The moment his lips met Zhuang Xiao’s cheek, Pei Yan’s mind went blank and golden sparks seemed to flare before his eyes. His lips burned; astonishingly, the dimple beneath them was warm too. He caught that warmth and felt himself pulled helplessly into it.
There was no wine in that dimple, yet he was already drunk, and the world before him hardly seemed real. The smell of sweat, a faint scent of soap, and that intensely masculine scent of vigorous, hot-blooded strength… exactly the kind he liked best.
Time stood still for an instant. Pei Yan drew back and flung himself against the city wall in defeat, knocking the back of his head against it with a thud. His eyes finally found a bird flying across the distant sky, not once looking back. His heart rose after it, fell again, and still landed on the person before him…
Zhuang Xiao did not move either. They remained silent for a long time.
Fuck. They hadn’t even finished filming.
Those two actresses were still ripping into each other online.
Pei Yan regretted kissing him almost as soon as he had done it. Not that he regretted kissing Zhuang Xiao. He absolutely had to steal that kiss; if he was rejected, then fine. With his personality, he would never be satisfied until he confessed. He would die with regrets otherwise. But today was bad timing.
Zhuang Xiao had already taken blow after blow from the scandals, one to each cheek. Now Pei Yan had come along and clubbed him over the head again, practically knocking him unconscious. What was he supposed to do, demand that Mr. Zhuang choose one of three people on the spot? How inconsiderate could he be?
The autumn sky was clear, the sunlight pouring over their bodies without reserve. The golden wall seemed determined to illuminate every hidden corner of their hearts, leaving nowhere to conceal a thing.
Zhuang Xiao looked at Pei Yan. He was honestly shaken and moved in that moment. Who didn’t want to be cherished and spoiled as though they were something precious?
It felt so warm.
"I’m not just bored on set and fooling around with whoever happens to be there," Pei Yan said.
He was afraid Zhuang Xiao would mistake him for one of those people who found a casual bed partner while working on a production. There were plenty of them, inseparable and passionate during filming, only to go their separate ways afterward and never meet again.
"I brought you all the way back from America. I didn’t do that just to amuse myself with you. I mean it."
He added that last part deliberately.
"Are you happy when you’re with me now?" Zhuang Xiao asked.
"Whether I’m happy or not… well, that’s up to you…" Pei Yan mumbled, nearly swallowing his own tongue.
"I’m afraid that after a few days you’ll realize we don’t suit each other, that we’re not the same kind of people. I’m afraid you’ll get chilled and be disappointed." Zhuang Xiao spoke calmly and maturely, sometimes so coolheaded that Pei Yan wished he would be impulsive about something, just once.
He had expected Zhuang Xiao to leap up in outrage or kick him down all four hundred and eighty steps. But the man was so calm that he probably didn’t even know how to lose his temper anymore, much less hit him.
He had made a profit on that kiss.
If he’d known, he’d have kissed him straight on the mouth and grabbed his cock… Pei Yan twisted hard at his own chest in frustration. What a coward!
"I’ve looked carefully. I think we’re a good match," Pei Yan said.
"Don’t be an idiot!" Zhuang Xiao raised his hand and ruffled Pei Yan’s head, almost like an older brother teasing a younger one.
He did not lift his hand straight away, afraid Pei Yan would throw his head back and crack it against the wall again. His hand lingered, moved down to cradle the back of Pei Yan’s head, and gently set it against the stone.
"I’m not being stupid. I’m smart! I’ve got excellent taste!" Pei Yan protested.
Zhuang Xiao could not help laughing.
Pei Yan laughed too, then scrubbed his face awkwardly.
Zhuang Xiao told him, "I don’t have much faith in relationships. I don’t have any particular ambitions or expectations. I’ll be frank: I find it very, very hard to feel happy, or to feel any real sense of happiness. Life goes on however you live it. I just get through the ordinary days."
"And right now?" Pei Yan met his gaze and pointed to his own face. "Look at me. Don’t you feel even a little ambition stirring? Can’t you feel a bit of happiness?"
Zhuang Xiao was worn down by his persistence and smiled with difficulty. "There are things you haven’t experienced, and things you never will, so you can’t know how they feel… Maybe happiness just doesn’t come easily to some people."
