“Tonight’s first episode dropped a bit, but in the second episode it came back up,” Gu Xiaowei replied.
“That’s good, our efforts didn’t go to waste!”
“Go to sleep,” Gu Xiaowei said as he patted Luo Yu’s shoulder.
Perhaps because his sleep quality was good and Gu Xiaowei had dealt with it in a timely manner, Luo Yu slept until the afternoon. When he awoke, his ankle no longer hurt.
You c an fi nd t he la te st cha pte rs at ( th e bl mu se . c o m )
His eyes were still closed. He moved his foot beneath the blanket, and a faint sound came from near his ear.
Just as Luo Yu was about to rub his eyes, a soft voice came from beside him, “Don’t move.”
“En?” Luo Yu lifted his eyelids and saw Gu Xiaowei sitting at the head of the bed, one hand holding a sketchbook and the other gripping a pen as he quickly sketched.
His heartbeat, which had been calm all morning, suddenly became erratic at the sight of Gu Xiaowei.
Gu Xiaowei was drawing him again—this wasn’t as Lu Pingfeng but as himself, reflecting his own thoughts and desires.
Luo Yu lay there for a while and heard Gu Xiaowei stop his pen and reach out for his sketchbook.
“Let me see!”
Gu Xiaowei released his hand. Luo Yu sat up. The page before him was a sketch of half his face buried in his pillow, a hand resting beside his ear in a peaceful sleeping pose.
The lines were clean and precise, capturing Luo Yu’s facial features so vividly that they made one’s heart inexplicably soften. The way the drawing looked was essentially how Gu Xiaowei saw him.
Luo Yu turned another page. This sketch showed him from the back, his neck and one shoulder exposed.
The minimalistic lines conveyed no extreme detail, yet Luo Yu felt himself blushing. The ordinary lines, in Gu Xiaowei’s hands, carried an unexpected allure.
He stole a glance at Gu Xiaowei, who was looking at the sketchbook calmly with his head tilted. His expression seemed neutral, as though Luo Yu was the only one affected.
—Gu Xiaowei drew so seriously. It was Luo Yu who had inappropriate thoughts.
When Luo Yu turned to the next page, his breath hitched—he froze in place.
This sketch was unmistakable. It was of him falling in the bathroom.
The curves and angles of his body, the tension in his muscles, the line of his movements—all of it sent a shiver through Luo Yu. His heartbeat quickened, and his blood surged as his eyes fixated on the drawing.
The way his knee was slightly bent in the sketch blocked the focus of his gaze.
The more you hide, the more others are curious.
He was suddenly reminded of the statues by the fountain and that night when Gu Xiaowei had covered his mouth and pulled him into the shadow of the rose trellis.
“Ah, your ears are red,” Gu Xiaowei said lightly.
Luo Yu instinctively touched his ear, noticing Gu Xiaowei’s small smile at the corner of his mouth. He realized the other had spoken on purpose.
“Were you waiting for me here?” Luo Yu asked.
“Waiting for what?” Gu Xiaowei seemed oblivious to his own smile.
“Waiting for me to flip to this page and see my embarrassed face!”
Gu Xiaowei leaned in closer: “Would you be embarrassed?”
“Isn’t that what you said? The more I cared about you seeing me, the more you would care about what you saw. Here, take it back!”
Luo Yu began to use the sketchbook to cover Gu Xiaowei’s head but then paused.
“Didn’t you say you’re going to return it to me?”
“Your drawing is of me—did you get my consent?” Luo Yu countered.
“Then what do you want?”
“In order to avoid this sketch being made public. For now, this sketchbook is mine.” Luo Yu looked directly at Gu Xiaowei.
Gu Xiaowei turned his head to the side and laughed lightly. “Alright, it’s yours then. Besides…”
He trailed off at that last part, leaving it hanging in the air.
“What is it? You can’t just leave it at that!” Luo Yu pressed, narrowing his eyes at Gu Xiaowei.
But Gu Xiaowei laughed, turning to leave. Luo Yu wrapped his arm around his waist, trying to pull him back the way he had been pulled just days ago. Before he knew it, Gu Xiaowei had already dragged him toward the edge of the bed.
“Does Senior Brother want to be my keychain pendant, following me home?” Gu Xiaowei glanced back at him.
Luo Yu was unwilling to admit defeat. He didn’t understand how his strength had failed against Gu Xiaowei’s. He tugged again, and Gu Xiaowei chuckled. In the next moment, Luo Yu’s vision did a 360 and he was flipped onto Gu Xiaowei’s shoulder with ease.
