The new drama was scheduled to start filming on the 6th, leaving very little time. As soon as the contract was signed, Xie Yun handed the script to Zhong Weishi and told him to start memorizing it.
The assistant had just finished photocopying it. It was thick like a textbook, heavy in the hand, and any random page you flipped to had lines for the male lead.
Zhong Weishi buried his face in the pages and took a deep breath, catching a faint scent of ink. He was like a goblin who had just inhaled a massive dose of vitality, his whole being seemed to radiate with energy.
To him, this wasn’t just a script. It was a beam of light illuminating the path ahead. In it, he saw hope and clearly saw the road beneath his feet.
Maybe one day, he really could leave Yucheng and move to a bigger city.
Maybe one day, he could truly become someone different.
New year, new beginnings.
Zhong Weishi spent the entire New Year immersed in the joy of getting to act in a drama, completely unable to pull himself away. He managed to find time to return to his hometown and visit Grandma Zhao, and for the rest of the days, he was high on adrenaline, memorizing his lines like he was pumped with chicken blood.
On the eve of the Lantern Festival, Zhong Weishi treated a few friends from the Nanhu Drama Club to a meal.
It was a kind of farewell.
Because he probably wouldn’t have much time to act in stage plays anymore.
The one who had originally brought him into the drama club was a veteran actor named Fu, already in his seventies, with nearly fifty years in the industry. In his younger days, he’d been a martial arts actor. He and Zhong Weishi had a strong bond, always referring to each other as mentor and apprentice.
Zhong Weishi was most reluctant to part with him.
“No matter how far you fly, never forget your roots.” Elder Fu always looked at him with a warm smile, as if looking at his own son. “Come back and visit whenever you can, recharge a little. No matter how small this place is, there will always be a spot for you here.”
He knew that once the little sparrow’s wings grew strong, it was bound to fly away, so he wasn’t all that surprised.
Before they parted, he gave Zhong Weishi a calligraphy piece: “Heaven rewards diligence; tranquility brings far-reaching goals.”
The brushwork was bold and vigorous, wild and full of spirit, just like his own personality.
Zhong Weishi’s eyes were red. “I’ll definitely come back to visit you all.”
Old-Timer Fu said, “I hope the next time I see you, it’ll be on TV.”
Zhong Weishi nodded hard.
To him, the past six months of performing in the drama club had been far more valuable than his four previous years working as an extra.
What Senior Fu had taught him were lessons he would benefit from for a lifetime.
With the TV drama about to start shooting, Zhong Weishi had already memorized most of his lines fluently. Gu Lizhou, who was playing the “female lead,” had also been dragged into practicing lines with him so often that he could recite them in his sleep.
In early March, Xie Yun sent Zhong Weishi the WeChat profile of the actress playing the female lead, hoping the two could get familiar with each other before filming began, so their on-camera expressions wouldn’t come off too stiff.
The girl’s name was Guo Manyu. She was twenty-eight, cheerful and outgoing. Right off the bat, she sent a bunch of silly meme stickers. Chatting with her felt easy for Zhong Weishi.
Since they were both newcomers, Zhong Weishi was curious and clicked into her Moments to see what she looked like.
Gu Lizhou floated out from the living room like a ghost. “What are you looking at now?”
“You scared me.” Zhong Weishi laughed and teased, “Checking out a pretty girl.”
Gu Lizhou snatched the phone from behind him, and Zhong Weishi quickly reached out to grab it back. The two of them tussled, evenly matched.
“Let go! Are you letting go or not? If you don’t, I’m gonna bite you ah!” Zhong Weishi pointed at his nose.
“Bite me!” Gu Lizhou tightened his grip on the phone.
Then a shrill wail rang out: “You beast! Let go! Let go with your mouth!”
There were already two neat rows of crescent-shaped bite marks on the back of Gu Lizhou’s hand.
“Are you part dog or something?”
“Woof!”
Gu Lizhou burst out laughing, and in the end, the two of them squeezed their heads together to look at the screen.
Guo Manyu had a tall, upright figure, clearly the result of regular training. Her arms and legs were firm and toned, very different from some of the other female celebrities who were so thin they looked out of shape.
She definitely looked like an athlete. Though her appearance wasn’t stunning, it was natural and pure. Her eyes, in particular, were full of life and matched the image of the female lead in the novel quite well.
“What do you think?” Zhong Weishi glanced at him.
“So-so.”
“I thought so too. Not even as pretty as Da Fei in drag.”
