Compared with the troublemakers on Xing Rong’s team, Pei Yan had hardly caused any trouble on the set of Dragon Battles Heaven’s Pass lately. He’d been unusually quiet and well behaved, completely contrary to his nature.
Not only was he conscientious about filming, he was pleasant to the staff and welcomed every fan or paparazzo who wandered onto the set. This time he hadn’t thrown a tantrum or smashed anyone’s car. In the end, it was because his thoughts were fixed on one person. Even his temperament had changed. He’d become gentle.
For him, filming alongside Zhuang Xiao was a pleasure in itself. It was exactly like the wish he’d made beneath the sacred tree on that Pacific island: to see the person he liked every morning when the sun rose. It made him so happy.
Filming was nearly over. There weren’t many days of romance left on the grasslands. Of course he wanted to treasure them.
* * *
They were filming a dangerous aerial sequence atop the fortress walls. The director had suggested using stunt doubles for the long-distance shots of both actors.
Before the assistant director could lift his megaphone and call for Sa Risheng, Zhuang Xiao stopped him. “Forget it. Don’t call him. I’ll do it.”
People around them looked at Zhuang Xiao. He shook his head. “It’s fine. I can do all of this myself. Stunt work depends on your state of mind too. If he’s upset, he’s more easily distracted, and an accident’s more likely. Better let me do it.”
Then Zhuang Xiao felt someone tugging at the safety line behind him. The person had been secretly pulling at it for ages. How annoying.
The production manager’s earlier complaint about the troublemakers on set hadn’t been comprehensive enough. There was another troublemaker right here, except his true colors only appeared when he was around Brother Xiao.
With the line pulling him backward, Zhuang Xiao was forced to step aside. He turned his head. What do you want now?
“What are you trying to do?” Pei Yan retorted. “You do your own work and then insist on doing everybody else’s too. Weren’t you the one who taught me not to eat the whole meal out of a bowl by myself?”
Zhuang Xiao communicated with his eyes and the shape of his mouth. “I’m giving Xiao-Sa a day off. The kid’s bound to be upset.”
Pei Yan wouldn’t give in. “I’m worried you’ll get hurt hanging up there…”
Zhuang Xiao said, “I’m used to stunt wires. What’s dangerous about it? I know what I’m doing.”
Pei Yan turned toward the director. “I’m not using a double either. I’ll do my own work!”
Zhuang Xiao frowned and glared at him. What are you up to?
Pei Yan went straight to the director. “Hey, would you rather have Brother Xiao fighting a stunt double or me? He’s only good enough to fight me, right? Does a double deserve him?!”
Pei Yan knew Zhuang Xiao was fiercely loyal and always protected the people around him. He was warm toward practically everybody, but when it came to his own affairs, he was cold and careless, as though none of it mattered.
The scenery around them was magnificent. Crimson clouds filled the sky as though somebody had overturned a basin of blood above the grassland, and a layer of fire seemed to burn across the tips of the grass.
The spectacular setting suited the plot and the actors’ moods perfectly. Pei Yan and Zhuang Xiao hung beside the fortress wall, fighting back and forth through countless exchanges, up and down, then down and up again…
In some shots, Pei Yan flew above Zhuang Xiao and leaned forward to bring his saber down in a murderous slash at his head.
In the next few shots, Zhuang Xiao turned things around, swooping down from above to attack Pei Yan.
While fighting, they wore expressions of desperate fury, as though each was determined to kill the other. The instant the camera stopped, they became peaceful again, meeting one another’s eyes and smiling.
Every time they finished a shot, the crew had to hoist them back up and lower them into the starting positions once more. Zhuang Xiao took the opportunity to wrap an arm around Mr. Pei’s waist in midair, carrying him up and then lowering him again. Seen from a distance against the fortress wall, it would have made a breathtaking picture against the blood-red sun and vast sky. One of them wore white, the other red, their bodies pressed together as they rose toward the battlements, hat ribbons and clothing streaming in the wind…
The flash of swords and the gleam of sabers reflected in their eyes. Fragments scraped loose from the brick walls and struck their faces until they could barely keep their eyes open, yet they still wanted to open them and see each other clearly…
When it was Zhuang Xiao’s turn to plunge down from above, his eyes turned red. He was clearly uncomfortable and only just holding himself together, but he endured several more takes.
The director, wrapped in a military greatcoat, called from the battlements through a megaphone. “We’ve got it! Very good, that’s the one! Come up, both of you!”
Far above and far below, figures moved like shadows in the distance between heaven and earth. Close at hand there were only the two of them, their eyelashes almost touching. Zhuang Xiao was panting softly, his face pale. Even after the shot ended he remained upside down in the harness, one foot hooked into a hollow between the bricks to help maintain his balance.
