brother Yan rushed over. And through Luo Yu’s open door, they saw the two holding each other tightly.

“Brother Luo! What happened? You shouted so loud!” Ye Shengyi asked.

“Yeah! You scared us!” Brother Yan was also deeply concerned.

Gu Xiaowei turned to them and said, “It’s okay, you two go back to sleep. Luo Yu just had a nightmare.”

“A nightmare?” Ye Shengyi tilted his head, then pouted, “Then why did you only call Brother Gu’s name—I’d come to save you too!”

Brother Yan gave him a playful slap on the head. “What are you thinking? Go back to sleep!”

Ye Shengyi and Brother Yan left, but Luo Yu still clung tightly to Gu Xiaowei.

From the moment he realized it was just a dream, his emotions had already calmed. But being able to hold Gu Xiaowei like this, he naturally wanted to hold on as long as he could.

So, this is what Gu Xiaowei’s shoulder feels like.

Luo Yu felt like a schoolboy, secretly crushing on his deskmate, filled with little schemes to touch him—even just a tap on his fingernail would bring delight. Let alone this blatant embrace.

He waited for Gu Xiaowei to impatiently push him away, but a few minutes passed, and not only did Gu Xiaowei let him hold on, but his arms around Luo Yu stayed just as firm.

“Did you dream of me?” Gu Xiaowei asked softly.

In his voice, everything became soft and surreal.

“I dreamed that you fell from the rooftop,” Luo Yu muttered.

Gu Xiaowei’s brows furrowed deeply, his embrace tightening instinctively.

“I’m sorry… If it wasn’t for what I said to you that night… you wouldn’t have had that dream…”

After a long silence, Luo Yu finally spoke, “Gu Xiaowei, the person you envisioned must’ve been perfect. I’m grateful for your fantasy—at least he kept you from falling. This isn’t something I can do…”

Gu Xiaowei was about to say something, but Luo Yu continued, “But I am your only rival. I am real—I’d be willing to fall with you.”

With a sudden pause in breath and heartbeat, Gu Xiaowei gently lowered Luo Yu back onto the bed in their embrace. “If you’re there, I guarantee I won’t fall.”

Without you, I would crash into the world with no regard for anything.

But for you, I’ll fight against everything, even myself.

Hearing Gu Xiaowei’s promise, Luo Yu’s taut nerves relaxed. His arms loosened, and he didn’t know how to ask Gu Xiaowei to stay. To his surprise, Gu Xiaowei lay down beside him, gently brushing his fingers through Luo Yu’s hair. “Sleep now, I’ll be right here. I won’t go anywhere.”

Luo Yu gave a soft “en” as his breathing slowed, and he drifted back to sleep.

Far off, the sky was gradually lightening, a gentle glow falling over the distant rose trellis, blossoming with a touch of innocent beauty.

Gu Xiaowei lay on his side, watching him.

He had awakened countless times from nightmares, thinking he was the only one who would panic over loss. But tonight, he had heard his name called just as desperately. Even the coldest heart would soften at such a moment.

Suddenly, he thought about when Luo Yu stuffed the roll into his mouth today. His fingertips were like a match striking, igniting a spark with remarkable skill. Yet, he hadn’t managed to bite down hard on him and punish him for showing up uninvited.

Just now, Luo Yu had called his name with such intensity—was this permission to cross the line?

Gu Xiaowei lifted Luo Yu’s hand. Luo Yu’s fingers were elegantly shaped, nails neatly trimmed. With a sigh, Gu Xiaowei was about to let go, but Luo Yu shifted closer to him, nudging against him.

Gu Xiaowei’s heart softened. He slid his arm under Luo Yu’s neck, and Luo Yu followed the movement, placing one hand between their faces. Just as Gu Xiaowei was about to move, Luo Yu’s hand shifted, and his ring finger brushed against Gu Xiaowei’s lips.

Gu Xiaowei froze, breath caught in his throat. Slowly, carefully, he closed his lips around Luo Yu’s finger, savoring the feel—it was completely different from feeding him the roll. It was as if all of Luo Yu’s thoughts and emotions had come to a standstill just for him.