Gu Lizhou smirked.
After chatting with the girl for a few minutes, Zhong Weishi put his phone down and continued rehearsing lines with Gu Lizhou.
This scene featured the male and female leads having a picnic with their teammates.
The female lead, slightly tipsy, asked the male lead what kind of girls he liked. The male lead stared into her eyes and answered, “Take a guess.”
Before the female lead had time to guess, her best friend dragged her away to help with the grill.
Aside from playing the female lead, Luo Yin, Gu Lizhou also had to read lines for the supporting characters.
At this moment, one of the male friends chimed in to help the lead: “If someone suddenly asks you what type of person you like, there are usually two possibilities: either she likes you, or her friend likes you.”
Zhong Weishi: “So do you think it’s her who likes me, or her friend?”
“It’s definitely her who likes you ah. Didn’t you see how she kept staring at you? You can’t hide the way you look at someone you like.”
Gu Lizhou couldn’t memorize that many lines, so he read straight from the script the whole time. His tone was lazy and flat, completely devoid of emotion, but Zhong Weishi was still fully immersed in the scene.
Once the scene ended, Gu Lizhou suddenly turned his head and asked, “Do you like that type of girl?”
“Huh?” Zhong Weishi was briefly stunned.
“Do you like girls like Luo Yin?” Gu Lizhou felt like he’d dropped a pretty obvious hint.
As long as Zhong Weishi took a step, even half a step, he would walk the remaining ninety-nine and a half without hesitation.
Zhong Weishi quickly averted his gaze. “There’s no such thing as Luo Yin in real life.”
The setting sun slowly dipped below the horizon, and the sky looked as if it had been scorched by fire with a stretch of deep orange-red that seemed to go on forever.
They sat side by side on the edge of the balcony. From upstairs came the sound of a child playing the piano, sounding gentle and flowing, like a summer breeze brushing against the face, calming and pleasant.
Zhong Weishi was waiting for him to ask again. Maybe this time, he would give a more detailed answer.
But that moment never came.
Gu Lizhou quietly watched the side of his face, noticing how his gaze always wandered. The red glow of the sunset gradually stained the boy’s cheeks.
The older man suddenly came to a realization and smiled. His focused gaze was like that of someone admiring a beautifully artistic oil painting.
The figure in the painting, flustered by his stare, stood up and said, “I’m a bit hungry. I’ll go cook.”
“What are we having tonight?” Gu Lizhou asked with a smile.
Zhong Weishi paused in his steps. “Braised pork ribs with rice. Want some?”
“I do. I want to taste anything you make.”
Zhong Weishi thought the way he spoke so gently was honestly too much and completely unfair.
“Then let’s go with that. I’ll also make some lettuce with oyster sauce and tomato egg soup.”
Gu Lizhou got up to follow. “Let me help.”
“No, no.” Zhong Weishi nervously pushed him back onto the sofa. “You just watch TV. I’ll be done soon.”
Thinking back to the last time Gu Lizhou stayed in the kitchen while he made tangyuan, he ended up overcooking them until they stuck to the pot. The time before that, when he made dumplings, Gu Lizhou stared at him so much he forgot to add salt. And the time before that, he turned cola chicken wings into charred barbecue wings.
Basically, this man was a disaster who used his beauty to bewitch people.
A modern-day Su Daji.1She’s a famous (or infamous) figure from Chinese mythology and history, often portrayed as a beautiful but wicked femme fatale. She was the concubine of King Zhou of Shang (商纣王), the last king of the Shang dynasty.
Su Daji, still relentless, squeezed into the kitchen. “Teach me, ah. I’ll make it for you next time.” His voice even had a hint of aggrieved cuteness.
The modern-day King Zhou crumbled helplessly before such beauty. “Fine, just stand back. Don’t mess up my flow.”
Gu Lizhou nodded and obediently leaned against the fridge.
The kitchen wasn’t well-equipped.Zhong Weishi usually only used one pot and one rice cooker to make meals. As long as Gu Lizhou wasn’t around chatting and distracting him, his food usually turned out pretty good.
He first washed the rice and soaked it in water, then cleaned the pork ribs, brought them to a boil, drained them, and set them aside. In the pot, he heated oil, added green onions, ginger, and garlic to bring out the aroma, then stir-fried the ribs until both sides turned golden. After that, he added soy sauce and tossed them to coat evenly with color.
By now, Gu Lizhou could already smell the rich fragrance of the sauce.