Pei Yan: "…"
He had no answer again.
What was he supposed to say? He felt that Zhuang Xiao must have some tremendous misunderstanding about words like "feelings," "love," and "marriage." Something had gone terribly wrong somewhere.
But Pei Yan had no standing to lecture him, no right to declare his ideas mistaken and insist he need not settle for merely getting by. Happiness or unhappiness was something each person had to feel for themselves.
Had this man been suppressing himself for too long?
Had he gone too long without love?
*
Zhuang Xiao truly had kept himself tightly restrained for too many years. He desperately wanted to tell Mr. Pei: It’s very rare for me to feel happy, but chatting nonsense with you, watching you show off and clown around like a lunatic all day, somehow makes me genuinely delighted. Fuck, it’s getting addictive… How can you be so lovable? How do you make a person want to spoil you so much?
But to say that to another man seemed wrong in some indefinable way. He had never felt anything like this toward a man before.
"Are we going back or not? Don’t you have scenes today? I remember you’ve got some."
Zhuang Xiao stood up abruptly, his face expressionless. All that nonsense about happiness and unhappiness was over for now. He would never let outsiders see it.
"I’ve got two scenes," Pei Yan said, staying seated.
"You’re skipping work? Get back there! You’re making the whole crew wait for one person!" Zhuang Xiao urged with a frown.
Pei Yan snorted. He had already stripped away every scrap of pride and laid it here; now he stubbornly refused to leave. Zhuang Xiao caught his arm, but Pei Yan weighed himself down like an iron counterweight, dangling from the man’s hand without moving.
Zhuang Xiao tugged again and finally dragged him to his feet, then draped his own outer shirt over him. Left in a sleeveless top, he headed quickly downhill…
Halfway down, Zhuang Xiao silently picked up the jacket and cap Pei Yan had thrown beside the path.
Pei Yan stumbled downhill, his heart bobbing and swinging inside his chest, unable to settle.
Actually, the two of them suited each other wonderfully. Perfectly. Together they weren’t annoyed or tired of each other at all. They were simply happy.
Zhuang Xiao just hadn’t experienced it or tried it. Why not try?
Why had he been unhappy and unable to find happiness before? Look at those "girlfriends" he’d chosen. Honestly, Mr. Zhuang was skilled and professional about his work, but he fundamentally misunderstood love. He had simply never found the right person.
Pei Yan kept every one of those thoughts to himself.
By the time they reached the foot of Yanmen Pass, beside the gate tower, it was nearly noon. Pei Yan had definitely missed his morning scenes. They would have to make them up in the afternoon or evening.
There was a restaurant near the entrance to the scenic area. Zhuang Xiao suggested of his own accord, "We’ll only be eating boxed meals back there anyway. Let’s go in and eat properly first."
The small local restaurant greeted them with the delicious smell of hot chili oil as soon as they crossed the threshold, which suited them both perfectly. The menu offered one tempting noodle dish after another, so each ordered three big bowls, all different.
When the six bowls arrived, Pei Yan burst out laughing. "Good grief, I told you we ordered too much! These portions are really generous."
"If we can’t finish, we’ll pack it up for the production manager and director to eat for dinner," Zhuang Xiao said, picking up his chopsticks briskly.
"Hahaha! Aren’t you trying to drive them mad?" Pei Yan was delighted. Zhuang Xiao had a sly streak beneath the surface, and everything about him suited Pei Yan’s taste… even how good his body looked in a sleeveless shirt.
They bent over their food and demolished three bowls each with the force of conquering mountains and rivers. Fresh, fragrant, authentic. Fucking delicious.
There was a bowl of minced-meat saozi noodles, a bowl of knife-cut noodles, one of mutton-broth hele noodles, another of mutton-broth dough-drop noodles, and two whose names Pei Yan could no longer remember. Their mouths were ringed with red chili oil, as though their lips were swollen, but their faces glowed with renewed vitality.
"Sausage lips," Zhuang Xiao observed, looking up.
"Your lips are red too," Pei Yan replied.
"From the chili," Zhuang Xiao said.
"Your face is red too." Pei Yan kept eating happily. "That’s because I kissed you."