He kept the light contact, breathing out softly as he held the fingertip, eyes closed in quiet contentment.

It was unclear how long they stayed like that before Luo Yu, lying on Gu Xiaowei’s arm, opened his eyes, gazing at Gu Xiaowei’s peaceful sleeping face with a look of satisfaction.

Since they had stayed up so late, both slept until midday.

The noon sunlight shone harshly, piercing through the curtains and falling right on Luo Yu’s eyelids.

“Ugh,” he frowned, instinctively trying to rub his eyes, only to feel his finger joints lightly pressed by something.

His heart skipped a beat, and he opened his eyes to meet Gu Xiaowei’s gaze as he lifted his lids.

Their eyes met, and the depth in Gu Xiaowei’s gaze made Luo Yu’s blood pump back toward his heart. He sat up abruptly, rubbing his head. “You… you stayed with me the whole time…”

“Because you called my name so loudly,” Gu Xiaowei said slowly, sitting up and leaning back, looking at Luo Yu. “Is it because of that scene involving the psychiatrist? Were you worried about me, thinking about it even in your dreams?”

“Probably.” Luo Yu turned his face away, embarrassed, scratching his head. “I was just worrying over nothing; don’t mind it.”

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

Propping himself up with one hand, Gu Xiaowei looked up at Luo Yu with a serious expression. “Senior Brother, you weren’t worrying for nothing. Every time I feel myself becoming more like Lu Pingfeng, I see you and remember I’m still Gu Xiaowei.”

Just then, there was a tentative knock. Ye Shengyi’s voice came through, “Brother Gu, Brother Luo… are you awake? Do you want to eat lunch?”

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The clapperboard sounded alongside the thunder, as lightning and thunder lit up the distant sky, occasionally casting a glow on the window.

“Mm…” Wen Yuchi murmured softly but didn’t wake up. He simply drew his legs onto the sofa, pulled the coat draped on the sofa over himself, and continued sleeping.

In the scene’s dark atmosphere, as though the darkness was about to descend, Wen Yuchi seemed like prey completely oblivious to danger, calm and serene under the thunder and lightning.

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

The boiling kettle gradually fell silent; the red light at the bottom turned off, indicating either a power cut or a tripped circuit.

It felt like a sinister omen.

The entire room dimmed, leaving only the sound of the heavy rain outside, as though it would fill the world.

The thunder grew closer, creating a heart-stopping tension, but Wen Yuchi’s mind seemed submerged in another realm.

His slightly ajar apartment door creaked open, just faintly, almost drowned out by the thunder.

A tall figure stepped into the room, strolling in lazily as though unconcerned about being noticed by Wen Yuchi. At the same time, every step he took was silent, blending into the darkness, until he reached the sofa and gazed down, quietly and patiently, at the sleeping Wen Yuchi.

Though an uninvited shadow, he watched over Wen Yuchi with an air of natural entitlement, even tilting his head in a gentle and careful manner.

The rain continued. He seemed like a defiant observer peeking at a sliver of light, with no lines but an aura of complete restraint and self-control, as though roses were blooming in his blood, their calyxes and thorns tearing through veins and heart. Even though his mind screamed in pain, he maintained his silence—for if Wen Yuchi were to wake up, his judging gaze might be no different from the world’s.

And then all illusions would be shattered.

A flash of lightning lit up the room, illuminating the intruder’s face.

Cold and sharp as though chiseled from stone.

Then a thunderclap rumbled, causing the whole building to shudder.

Wen Yuchi jolted awake, his shoulder twitching. Before his eyes had fully opened, he sensed someone standing by his sofa.

His instincts kicked in, and he tensed to spring up, but the other person’s hand suddenly gripped his throat, pinning him back onto the sofa with a knee pressing down on his abdomen.

Wen Yuchi’s eyes widened, his body taut, and his first reaction was to grab the other person’s fingers. But the grip was unexpectedly strong, and with both hands, he could only barely prevent the fingers from crushing his throat.