Zhong Weishi poured a big bowl of hot water into the ribs and reminded him, “Remember, always use hot water. If you use cold water, the meat gets tough.”
Gu Lizhou leaned over and took a sniff. “It smells amazing, ah. Can I try a piece?”
“Not yet,” Zhong Weishi said as he poured the rice into the rice cooker, then ladled the ribs and their broth over the top. “See this water level? It should just barely cover the rice, about the height of a fingernail.” As he spoke, he added water to the pot.
The rice would still take a while to cook. Zhong Weishi sliced the tomatoes and set them on a plate, then beat the eggs and set them aside.
His knife skills were fast and precise, even cracking and beating eggs took only one hand. The whole flashy routine left Gu Lizhou dazzled.
By comparison, he really did feel like a useless person.
Since tomato soup cools easily, Zhong Weishi planned to make it after the pork rib rice was done. It will only take a few minutes to boil anyway.
With all the ingredients ready, he washed his hands and said, “Come run lines with me again.”
Gu Lizhou nodded and said yes.
Zhong Weishi took the bookmark off the script and flipped through a few pages, skipping over several lines between the secondary CP.
The upcoming scene was about the male lead, Xiao Chi, going over to Luo Yin’s house to mooch a meal. Neither of them could cook to save their lives, so they ended up turning the kitchen into a disaster zone. Xiao Chi’s hands were covered in black grime from the bottom of the pot, and he reached out, trying to smear it on Luo Yin’s face.
Gu Lizhou couldn’t help clicking his tongue. “With behavior like this, he still thinks he can get a girlfriend ah?”
Zhong Weishi said, “And you think someone who shoves people’s heads into the sink can get a girlfriend?”
Gu Lizhou shrugged. “That’s why I’ve never planned on getting a girlfriend, ah.”
Zhong Weishi let out an “Oh.”
The two of them locked eyes. Neither said anything.
The air turned silent, and a bit tense.
In the script, Xiao Chi and Luo Yin were messing around in the living room. Xiao Chi tripped on a table leg, lost his balance, and fell forward, pinning Luo Yin down onto the sofa.
The two stared into each other’s eyes with deep emotion for a few seconds. Then Xiao Chi closed his eyes, turned his head slightly, and kissed Luo Yin.
Gu Lizhou recalled the sensation of that soft, damp kiss, the corners of his lips curving up in anticipation. Meanwhile, Zhong Weishi, worried that he might feel awkward about it, decided to give it up.
“Let’s skip the kiss scene.”
“Why ah?” Gu Lizhou’s eyes widened, then he realized his reaction was too strong. After a half-second pause, he covered it up with forced confidence. “How will you know if you can knock Luo Yin over if you don’t actually pounce?”
Zhong Weishi burst into laughter. “She’s a girl how could I not push her over?”
Gu Lizhou wouldn’t give up. “But what if?”
“There’s no such thing as what if.”
Zhong Weishi raised his hand and gave Gu Lizhou a shove on the shoulder. Caught off guard, Gu Lizhou lost his balance without much resistance.
On reflex, he reached out to grab Zhong Weishi’s arm, and the two of them ended up tumbling onto the sofa together.
Unlike the scene in the script, Zhong Weishi’s head landed directly on Gu Lizhou’s chest with a heavy thud. He even heard a pained grunt from someone’s throat, as if the sound had been forced straight out of him.
It sounded painful.
He quickly pushed himself up and rubbed the spot where he’d landed, asking anxiously, “Are you okay? Huh? A sternum shouldn’t break that easily, right?”
Gu Lizhou shook his head, and the moment he opened his eyes, he caught sight of a pale stretch of neck.
His eyes immediately lit up.
Zhong Weishi was young, full of energy, and always active. Even in the middle of winter, he dressed casually at home. Today he wore a deep blue velvet pajama set that was clearly cheap based on the stitching, but the fabric looked soft and comfortable.
The top had a single row of buttons, but he didn’t bother buttoning it properly. His kneeling posture caused the collar to fall wide open, revealing both his delicate and prominent collarbones, like a pair of light little wings.
He could even see the two pink dots on his chest.
Zhong Weishi followed his gaze and looked down.
Everything was on full display.
“fvck,” he looked up and gave Gu Lizhou a foolish grin. “What the fvck are you staring at? I’m not shy, ah!”
Gu Lizhou’s eyes didn’t leave his lips for a second. “You’re the one lying on top of me.”
The way he said it..
Was downright suggestive.