*
On the motorcycle-taxi ride back to the film base, Zhuang Xiao called the production to apologize on Mr. Pei’s behalf and say Pei Yan would return to make up his missed scenes that afternoon. Once back, they separated for makeup, costumes, and their individual scenes. Neither mentioned what had happened, acting as though nothing had.
Filming was not over. Their fellow crew members were watching, and reporters kept wandering in to visit the set.
Zhuang Xiao told the director, "I ran into Old Pei along the way. I went to climb the Great Wall for my morning workout. Coincidentally, he was exercising there too."
The director gave him a look. "You two really have a problem, you know that? Climbing Han-dynasty Great Wall ruins for your morning exercise?"
Zhuang Xiao looked back. "With the work we do, can we afford not to train? Stop training, and your belly ends up looking like yours."
Everyone around them burst into laughter.
Zhuang Xiao rarely bothered to insult anyone, but when he did, he had definitely decided to hit that person today. The victim seldom dared reply.
Pei Yan was shooting a dialogue scene on the neighboring set with a crowd of fine-featured young eunuchs behind him. He laughed so hard his official robe shook, his rouge-and-vermilion brows and eyes radiating the charm of peach blossoms.
The director pressed Zhuang Xiao again. "Come on, tell the truth. What were you two doing for an entire morning?"
"The truth?" Zhuang Xiao asked without batting an eye. "There’s a really authentic noodle shop outside Yanmen Pass, and Old Pei found out about it. That glutton heard about it from an old woman selling radishes. He wanted it so badly he couldn’t even concentrate on acting, insisted on going to eat. You know how he loves spicy food.
"He just wanted to drag somebody along, so the two of us went and ate knife-cut noodles and mutton-broth hele. Really authentic. I almost brought some back for you. You should all go try it!"
Pei Yan glanced sideways at Zhuang Xiao’s face.
Zhuang Xiao spoke with such frank sincerity. Pei Yan was happy. He liked that about him.
His heart was aching, but his face was all smiles.
Zhuang Xiao had not agreed to be "together" with him. Both knew that, and neither would tell a third person. They wore perfectly ordinary smiles. Zhuang Xiao was gentle-eyed and smiling toward everyone on set, with no trace of emotional upheaval. There was never anything to reveal, good or bad.
For some reason, a word that had recently grown popular online flashed through Pei Yan’s mind: "smiling depression."
Some people quietly suppressed everything inside, silently sinking into melancholy, unable to find happiness easily. A solitary lighthouse stood on the coast, lighting the sea to guide travelers who passed by chance. For a thousand years it remained in one place, hard and silent…
The following day, the production finally welcomed another heavyweight figure.
Who had arrived? Leading actor Xing Rong had joined the crew.
As they took breaks from filming, many crew members checked Weibo and talked about how his whole itinerary was online. Half a day ago he had left the Zhejiang film base, then reached Beijing, and now was about to transfer to a flight here. Even during his connection, fans posted pictures documenting where he was.
Two hours later he appeared at the local airport, and more photographs surfaced.
After that, a van brought Xing Rong and his party to the production. They had made a long journey and were visibly exhausted. Xing Rong himself was inconspicuous in the crowd, sunglasses and a black mask hiding the dark circles beneath his eyes.
The crew finally had to begin clearing and cordoning off the location. Apparently, if they didn’t fence it off, his fans would occupy the entire hillside and cheer for their darling Rong through every scene.
The manager and director greeted the young man politely and arranged for him to rest at the hotel first, with filming to begin tomorrow morning.
But Xing Rong didn’t leave immediately. He walked around the set greeting each colleague politely, bending at the waist in bows of at least forty-five degrees, and had brought gifts for everybody.
He had arrived late and inconvenienced each department, so the gifts were his apology.
Each present bore a label naming its recipient. His assistant had also brought an entire cart of snacks for everyone to munch on between takes.
Zhuang Xiao was discussing the next mounted-combat scene with the special-effects team. Feeling hot, he shrugged his outer period costume down and tied it around his waist, exposing the white satin undergarment beneath.