“Hey! Gu Xiaowei, you’re inhuman! Not just ‘inhuman’—you’re literally inhuman! Put me down!”
But Gu Xiaowei didn’t carry him off. He placed Luo Yu back onto the bed, holding his waist with one hand while the other rested beside him.
“No more messing around. You’ll only risk hurting yourself again,” Gu Xiaowei said seriously.
“Your tone, it seems like you’d rather be my daddy than my junior brother?”
Gu Xiaowei sighed, grabbed a pillow, and thudded it onto Luo Yu’s head before walking out.
Luo Yu looked at the sketchbook again, “If you have the guts to draw everything, then do it.”
There was a knock at the door just as Gu Xiaowei’s voice came from the other side, “Fine. But you will probably be too afraid to look at it.”
“I’m not a ghost. You draw me, and I’ll dare to look at it.”
Afterward, their sleeping schedules became erratic, as much of the plot’s scenes required shooting during mountain night scenes. Their lives gradually transitioned to a nocturnal schedule—sleeping during the day and getting up by 4 pm for mountain hikes, makeup, and filming.
The script’s filming had finally entered the stage of revealing the secrets. Gu Xiaowei and Luo Yu sat side by side next to the director, watching the monitor. The camera crew moved along the track, and the internal fighting among the heirs officially began.
Ding Bing with Zhuang Chao and Zhuang Feifei went toward the hunting lodge, forcing the messenger Zhuang He to walk ahead.
Ding Bing had never trusted Zhuang He, suspecting that he might have conspired with Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi to lure them to the hunting lodge. The closer they get to the hunting lodge, the more these suspicions grew. Eventually, Ding Bing stopped and demanded Zhuang He tell the truth; otherwise, they won’t advance even if they risk poisoning themselves.
At first, Zhuang He said nothing, but Zhuang Chao drew a dagger and stabbed him in the leg without hesitation. Zhuang He cried out in pain, calling out to his parents.
Ding Bing, upon witnessing this, deduced that something was up with Zhuang He and cocked his gun, aiming at Zhuang He’s head.
Zhuang He stammered, bringing up the murder case of the female college student, frantically claiming that he only stabbed her leg and it wasn’t fatal. However, Wen Yuchi claimed that the police have received evidence proving that Zhuang He was involved. If Zhuang He survived, he would not only face punishment for the island’s events but also for the murder of the female college student unless he could prove his merit. Wen Yuchi did not say whether a trap had been set at the hunting house but insisted that they must all go there.
Ding Bing and his two companions’ expressions change instantly.
Zhuang Feifei blurted out, “That’s impossible! The old man said he would handle everything properly and wouldn’t leave any evidence!”
“Fei Fei!” Ding Bing glared at her angrily.
Zhuang Feifei realized she had misspoken and turned pale.
Zhuang He suddenly realized something, “So it was you! You three killed that female student!”
“You’re talking nonsense!” Zhuang Chao cocked his gun again, aiming it at Zhuang He’s head.
This time, Ding Bing’s expression darkened, and he showed no intention of stopping Zhuang Chao from shooting.
Zhuang He immediately turned and ran, but Zhuang Chao pulled the trigger, hitting him in the back of the head. Zhuang He fell to the ground dead.
Zhuang Feifei screamed in shock. Ding Bing stepped forward to confirm Zhuang He’s death, stating coldly, “Let’s go.”
“Why… why did you kill him?” Zhuang Feifei asked, trembling.
“We three participated in the ‘Banquet at Dusk,’ and we saw each other’s faces and agreed to keep each other’s secrets. This allowed us to form an alliance. But Zhuang He was stupid enough to know we were behind the female student’s death. If he reported us to the police, it would cause us trouble.”
“But you killed him… even if we are rescued, won’t it raise suspicions?”
“Ding Bing raised his chin, “We’ll say he tried to ambush us with a gun, and we killed him in self-defense. Let’s go.”
“Where to?”
“Since Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi invited us to the hunting lodge, how would we know their intentions unless we check?”
Ding Bing gestured, and Zhuang Feifei and Zhuang Chao followed him as they proceeded toward their destination.
The moonlight danced on the trees, casting shimmering silver onto the ground. But they had no mind to admire the beauty.
As they approached the hunting lodge, they spotted a figure hanging from a tree—a familiar face.
All three inhaled sharply as they realized it was Zhuang He.