But if they wanted to kill him, why use only one hand?

And the feel of this hand… that wrist… seemed familiar.

Wen Yuchi looked up at his assailant in silhouette, breathing in a scent both refreshing and faintly heated, as if a chemical reaction had occurred. Combined with the dampness of the rain, it accelerated his heartbeat, an invisible something tearing at a membrane over his heart—not pain, but a kind of addictive torment.

His gaze met a pair of deep, enigmatic eyes, apparently cold but simmering with a hidden fire, rising from the depths to a rolling boil. Wen Yuchi had, for the first time, the illusion that his gaze was burning.

Another flash of lightning outlined the person’s elegant features, and for an instant, Wen Yuchi wondered if this person had somehow fused with his soul, their gaze like a celestial tide flowing through his veins.

They drew closer, hair slipping down, almost brushing Wen Yuchi’s cheek though there was still a gap, the restrained aura searing as if his senses were stripped.

“Mr. Lu… how did you get in?”

As Wen Yuchi realized who it was, he released his grip.

As expected, the hand at his throat immediately lightened, holding his neck with just enough pressure to make its presence known without constricting his breathing.

“You didn’t close the door,” Lu Pingfeng’s voice was cold, his tone utterly calm, yet it sounded gentle against the sound of torrential rain.

“You can let go now. If there hadn’t been a power outage, I could have offered you some hot…” Wen Yuchi glanced toward the kitchen, where the kettle’s water had likely cooled, “instant coffee.”

“I came here to kill you. Just like I killed Dr. Kong… I have countless ways to stage the crime scene as an accident. I could, for example, ignite the gas in your apartment.”

Lu Pingfeng’s features held a naturally intense beauty in the darkness, as if concealing countless secrets and madness, alluring to anyone who thought they couldn’t be ensnared.

But Wen Yuchi easily crossed that line, for he saw those shadows as no different from those cast by drifting clouds on the ground.

“Lu Pingfeng, how many bottles of medicine did you return to Mrs. Kong?”

“One,” Lu Pingfeng answered.

“A bottle has no more than twenty-four tablets, which matches Dr. Kong’s prescription,” Wen Yuchi said.

“So?”

“So what? I checked that medication. Taking all twenty-four pills isn’t enough to cause Dr. Kong’s psychosis. The dose he took was double what you were prescribed. Think about it—could a single glass of wine dissolve such a large amount, or was his tongue numb?”

Wen Yuchi’s lips curved slightly, his gaze shimmering with a sly glint, like the faintest note of a string causing Lu Pingfeng’s heart to resonate.

“So… Dr. Kong didn’t die from the pills I returned.”

Lu Pingfeng’s hand left Wen Yuchi’s throat, and he stepped back, sitting on the small coffee table.

“I’m not a detective, nor am I responsible for solving cases or making assumptions,” Wen Yuchi murmured.

But in truth, Wen Yuchi had already revealed the truth to Lu Pingfeng.

For Dr. Kong to drink wine containing such a high dose of the drug, he must have done so willingly, perhaps with intent.

Whether he wanted an excuse to punish his wife or experience a taste of madness didn’t matter to Wen Yuchi or Lu Pingfeng anymore.

“Actually, when I arrived at the crime scene and first saw the blood on that wall, I was captivated. They were complex, unrestrained, like a vast flood,” Lu Pingfeng said.

Wen Yuchi shrugged with a smile, “Every time I dissect a human body, I find the organs, blood vessels, muscles, and even the fat to be intricate and subtle—a masterpiece by the Creator.”

We each, in our own fields, set aside human emotion to objectively appreciate the beauty within.

Lu Pingfeng’s shoulders lowered slightly, his entire posture relaxed.

All the absurd details carved into his heart seemed to smooth out.

Outside, lightning continued to flash and thunder boomed, rain pouring down, obscuring the world.

Yet, in this small apartment, Lu Pingfeng felt as though he’d experienced a tidal surge of moonrise and sunset, seeing the reflection of another soul in the ebb.

