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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