“Why is he… hanging from there…” Zhuang Feifei stared with wide eyes.
“Wait, what’s that hanging from his neck?” Zhuang Chao pointed to the object on Zhuang He’s chest.
“Antidote! It’s the antidote!”
Just as Zhuang Feifei was about to rush forward, Ding Bing blocked her path, “Be careful of traps.”
They stopped in their actions and carefully observed their surroundings. Although cautious, Zhuang Chao finally could not resist.
“I say, if I take the antidote down, none of you better try to snatch it from me!”
Ding Bing and Zhuang Feifei remained silent as Zhuang Chao fired at the rope suspending Zhuang He, and the body dropped to the ground. Zhuang Chao retrieved the antidote under the moonlight, inspecting the small black container with traces of blood.
“This is real! Maybe Lu Pingfeng and Wen Yuchi took it from someone’s body.”
Before Zhuang Chao could open it, Zhuang Feifei lunged at him.
“This is our discovery! You can’t take it all for yourself!”
It instantly turned into a brawl. Zhuang Feifei was weaker, and Zhuang Chao had a stranglehold on her. Just as she was about to lose consciousness, Ding Bing put his gun to Zhuang Chao’s head, “Let go of her.”
Zhuang Chao could only raise his hands, when Zhuang Feifei, who had just caught her breath, suddenly straightened her back and lunged toward the antidote in his hand.
“You damned woman—” Zhuang Chao finally lost his composure, grabbing a fistful of Zhuang Feifei’s hair. But she, with sheer determination, twisted the cap off the antidote and prepared to swallow it in one desperate motion.
“Bang—”
This time, the shot came from Ding Bing.
Blood splattered across Zhuang Chao’s face, leaving him completely stunned. His hand, still clutching Zhuang Feifei’s hair, remained frozen. The antidote fell from her grasp, and the arms that had moments ago fought with wild intensity now hung limp at her sides.
Ding Bing coldly took the antidote from her hands, confirming it indeed contained something. Zhuang Chao asked, “You… you want to take it yourself?”
Ding Bing replied, “Reach out. One-half each.”
Zhuang Chao released his hold on Zhuang Feifei and reached for the antidote. After tasting it, he coughed violently, realizing, “It… it tastes like wood shavings!”
“Fuck! We’ve been tricked!” Zhuang Chao said, feeling a strange relief. If Zhuang Feifei hadn’t tried to snatch it, Ding Bing might have killed him.
Meanwhile, Lu Pingfeng, Wen Yuchi, and Qin Lin sat quietly behind a rock, silent.
“You’re not taking the antidote?” Wen Yuchi asked Qin Lin, intrigued.
Qin Lin, with a resigned smile, explained, “I wasn’t sent here as an heir. I discovered Mr. Zhuang’s hobbies and was airdropped here. He probably hoped I’d be killed by Ding Bing and the rest or the two of you. But he didn’t expect you two would save me.”
“What hobbies?” Lu Pingfeng asked, though his expression showed no signs of curiosity.
Wen Yuchi listened without much emotion as he traced a cross in the dirt with his dagger.
“He invited his adopted daughter and nephews to kill the female college student during the ‘Banquet at Dusk.’ Although he didn’t appear on the footage, the shadow of a wheelchair was visible. Also, your agent Ai Lin was strangled by Ding Bing. And there’s also a previous murder, orchestrated by Zhuang Feifei and Zhuang Chao.”
“Are they insane?” Wen Yuchi scoffed. “Why would they commit murder when they had normal lives? Trying to mimic our great painter Mr. Lu’s paintings? Some kind of twisted art?”
Qin Lin smiled mildly, “Zhuang Jie uses methods to trap people into desperate situations. When people are desperate, they abandon morality to solve immediate needs.”
“Zhuang Jie handled the aftermath quite well for them. We suspected many people, but never Zhuang Jie,” Wen Yuchi said, his expression growing colder. “Qin Lin, it was your idea to take the antidote out and let them fight among themselves. I didn’t think it would work, but it did.”
Qin Lin responded indifferently, “It’s a common strategy of Mr. Zhuang’s—divide and conquer.”
“Take a guess—who pulled the trigger, and who lost their life?” Wen Yuchi’s gaze at Qin Lin carried a hint of icy mockery.
“Dr. Wen, I understand your stance. In your eyes, this might be no different from premeditated murder. But don’t forget, the gun wasn’t in our hands. This was their own choice,” Qin Lin replied.