Pei Yan, meanwhile, was chatting up an elderly Kazakh man and playing with his eagle. He stuffed the magnificent bird with biscuits and beef jerky, secretly making it an offer: "Baby, big bird, listen. Find that guy in the bamboo hat and coarse robes carrying a spear. Perch on his head and drop a golden turd. Let’s see whether he finally loses his temper…"
Xing Rong certainly knew how to win people over. Look at Young Master Pei, who brought snacks only to eat them himself or share them with Brother Xiao. He wouldn’t bother bringing gifts for other people or making social rounds. He was far too arrogant for that.
Xing Rong approached Zhuang Xiao and removed his black mask. "Mr. Zhuang."
Zhuang Xiao looked up.
Xing Rong bent in a bow. "Hello. I’m truly sorry for causing everyone inconvenience by arriving several days late. Please look after me, Mr. Zhuang."
"No need for ‘Mister.’ Just use my name." Zhuang Xiao nodded. "It was a tiring trip, wasn’t it? Go get some rest."
After a few polite remarks, Zhuang Xiao was turning to climb onto a rooftop to help the effects crew pull a traction rope when Xing Rong pressed a present on him. It was an oversized electric hand-warmer with a cheerful red doll face, a thoughtful gift.
"Brother Xiao," Xing Rong said, instantly adopting the new form of address, his eyes curving as he smiled, "it’s cold here, and the hotel heating might not be great. This hand-warmer will help when your hands and feet get cold."
Zhuang Xiao nodded. "Thanks."
"You’re welcome, Brother," Xing Rong said with a smile.
Pei Yan was crouching nearby, eyes narrowed sideways, watching the whole thing…
Xing Rong came over toward him next. Pei Yan was busy playing with the impressive bird and almost kissing it, not afraid it might peck him. Xing Rong was just about to call him "Brother Pei" when he realized that something felt wrong.
Pei Yan raised his eyes. "Yeah?"
What was wrong?
They knew each other already, working for the same company. Xing Rong knew perfectly well that Pei Yan was several years younger than him!
Which one was supposed to be the older brother?
Which one on this set was the bouncy, tender young fresh meat?
However popular he might be, Xing Rong couldn’t fight his age. He was twenty-eight already, only a few months younger than Zhuang Xiao.
His face was eternally youthful, forever eighteen, and he looked an entire twelve-year zodiac cycle younger than Zhuang Xiao. But he’d debuted years ago, and no matter how young he looked, he couldn’t rewrite his ID card. They were completely different types of actor. A martial-arts leading man like Zhuang Xiao, at home in costume or modern roles, needn’t fear getting older; the industry had too few of his kind, and if he stayed fit, he could still play the lead and be an action superstar at fifty. But for a fresh-faced idol, approaching thirty felt like the progress bar of time was choking the life out of him. The next generation was coming whether he liked it or not, and he had to think about how his career would evolve.
Xing Rong adapted instantly. "Yan-Yan!" he called affectionately.
What the hell? Such intimacy sent a shiver down Young Master Pei’s spine. He wanted to say, Too bad you’re not Zhuang Xiao. No matter what you call me, you can’t get me hard. And even Zhuang Xiao’s never called me that…
Xing Rong offered his gift with a smile. "I got you something small. It’s nothing expensive. Hope you don’t mind."
"Of course not, thanks." You didn’t slap someone offering a friendly smile. Pei Yan accepted it. However much Xing Rong said it was cheap, he had clearly put thought into it. Inside an elegant wooden case sat a multifunctional bottle opener for serious drinkers, able to open all sorts of wine bottles, with a handle resembling natural amber and made in some little European country. It was lovely.
"I know you like drinking," Xing Rong said with a laugh. "But I couldn’t exactly carry a case of wine here for you."
"This is great. I love it!" Pei Yan grinned and clapped the younger-looking man’s narrow shoulder. "Ah-Xiao just brought me some good bottles all the way from Canada and I haven’t opened them. Good wine and just the right tool. Perfect!"
The corner of Xing Rong’s mouth twitched. "Heh… is that so."
Who hadn’t heard about the wildly popular Zhuang-Pei pairing online, those inseparable bosom buddies who even fed each other?
Young Mr. Xing had just arrived, yet after one courteous round of the set and special attention to the important people, the grumbling about him had largely died down. Everybody returned to working together.
That was why Xing Rong was popular. A traffic-driving young idol never became famous for absolutely no reason.