Wen Yuchi sat up slowly, lazily ruffling his hair, his tired eyes gleaming with clarity, “Mr. Lu, I’m a forensic pathologist; I speak with corpses. I only believe the facts they reveal.”

“So I won’t be so presumptuous about you… You can step into my world without worry.”

“I’m a painter. I converse with death, and I only believe in the certain beauty of death,” Lu Pingfeng said to Wen Yuchi with a smile.

And you, you exist outside of death.

You may not have arrived in formal attire, but you’re everything I’ve dreamed of.

“Coffee?”

After a short nap and a slight “scare” from Lu Pingfeng, Wen Yuchi was now three parts awake. He walked to the kitchen, touched the kettle, finding it lukewarm.

“Though I don’t have the elegance of hand-brewed coffee, this jar is still the aristocrat of instant coffee.”

Lu Pingfeng walked over, took the large glass jar from Wen Yuchi’s hand, and placed it back on the shelf.

“What you should be drinking isn’t coffee, but milk.”

“I’d like to have some instant noodles, but the power’s out now!” Wen Yuchi complained.

Lu Pingfeng turned and walked toward the door. Wen Yuchi raised his hand slightly. “Come on… Because I don’t have hand-brewed coffee, you’re going to leave without even saying goodbye?”

Who would’ve guessed that Lu Pingfeng instead brought over a small box from the shelf by the entrance.

“Pastries.”

Wen Yuchi tilted his head slightly. “Don’t tell me it’s red velvet cake in there.”

“Why? Do you feel nauseous at the sight of red velvet cake because you found traces of it in a victim’s stomach?”

“Then you’re underestimating me. I’ve handled countless victims, with every possible food in their stomachs. If that alone made me nauseous, I’d probably live on nutritional supplements.” Wen Yuchi opened the box and found various flavors of Swiss rolls inside.

He casually took a piece and took a big bite. The sweetness was just right, soft and delicious, instantly soothing his empty stomach.

As Wen Yuchi reached for a second piece, the cue sounded that the scene was finished. 

Everyone on set snapped back to reality from their engrossed viewing of the scene.

This scene had been incredibly immersive.

When Lu Pingfeng first appeared, he created an almost suffocating tension. Gu Xiaowei’s performance was different from the audition, bringing a duality to the character.

Standing by Wen Yuchi’s sofa, he treated him with gentle restraint, but the moment he grabbed Wen Yuchi, the aura of aggression and killing intent was instantly unleashed.

At this moment, Luo Yu was holding the box of Swiss rolls, stuffing the last bite into his mouth, and casually holding up another piece to Gu Xiaowei’s mouth. “Want some?”

Before Gu Xiaowei could answer, the director shouted over the megaphone, “Eat, eat, eat! Who said you could eat the props?! Who told you that one take means we’re done filming?! Everyone, get back into position! Swiss rolls, replace them! One more take!”

Luo Yu, looking baffled, held the Swiss roll and tried to figure out the best angle to put it back.

But Gu Xiaowei walked over, pressed down his own collar, raised Luo Yu’s wrist, and bit into the Swiss roll right in front of the director.

The bustling set fell silent.

Sheng Yunlan widened his eyes as he looked at the two of them, picking up the megaphone to shout, only for the staff to quickly reassure him, “There’s more! Plenty of Swiss rolls left!”

Gu Xiaowei continued to eat the roll from Luo Yu’s hand, slowly, finishing one side before turning to the other side.

From Luo Yu’s angle, it almost looked like he was kissing with the Swiss roll. Each time his heart would leap, carefully avoiding Gu Xiaowei’s lips yet secretly hoping he might actually touch them.

Gu Xiaowei’s eyelashes were long; when he lowered his eyes, he seemed gentle, and when he looked up, he was inexplicably captivating.

So close now… Admiring beauty is a natural instinct, Luo Yu thought, as he watched Gu Xiaowei lick off the cream from the corner of his mouth with a flash of subtle red hue, feeling his heartbeat speed up.