Pei Yan looked up at him.
He stepped up the wall a few paces, hurriedly braced Zhuang Xiao, and held him carefully across his arms, not daring to turn or shift his position at random.
“Does it hurt badly?”
His voice was low.
Supporting him with one hand beneath the ribs, he reached over him with the other. “Can you turn yourself around? Move slowly, then. I’ll shift to the side. Lean against the wall first…”
He swung gradually toward the wall, both men still suspended against the sheer face of the fortress. Supported by Pei Yan, Zhuang Xiao placed one hand on the bricks and moved inch by inch in something resembling slow motion. At last he managed to fold himself upright and lean against the wall.
“Fuck, I really am old, sick, crippled, and useless now…” Zhuang Xiao muttered.
“That painful?” Pei Yan touched him and discovered the entire back of Zhuang Xiao’s clothes was soaked through. His heart clenched. “And you lecture me! You love showing off how tough you are too. You’re so fucking impressive, aren’t you?”
Pei Yan raised his voice to call the people above and told them to haul both of them up.
The moment they reached the battlements, Hero Zhuang collapsed facedown. He didn’t even have time to unfasten his harness before lying flat on the hard bricks, unable to get up. He’d endured that long upside-down shot with all the blood rushing to his head, and his lower back felt ready to snap.
The production manager hastily sent people from logistics running around. Was there a decent massage therapist anywhere nearby? Get one over here! Once the filming was over, they could carry Mr. Zhuang to the hotel for massage and hydrotherapy.
The stunt crew remained busy on the fortress walls, going back and forth to prepare the wires for the next stunt. They were about to throw Eunuch Cen from the battlements.
A steel cable would be hurled out, the character would fall, hang suspended, die, and lose his head. The script called for a gruesome death.
Of course the entire series of shots couldn’t be filmed continuously. Each would be shot separately, connected with precision, and edited together later.
Red and yellow leaves flew through the air, creating an atmosphere of flamboyant beauty and sorrow for a love that could never be returned. The props and pyrotechnics teams blasted wind machines across the battlements, sending petals and leaves swirling so thickly they almost blinded everyone.
The makeup artist touched up Pei Yan’s face again, deepening the colors around his eyes. The outer eyeliner gleamed and the inner rims of his eyes were red, suggesting bleeding eyes and a desperate death struggle.
Before the actual throw, Pei Yan jumped out once to rehearse his position.
When the wires pulled him back in, somebody suddenly grabbed his ankle as he passed.
Zhuang Xiao was still lying facedown under a military greatcoat. He had caught Pei Yan by the foot. Pei Yan crouched. “What’s up?”
Zhuang Xiao looked at him. “Be careful when you jump. Make sure the safety line’s fastened properly.”
“I know.”
Zhuang Xiao went on, “Why’s your face so red? Is the rope cutting into your neck?”
Pei Yan felt his face. “No. We haven’t even reached the neck-strangling shot.”
The camera washed out color, so the makeup had to be exaggerated. Pei Yan’s entire eye sockets, upper and lower lids, and temples were painted crimson. The makeup artist had practically emptied the black case of every shade of blush. Powder wasn’t strong enough and might come off, so they’d also used liquid and cream.
Zhuang Xiao seemed about to speak, then stopped. He reached out to touch a faint red mark visible on Pei Yan’s neck.
Pei Yan understood and smiled. “It’s fine. Since when did you get so fussy?”
Zhuang Xiao was actually someone who carried a great deal in his heart, Pei thought. He just didn’t tell outsiders, and rarely expressed himself.
Zhuang Xiao told him, “For the past few nights I’ve been dreaming. I keep seeing that horse dragging you along. That scene won’t leave my head…”
Warmth flooded Pei Yan’s heart. He smiled. “Really, I’m fine… These shots are filmed separately. They’re all faked. We’re not doing it for real.”
Zhuang Xiao reached out and checked the buckle on the safety line behind him once more.
It was like this every time. They’d developed an unspoken habit together. As long as Zhuang Xiao had checked Pei Yan’s wires, everything would be safe, and he’d get the shot in a single take.
The instant Pei Yan was thrown from the fortress wall, the movement was extraordinarily beautiful.
Pink, red, and white petals filled the sky. Golden dust drifted down onto the distant meadow. His eyes were resolute and his body flew into the air, long white hair suddenly tossed loose by the fierce wind, streaming out with the heart plunging toward death…
He looked for the last time toward “Yun Zhong” above the fortress gate.
And in that final glance, he really did see Zhuang Xiao. Pei Yan had been shaping his expression toward that direction, and Zhuang Xiao happened to be pushing himself upright with one hand braced against the wall, watching him perform the stunt, watching him be flung from the battlements.