Wen Yuchi let out a faint laugh. “I’m no saint. Those people were vicious criminals armed with deadly weapons. Our first priority was to ensure our own safety. I don’t have the light or warmth to reform them.”
“Now that you’ve said that, I feel relieved,” Qin Lin nodded calmly.
Suddenly, Lu Pingfeng stood, holding the only pistol they took from Zhuang He. He walked toward the woods.
“Where’s he going?” Qin Lin asked.
Wen Yuchi didn’t respond, only followed him silently, dagger in hand, aware of Lu Pingfeng’s intent to inspect the body.
“Ah, it’s a woman,” Lu Pingfeng said quietly, standing before Zhuang Feifei’s corpse, his head lowered, his voice indifferent.
Wen Yuchi stepped forward, crouching halfway down. Using the blunt end of his dagger, he brushed aside the long hair covering Zhuang Feifei’s face, only to be met with her wide-open, lifeless eyes.
Qin Lin unconsciously turned his face away, “She was very vain in life.”
Wen Yuchi calmly assessed her death, “The extent of the skull fractures and burn marks suggest she was shot at a distance of less than 50 centimeters.”
Lu Pingfeng had remained silent the whole time, merely lowering his head to lock eyes with Zhuang Feifei.
“Is it beautiful?” Wen Yuchi looked up and met Lu Pingfeng’s gaze.
There was no judgment, no scrutiny—only a simple curiosity about his aesthetic preference.
The corners of Lu Pingfeng’s lips curved faintly, and instead of answering Wen Yuchi’s question, he remained engrossed, staring at Zhuang Feifei.
“What are you thinking, Mr. Lu?” Qin Lin asked after a long pause.
Eventually, Lu Pingfeng spoke, “I’m imagining the trajectory of a bullet passing through her brain.”
There was a chilling coldness in his calm demeanor, and the faint mocking in his eyes exuded a sense of hopelessness.
And this hopelessness was conveyed to Wen Yuchi.
It was as if, after countless attempts and struggles, Lu Pingfeng had revealed his true nature, and this essence was irredeemable.
—After seeing me like this, are you still willing to stand by my side?
However, Wen Yuchi extended his hand toward Lu Pingfeng, saying, “I’ve been squatting for too long; help pull me up.”
In the frame, Wen Yuchi looked up at him with a calm, reassuring mutual understanding, serving as Lu Pingfeng’s return to equilibrium.
The scattered world seemed to flow backward infinitely in Wen Yuchi’s gaze.
The camera lingered for a long time, and everyone on the set looked at him.
This was the skill of a good actor: a simple line, a glance, a smile, all creating an extraordinary atmosphere.
And Luo Yu’s gaze didn’t show extreme emotions but still managed to instill a sense of inevitable fate.
Even though other actors’ lines had already ended in this scene, no one moved for fear of breaking this unique ambiance.
After an unknown amount of time, the actress playing Zhuang Feifei suddenly burst into laughter.
“I’ve wrapped! I’ce finally wrapped up filming! I won’t have to shoot night scenes anymore! Look at how rough my skin has gotten!”
Within two to three seconds, the entire set came alive.
“Oh, congratulations on finishing!”
“Night scenes are great; the later, the prettier!”
Sheng Yunlan waved at her, and the actress cheerfully ran over, still a mix of cough syrup and tomato sauce on her face.
“Director Sheng, do you have a red envelope for me?”
Sheng Yunlan hummed in response, pulling out a red envelope from his pocket, handing it to her.
“Great job. Keep working hard in the future.”
“Really?”
“En, especially your expression during your death scene; it was very on point.”
The actress: “…”
The assistant director couldn’t help but laugh.
This sound of laughter, reverberating through the mountains and forests, brought Luo Yu back to his senses.
He glanced at Gu Xiaowei to his side, whose face showed no emotion.
Luo Yu frowned slightly and suddenly leapt onto Gu Xiaowei’s back without warning.
Unprepared, Gu Xiaowei stumbled forward a step, instinctively gripping his legs and holding him higher.
“Classmate Gu, I was very careful today and didn’t hurt my ankle again. Shouldn’t you reward me a bit?” Luo Yu asked with a grin.
“Carry you down the mountain,” Gu Xiaowei said.
“No! The mountain path is steep, and if you fell down by yourself, that would be fine, but dragging me down too would be terrible,” Luo Yu patted Gu Xiaowei’s back and jumped down.
“So what do you want?” Gu Xiaowei asked.