Fine, Gu Xiaowei—whether you’re deliberately approaching me or just being friendly, I’ve decided I’ll do as I please.

With that last bit of roll in his hand, Luo Yu took advantage of Gu Xiaowei’s distraction to push it all into his mouth, letting his fingers briefly brush against him.

That fleeting softness made Luo Yu’s heart tremble.

He could feel Gu Xiaowei’s lips pressing down a bit, perhaps afraid the roll might fall, or maybe to keep Luo Yu’s fingers there a moment longer.

But whatever the reason, Luo Yu avoided his gaze, turned, and handed the pastry box to the crew.

“Sorry, we ate the props. Could you add two more pieces?”

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

“Sure thing, no problem.”

Director Sheng then picked up the megaphone and called out, “If you two dare eat the props again, believe me, I’ll shoot this scene until morning! Let’s see if you’ll keep eating then!”

Luo Yu folded his hands together in an apologetic gesture toward Director Sheng. “So sorry! So sorry! It tasted so good, couldn’t stop after one bite.”

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Jiang Yinchuan planned to independently produce dramas and movies in the future. Some roles were impactful but had few scenes, often requiring a search among extras at the set, which was time-consuming and didn’t always yield good results.

Luo Yu had suggested that there were quite a few seasoned actors among the extras. Although they might look ordinary, their lines and expressions were no less skilled than those of formally trained actors. They could be signed for long-term collaboration; as long as they acted sincerely, they could be cultivated into “golden supporting actors,” which would also reflect the company’s strength.

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

Jiang Yinchuan decided to adopt Luo Yu’s suggestion, and the first “golden supporting actor” he had in mind was Brother Long.

When Brother Long received the invitation to sign, he was overwhelmed with joy and deeply grateful to Yinchuan Culture for the opportunity. This renewed his motivation for acting.

He shared Luo Yu’s sword dance video, sincerely praising, [Though I’m just a rough guy, it doesn’t stop me from thinking this dude is truly cool!]

Han Yang, after watching the video, called Jiang Yinchuan again to confirm that, after the filming of “Beast and Rose”, and a short Olympic-themed series, Luo Yu’s schedule would be open afterward for the drama he was planning.

“Don’t worry, when have I, Jiang Yinchuan, ever broken a promise? Luo Yu is also very trustworthy! But the main focus now is for Screenwriter Hua to hurry up with the script, isn’t it?”

Since *”Counterattack” aired, Jiang Yinchuan’s phone had nearly exploded with calls. Everyone could see that Luo Yu was already popular and would only become more so. Any more waiting, and it would be years before his schedule would open up.

When dealing with reasonable people, Jiang Yinchuan would respectfully listen to their proposals.

As for those who relied on past collaborations to demand that Jiang Yinchuan assign Luo Yu to their projects, Jiang Yinchuan had one attitude: “Luo Yu is not just a company actor; he’s also a founding shareholder. I can’t dictate where my shareholder goes—he decides for himself.”

On the other hand, Ou Juntao’s concerns were entirely different from Jiang Yinchuan’s.

He had just watched Luo Yu’s sword dance—so powerful and beautiful, as if the blade could cut through the night breeze. Each turn, each swing of the sword, stole sight and heartbeat alike. That taut waistline, full of energy…

Ou Juntao swallowed; he couldn’t resist replaying it over and over, his mind filled with endless thoughts.

But Gao He’s call disrupted everything.

“Chairman Ou, after watching Luo Yu’s sword dance video, the director of the “Wolf Smoke” crew consulted with the producer and investors. They want to replace He Mu and cast Luo Yu as the young general. They’re very firm about this.”

Every time Ou Juntao heard the name “He Mu”, his head throbbed.

“And then?”

“Jiang Yinchuan’s side refused, due to scheduling conflicts.”

This was the only bit of good news.

“Did He Mu really injure his back on the wire stunt?” Ou Juntao asked coldly.