Robes and cape billowed into the air, spreading a brilliant crimson backdrop behind Pei Yan’s long hair and setting it against the vast blue sky. He fell like that through the boundless blood-red light, under everyone’s anxious gaze, his figure passing fleetingly across Zhuang Xiao’s eyes…
In the camera’s view, there was a faint trace of vindictive satisfaction at the corner of his mouth in the moment of death, and also the sorrow of a final farewell.
He opened both hands as though offering one last embrace across the empty air.
Then he fell swiftly and vanished from the frame…
A crash mat waited only three meters below. The romance lasted less than two seconds. Outside the camera’s rain of petals, Pei Yan landed with a muffled pfft on the mat and got another solid mouthful of yellow dirt.
The director shouted while watching the monitor, “Good! Very good! That’s enough, Yanbao! Come back up!”
Pei Yan shook out his hair, now tangled into something resembling a huge bird’s nest, hopped over the crenellations, and climbed back onto the fortress wall. Costume and makeup staff immediately surrounded their darling Yanbao to brush off dirt, rearrange his hair, and touch up his face yet again.
He proudly high-fived the director, the cinematographer, and the producer. In truth he was working his way toward a perfectly natural opportunity to high-five Mr. Zhuang and secretly hold his hand for a moment.
Zhuang Xiao reminded him, “When you film the neck-strangling shot later, put an extra layer of padding around your neck.”
Pei Yan said, “It’s re-e-eally fine. It’s just a fake noose.”
Zhuang Xiao’s tone brooked no argument. “I’m telling you to put another layer on. They can erase it in post-production anyway!”
“All ri-i-ight.”
Zhuang Xiao frowned, lay down again right where he was, and pulled the military greatcoat over himself. He didn’t want to watch the next shot.
Once he’d settled, he added one more sentence for Mr. Pei. “Try not to accept so many villain roles in the future. Stop filming scenes like this. It’s unlucky… Don’t keep taking parts where the character gets killed off.”
Something shifted in Pei Yan’s expression. He nudged Zhuang Xiao gently. “What’s got into you…?”
Now the man was telling him which roles he could and couldn’t accept?
And the scenes Zhuang Xiao objected to weren’t nude scenes or anything of the kind. He was forbidding Pei Yan from taking roles where he got killed.
The way Zhuang Xiao turned his face aside and covered his head was fucking adorable. It was almost as though he were acting spoiled with Pei Yan.
Since when had a man like Zhuang Xiao ever acted spoiled with anybody?
Pei Yan wanted to strip this man naked right there. He wanted to fuck him, to fuck moans out of his mouth, to keep fucking him until Zhuang Xiao personally admitted: I really do care for you this deeply. I really do like you this much…
Above the fortress wall, the final shot showed Pei Yan hanging against the bricks from a prop steel cable.
Artificial blood ran down the wall behind him, tracing the gaps between the bricks and staining the desolate earth tones beyond the pass scarlet.
He opened bloodstained lips, gasped and struggled violently, legs kicking, then slowly gave up. Yet what filled his eyes and his mind at that moment was the naked body of the man he liked.
He imagined Zhuang Xiao’s back, the line of his spine. Before, he’d only caught fleeting glimpses and had never had a chance to touch him. He pictured the beautifully defined muscles, that lower back made weary by years of work yet still sexy, the tempting V-lines below his abdomen, the firm curve of his buttocks…
He gasped and growled with abandon, hearing nothing but his own ragged breathing and pounding heart. Between heaven and earth floated the restless image of that naked back. He imagined pressing Zhuang Xiao beneath him and couldn’t help smiling through a mouthful of blood.
A pear blossom branch pressing down a begonia: if he could enjoy such intimate pleasure with Mr. Zhuang in this life, even death would be worthwhile.
His fantasies alone could make him climax. He tipped his head back, a thread of blood sliding from the corner of his mouth, and at the ecstatic climax of his death throes, he breathed his last in immense satisfaction…
The director bellowed, “Good!”
“Got it! That’s a wrap!”
“Take it down! Pull him up!”
The whole crew applauded in relief, cheering the Young Hero’s performance in his final death struggle.
Pei Yan had finally wrapped all his scenes on the grassland. There was still a fleeting shot of a severed head, but the props department had prepared a blood-soaked model head for that. He wouldn’t have to appear in person.
The producer paid and the director personally handed out red envelopes, an unwritten custom on film sets.
Every martial-arts performer or extra who died on camera or played a corpse received a small red envelope.
As the only leading cast member whose character had died, Pei Yan got a large red envelope from the production. He felt the thick stack inside. Perhaps twenty thousand yuan. According to tradition, he ought to spend the money quickly to get rid of the bad luck rather than save it.