Stars did not necessarily throw their weight around in public or act like divas. Everybody in this industry was cunning. If you acted entitled and made trouble on set, people would dislike you. The same people who could help you succeed and make you famous could just as easily bring you down and ruin your image.
Everybody had strengths and weaknesses. Acting wasn’t Xing Rong’s strength, neither were line delivery, dramatic scenes, or martial arts. He didn’t know a single real fighting move. But with his handsome face and polite, considerate manner, his public image could move mountains. Press releases along the lines of "Darling Rong Brings Snacks and Thoughtful Gifts for Entire Film Crew: Gentleman’s Tiny Gestures Warm Hearts" flooded Weibo marketing accounts that evening.
His management company had chosen the right angle for crafting his image. After all, what else did they have to sell? For an actor like Pei Yan, the media always talked about how savagely he fought on screen and how viciously he played villains. Who cared whether he kept his hands politely to himself or struck a bent-kneed "courtesy stance" when posing for photos with actresses?
That evening they returned to the hotel after filming.
Xing Rong’s team was the largest. They were probably staying on the floor above, so their paths wouldn’t cross much.
Pei Yan had showered and was tucked under the covers when a WeChat message came from Zhuang Xiao: 【Want to use the electric hand-warmer?】
He quickly answered: 【Keep it for yourself.】
Zhuang Xiao replied: 【Don’t you hate being cold? You shiver all day. Take it if you need it.】
Pei Yan’s lips curved without his willing them to. His heart began generating its own electricity, running at twenty-five thousand watts, glowing brilliantly. He wasn’t cold at all.
He wrote: 【No need. I’m a hand-warmer myself. Want to use me?】
He felt awkward the moment he sent it. Fuck, how was Zhuang Xiao supposed to answer that?
The other side of the screen remained unruffled. Zhuang Xiao continued with practical business: 【I’ll get my makeup done first tomorrow. You stay asleep.】
Pei Yan hurriedly wrote: 【No need. I’ll go first. My wig is complicated and takes forever.】
Zhuang Xiao answered: 【I’ll go first. There’s someone behind me whose wig is even more troublesome and takes even longer. You shouldn’t be first.】
The next morning, Zhuang Xiao truly got up before dawn and went first to have makeup and the wig attached. When he was finished, he stretched in the open space beside the room, then sat completely still to rest with his eyes closed.
After Pei Yan arrived, he sought out Zhuang Xiao first. Creeping up behind him, he hooked an arm around his neck and pretended to wrench him backward. Halfway through, he hastily said, "Whoops, your back’s bad. I won’t torment you…"
They leaned close and talked nonsense, then checked their phones together and exchanged fan art they had found on Weibo. By now they could look at the shamelessly romantic material without changing expression or missing a heartbeat. It was all produced by fans on both sides enthusiastically shipping the pair.
By the time Xing Rong entered the large makeup room, Pei Yan’s hair and makeup were nearly done. He smiled at Xing Rong, then turned right back to Mr. Zhuang for more idle banter.
Zhuang Xiao got to his feet, pulled out a cigarette, and went outside to find somewhere to smoke and relieve his fatigue. He was already growing sleepy.
Pei Yan bounded after him, borrowed a lighter from somebody, leapt into Zhuang Xiao’s path in a particularly dashing pose, and lit his cigarette.
Their foreheads nearly touched, lashes flickering slightly as their eyes met in a smile. Everything that mattered passed between them without a word…
Xing Rong looked around with his mouth half open, watching the two of them.
Only then did he realize that he had been last into makeup today, forcing the others to have their wigs fixed on and wait specially for him. That wasn’t appropriate. From tomorrow on, the makeup crew would probably have to draw up a rotating schedule of early starts for all three major stars. Nobody could be offended.
Pei Yan had always thought Zhuang Xiao lukewarm toward him, their relationship neither close nor distant, as though the kiss had never happened. That was only his perspective. Pursuing Zhuang Xiao openly was even more nerve-racking than loving him in secret. He had no reassurance and was forever torn between hope and anxiety.
To outsiders, though, he and Zhuang Xiao were already incredibly close. Far too close.
It was as though they were working together deliberately, providing free behind-the-scenes footage and publicity material all day. Pink bubbles seemed to float through the flashing blades and sword shadows. Could this actually be real?
*