“I heard… it was because the female lead, Ai Cheng, has been a fan of Luo Yu recently. She’s been watching Luo Yu’s videos during breaks and recommending him to others when not filming. This stirred the whole crew into watching “Counterattack”, and He Mu got into a quarrel with her, saying some unpleasant things, which led Ai Cheng to give him the cold shoulder.”

Ou Juntao’s fingers turned white from clenching, “Are these two idiots? Go and tell He Mu that if he doesn’t get back to filming immediately, he shouldn’t bother accepting any more jobs! Doesn’t he realize his resources are deteriorating? And Ai Cheng—if she likes Luo Yu that much, tell her to ask Jiang Yinchuan if he’d take her on!”

Previously, Ou Juntao had indulged He Mu, hoping he’d get conceited and make things difficult for Luo Yu.

But now… with just one “Counterattack”, Luo Yu had gained incredible attention. And with “Counterattack” not yet finished, “Storm” was already scheduled for release. With these two dramas airing consecutively, Ou Juntao could imagine that the Yunwen Award for Most Popular Supporting Actor would likely go to Luo Yu this year—or, at the very least, he’d be nominated. And there was the professional Kirin Award, where Luo Yu would almost certainly receive a nomination.

At 10:20 PM, Luo Yu and Gu Xiaowei’s van pulled up in front of the youth apartment complex.

The surroundings were quiet; the light from the streetlamp illuminated the ground, bright yet giving off an eerie emptiness.

Luo Yu’s cheek was gently patted, and Gu Xiaowei’s voice sounded beside his ear, “We’re here, wake up.”

“En…” Luo Yu sat up, just about to rub his eyes when Gu Xiaowei caught his wrist, “Don’t rub. Smudging your eye makeup will mean more touch-ups.”

Only then did Luo Yu fully wake up. When he looked up, he met Gu Xiaowei’s gaze.

The light from the streetlamp filtered in through the window, and though Gu Xiaowei’s features were backlit, they didn’t carry the cold detachment of his sleepwalking performance.

Instead, there was a kind of warmth that melted the darkness.

Luo Yu stifled a laugh, “You know… tonight, you’re supposed to choke me in this scene. Being so considerate now, I’m wondering if you’ll even be able to go through with it.”

Gu Xiaowei paused slightly.

He knew very well that his current state of mind was his own; all the tenderness was genuinely for Luo Yu.

He found that he hadn’t fallen into character but had, in fact, retained his sense of self.

“Gu Xiaowei? Teacher Gu? Classmate Gu?” Luo Yu leaned closer, noticing Gu Xiaowei’s silence and looking worriedly at his expression.

The next second, Gu Xiaowei suddenly reached out and gripped Luo Yu’s throat, his Adam’s apple lightly bobbing under Gu Xiaowei’s palm as he reacted in surprise.

In that moment, Gu Xiaowei felt an illusion of control over this person.

“Do you think I won’t be able to choke you?” Gu Xiaowei lowered his gaze and looked at him.

Luo Yu’s hair was slightly disheveled, framing his eyes as he looked back in slight bewilderment, evidently not expecting Gu Xiaowei to suddenly strike.

Gu Xiaowei leaned closer and closer, his gaze growing colder, until his waist was sharply pinched by Luo Yu.

“Ow…” Gu Xiaowei let go of Luo Yu, leaning back against the van door.

“Ha, I finally succeeded once.” Luo Yu rubbed his own throat, “And you call that choking? You’re not even intimidating. Now, this is how you pinch.”

Luo Yu opened the van door with a flourish, the night breeze noticeably absent.

He deliberately swaggered past Gu Xiaowei as he stepped out.

The air seemed compressed by some invisible force, frozen and motionless.

The crew had already entered the apartment complex; inside, a model apartment represented Wen Yuchi’s “home.”

Ye Shengyi followed Luo Yu into the elevator, holding a makeup case.

After waiting a moment without seeing Gu Xiaowei enter, Luo Yu asked, “Where’s Teacher Gu?”

“He seems to still be in the van.”