Logistics staff carried Zhuang Xiao on a stretcher to a trailer, which took him back to the hotel.
Entertainment reporters had already sneaked into the scenic-area hotel and were lying in wait to take photos and ask questions. When they spotted the stretcher, they rushed over. A whole group from the production surrounded it, raised their hands to block the cameras, and hurried through the lobby in a swarm, carrying Zhuang Xiao upstairs.
Some clueless reporters even tried to follow Sa Risheng. They clearly weren’t afraid of getting hacked to pieces. Perhaps the more than two-hundred-yuan daily admission charge to the scenic area and the three-hundred-yuan hotel rooms had seemed such a rip-off that they felt they’d wasted their money unless they got an interview or took a few slashes from a knife. Consequently, the Little Prince never returned to the hotel that evening. He rode off on horseback and hid in one of the yurts…
Where on earth would you find a trustworthy massage therapist in such a godforsaken place? Nobody dared casually summon a barefoot doctor who used local folk remedies, either. When Pei Yan visited Hero Zhuang’s room to check on the patient, he discovered Zhuang Xiao lying facedown on the carpet, with a bedsheet beneath him and a thin blanket over his body.
“Sleeping on the floor?” Pei Yan crouched to look at him.
“The bed’s too soft,” Zhuang Xiao said quietly.
Beneath the thin blanket he wore a T-shirt, his lower back exposed. The air smelled faintly of medicated oil.
Several crew members came and went, but eventually they had the sense to leave them alone. Pei Yan placed a hand on Zhuang Xiao’s lower back. “Want me to rub it for you?”
Zhuang Xiao glanced at him. Don’t rub it carelessly. It hurts.
A wicked little smile appeared on Pei Yan’s face. “I won’t rub the part that hurts.”
Zhuang Xiao understood perfectly well and answered with one word. “Scram.”
Pei Yan was shameless. “I take ‘scram’ to mean you’re only pretending to refuse, and really you’re giving me permission to touch you all over.”
A dimple appeared beside Zhuang Xiao’s mouth. “Don’t make me laugh… My back hurts every time I do.”
Pei Yan rubbed some more medicated oil into his palms, laid them gently over Zhuang Xiao’s back and waist, and began pressing carefully. He didn’t understand massage or physical therapy, so he didn’t dare knead at random. For the first time he felt regretful that he’d never cared for someone properly and hadn’t learned how to look after another person with his hands. Other than fighting, it seemed he didn’t know how to do anything.
His palms slowly warmed. Zhuang Xiao’s back trembled faintly beneath them.
But Pei Yan still couldn’t stop himself from indulging a naughty thought, counting on Zhuang Xiao’s patience and the fact he generally wouldn’t get angry. His hand slipped downward almost of its own accord, reached into the space between the man and the bedsheet, and found what he was looking for. He grasped him through the thin fabric of his trousers.
Something flashed in Zhuang Xiao’s eyes. He said nothing.
After a while, though, he couldn’t endure it anymore. Frowning, he said, “Stop fooling around. It really hurts whenever I move.”
“Then don’t move! Stop pushing against my hand. Why’re you poking me?” Pei Yan complained shamelessly.
The hardening thing was very much alive, capable of swelling and moving and giving a clear response. A single touch proved there was nothing organically wrong with it. The man was in the prime of his life, strong and healthy.
“I’m not doing anything bad. Just checking your measurements.” Pei Yan smiled.
“Are you satisfied with the measurements?” Zhuang Xiao gave him a cold smile. Neither man in this room was a blushing virgin. They were old hands. Who was afraid of whom?
“Extremely satisfied. It’s huge, and you’ve got quite a powerful weapon.” Pei Yan stared openly. “Want to measure mine too? Are you satisfied with my figure?”
Zhuang Xiao buried his face and ignored the invitation. If things really got out of hand, an erection would pull at his muscles, and his back fucking hurt. It felt as if it was about to come loose at the joints.
Zhuang Xiao dragged the wandering hand away, then took a folded stack of banknotes from his trouser pocket and slapped it into Pei Yan’s hand.
“What’s this for?” Pei Yan had suddenly been handed money. The bills were folded and wrapped in a sheet of red paper improvised from who knew where, a rather crude version of a red envelope.
“A red envelope for you, to ward off bad luck. Be sensible and hurry up and spend it.” Zhuang Xiao glanced at him sideways. He wasn’t speaking loudly, yet something in his voice always carried authority in Pei Yan’s ears. If Brother Xiao told him to do something, he would listen and obey.
Pei Yan cupped Zhuang Xiao’s face in one hand, pushed his fingers into the long hair and caressed him, then leaned forward and kissed him hard.
* * *