“En, the sketchbook I confiscated, you can finish filling it up for me,” Luo Yu said with a commanding expression.
“Alright.”
“I mean my exclusive art collection—you can’t just draw cats, dogs, or random passersby to make up the rest of the pages. If I ever need to ship a CP for promotional use, I’ll set up a Gu Xiaowei art exhibition on my Weibo,” Luo Yu said, half-joking, while observing Gu Xiaowei’s reaction.
Unfortunately, Gu Xiaowei remained expressionless, simply replying, “Alright.”
“I’m saying I’ll use you for CP content,” Luo Yu pressed.
Gu Xiaowei glanced at him with a look full of “royal contempt.”
“Right now, I could let Meng Yu push us to trending. If you have the ability to hold off for thirty seconds without letting Sister Cui pull it down, then go ahead.”
“Don’t worry, I have thick skin. I’ll wish you longevity and wish our CP will last forever on Weibo.”
“Better to keep it that way.”
Watching them, Xiao Qin finally let out a sigh of relief. Sometimes, a role’s emotions could affect Gu Xiaowei for a long time, but this was the first time he was out of character so quickly.
No wonder he was referred to as “senior brother” by Gu Xiaowei. He always managed to pull him back from the script world into the real world.
The night scenes continued until five in the morning. After returning to the villa to rest, it was almost nine o’clock.
They were sitting around the table having breakfast when the staff from the resort arrived on an electric cart carrying box after box.
The moment the door opened, it left Xiao Yezi dumbfounded.
“What’s all this?”
The staff asked, “Is Mr. Luo Yu here?”
“Huh? I’m here, what is it?” Luo Yu set down his chopsticks and approached the door, staring at the mountain of boxes and becoming dazed.
“These are all your packages,” the staff said.
“But…I didn’t shop online…” Luo Yu murmured.
“It should be from your fans. They knew you were filming at our resort, so they sent these gifts here. Since these are meant for you, we don’t know how to handle them and brought them to you directly. Today is your birthday, isn’t it?” The staff paused and handed over a white box. “This is the resort’s special birthday cake for you. Happy birthday.”
“My…birthday?” Lu Yu stared at the staff and checked his phone.
“Oh, it really is my birthday!”
Ye Shengyi quickly took the cake from the staff. “Thank you! Really, thank you!”
“Wow, there are so many!”
Ah Yan and Mr. Jiang came to help move the gifts into the villa’s living room.
Before long, the living room was piled high with boxes.
“Damn, over a hundred of them! Brother Lu, you’re so popular!” Ye Shengyi exclaimed.
Luo Yu was still stunned. In his memories, his past birthdays were lonely affairs. All that remained were small moments with Sister Cui taking him out for a meal, skipping even candles and cake rituals. Later when he went to be a stage actor, no one bothered with his birthday either.
His last birthday memory was drinking beer backstage with Gu Xiaowei, who had become drunk himself first.
He looked at Gu Xiaowei subconsciously, only to find that the other man was already looking back at him.
“What should we do with these gifts? While it’s great to know you’re popular, some of these things might not be appropriate to accept—especially luxury goods,” Ye Shengyi said anxiously.
“I remember Sister Cui established a rule for your fans. Only letters and handmade gifts under two hundred yuan should be accepted,” Gu Xiaowei added.
“But there’s no team here to help us sort through these gifts… Should we leave them here until Sister Cui’s assistants arrive?” Ye Shengyi asked.
Luo Yu had already called Sister Cui to sort this out.
“Since it’s your birthday and these are fans’ kind intentions, we shouldn’t pour cold water on the mood. How about this—you record a few unboxing videos, and we’ll choose some to share? I’ll send someone to help unbox and examine the packages. If any gifts are too expensive, they’ll be returned with a letter. President Jiang’s meaning is that this way, we’ll also avoid…”
“Avoiding malicious rumors from people misusing the matter of the gifts from fans?” Luo Yu interrupted.
“Exactly,” Sister Cui confirmed. “But happy birthday, nonetheless. Did you know you trended on your birthday?”
“What? I trended on my birthday?” Luo Yu stared, disbelieving.
Ye Shengyi exclaimed, “Yes! #LuoYuHappyBirthday# is on the trending list!”
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“Did Sister Cui buy this headline?”
“No! This is just your fame—your fanbase is very active. Every little share adds up to a massive number!” Ye Shengyi added.
Luo Yu scratched his head. “So…I’ve gotten famous?”
Everyone fell into a long silence.
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