Luo Yu frowned, wondering if his joke had unsettled Gu Xiaowei. Was Gu Xiaowei staying in the van to prepare emotionally? Luo Yu thought about going to check on him.

But if Gu Xiaowei was truly getting into character, interrupting him would ruin his focus.

“We’ll go up first. My scenes is up first,” Luo Yu said.

This was Luo Yu’s first time seeing Wen Yuchi’s “home.” It was clear the crew had put in effort. Being close to the resort, moving equipment and shooting was easy, and the layout matched Luo Yu’s imagination.

Upon entering, one could see a fabric couch with several wrinkled shirts and jackets strewn across its back, fitting Wen Yuchi’s lifestyle as a forensic pathologist who often worked late—returning too exhausted to tidy up.

In front of the couch was a small, round coffee table, unlike the large, modern glass tables in the resort villa; this one looked affordable, something you might find at Ikea.

Opposite the couch was a modest TV.

Adjacent to the living room was an open kitchen. On the counter was a cup rack with a few mugs hanging, and a knife set was by the stove.

The camera positions were set, and adjustments were underway.

Luo Yu lay on the couch, testing out the spot, as the lighting crew fine-tuned the lights.

Everything was ready, but the thunderstorm hadn’t yet arrived.

Director Sheng signaled to film Wen Yuchi’s return home.

Ye Shengyi adjusted Luo Yu’s makeup, and with the director’s approval, Luo Yu went to the door. He closed his eyes, gathering his emotions, took a deep breath, and slipped into Wen Yuchi’s state.

Wen Yuchi was still in the clothes he’d worn for the luminol test at Lu Pingfeng’s villa, visibly weary.

The sound of a turning lock broke the silence as Wen Yuchi opened his apartment door and casually nudged it shut.

The camera zoomed in to reveal that the door didn’t fully close, leaving a dark sliver, as if it led to another world. Perhaps an eye or a claw would emerge from the gap. But after a few seconds, it simply remained the same.

Wen Yuchi’s first action was to turn on the light. With a “click,” the whole room was bathed in a soft, warm orange glow.

He walked slowly to the sofa, instinctively picking up the clothes draped over it. He might have intended to tidy them up, but after taking a deep breath, he put them down again.

His stomach growled, so he went to the kitchen, lifted the kettle, and turned on the tap. While waiting for the kettle to fill, Wen Yuchi tilted his head back and closed his eyes, looking like he could fall asleep standing up.

Only when water began to overflow from the kettle did Wen Yuchi snap back to awareness.

He quickly turned off the tap, poured out the excess water, set the kettle on its base, and finally, the water began to boil.

Taking advantage of the break while the water boiled, Wen Yuchi returned to the sofa and sank down onto it. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and as the hum of boiling water filled the room, he slowly rolled onto his side and fell asleep.

This sense of exhaustion was portrayed so realistically.

Without a single line, he drew the audience into Wen Yuchi’s weariness.

After a quiet few seconds, a faint glow appeared in the distance outside the window, followed by distant thunder.

The long-awaited storm had finally arrived.

The sound of heavy rain grew louder in the distance, and flashes of lightning and thunder came closer and closer.

The previously stifling air finally began to flow.

“Good! Get ready for the next scene! Quick, quick!” Sheng Yunlan shouted.

“Where’s Teacher Gu? Lu Pingfeng’s scene is about to start!” The scene manager called out through a megaphone.

“Teacher Gu is here! He’s just outside the door!”

Luo Yu continued lying on the sofa, motionless, as if the bustling activity around him had nothing to do with him; he had truly fallen asleep.

His face tilted slightly to the side, a strand of hair clinging to his cheek, and the distant thunder did not cause his eyelids to flutter even slightly.

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

Sheng Yunlan was very pleased with Luo Yu’s state; this was not just acting but a professional dedication that ensured the consistency of his posture between scenes.

Gu Xiaowei had already arrived at the door. This scene was one they had rehearsed during the audition.

Who knew what kind of surprise these two might bring after working together for a few days? The whole crew was anticipating it.

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