Just as Zhong Weishi was about to sit up, the man grabbed one of his shoulders and pulled him down.
Their distance closed in an instant.
Close enough to see every single eyelash on the other’s face.
Gu Lizhou was right-handed, and even with just one hand, he held him down firmly, just like that time when he’d shoved him into the sink.
Of course, Zhong Weishi wasn’t the kind to just take it. If he really wanted to resist, he could’ve easily found a way to break free. But at this moment, his whole body felt like it had been soaked in seawater, soft, limp, completely unwilling to move.
His eyelashes trembled gently under Gu Lizhou’s gaze.
If he could die like this, he honestly wouldn’t mind.
The thought stunned him.
A modern-day Su Daji indeed lived up to the name.
“There’s a ‘gaze filled with deep emotion’ in the script too,” Gu Lizhou said, summoning all the feelings in his body, his eyes sincere and intense.
Zhong Weishi looked down at him, and it felt like staring straight into the scorching sun of midsummer that was overwhelmingly hot.
He couldn’t hold it for even two seconds.
Gu Lizhou’s right hand moved from Zhong Weishi’s shoulder, slowly reaching around his back. Fingers interlocked, he pulled him tightly into his arms.
“Why won’t you look at me?” His voice was soft and teasing, tugging on every single one of Zhong Weishi’s nerves, his gaze filled with endless affection. “Hmm?”
Zhong Weishi lay motionless on top of him, like someone frozen by a pressure point strike.
The script clearly said: “I just realized your eyes aren’t completely black, hey…”
But the large hands resting on his back were anything but obedient, tracing slow, suggestive patterns along his spine. The intimate gesture made his whole body burn.
There was nothing this flirtatious in the script…
Even though the kitchen windows and doors were all open and the air was flowing freely, his brain felt like it was starved of oxygen. His usual gift of quick, witty talk had vanished completely.
His ability to form coherent language had dropped to zero.
All the feelings he had buried inside were now screaming to break free. His face grew redder by the second.
“Do you like me?” Gu Lizhou asked in a whisper.
It took Zhong Weishi half a second to realize that that line wasn’t in the script at all. His mind exploded with a loud boom.
He was stunned speechless.
Upstairs, the child, not knowing whether he was well-rested or just finished with dinner, began playing piano again. This time, it was “Kikujiro’s Summer”, lighthearted and mischievous in tone.
Even more mischievous was his heart, which pounded wildly in his chest.
He had never been so sure of one thing as he was at this moment, and that was that Gu Lizhou had feelings about him.
He had a feeling that this man was about to say something completely outrageous next. His palms began to sweat, and his fingertips trembled.
Gu Lizhou looked calm on the surface, but inside, waves were crashing. This was worlds apart from the confession scene he had once imagined, completely unplanned, and he wasn’t mentally prepared at all. But with the atmosphere already like this, there was no way he was backing down today.
His fingertips turned pale from how tightly he was gripping. He asked tentatively, “If you like me, kiss me. If you don’t, then…”
Before he could finish the sentence, his lips were sealed.
The air froze. The two of them instantly turned into living fossils.
Gu Lizhou’s eyes were half-open. The feeling of the kiss was even softer than he imagined, a little damp, like dew on a rose petal.
He completely forgot how to breathe. His chest burned, and a wave of suffocating heat surged through him.
Zhong Weishi clutched his shoulders tightly, as if pouring all his emotions into that grip.
Everything he had been suppressing exploded in that moment. As Gu Lizhou closed his eyes and tightened his arms around him, he realized the little friend was trembling.
His lips were shaking. His breath was uneven. Even the hands gripping his shoulders were shaking…
Zhong Weishi kissed him so hard his eyes turned red, as if he were about to cry. He pulled back, dazed and overwhelmed, then, this time, he bravely met Gu Lizhou’s gaze.
His eyes were as bright as stars on a summer night.
His heart was racing at an impossible speed, and he felt like he could faint at any moment from tachycardia.
The cheerful piano music upstairs did nothing to calm the storm inside. He finally managed to suppress his swirling emotions and began to form words.
He wanted to say: You figured it out a long time ago, didn’t you? Why didn’t you say anything? Were you holding it in for fun?
Be honest, don’t you like me a whole damn lot too? When did you start? You shameless jerk, you hid it so damn well.
But honestly, I already saw it coming a long time ago…
Hmph.
In the end, though, his oxygen-starved brain completely shut down, and all those questions swirling in his head boiled down to one explosive line of profanity: “I fvcking like you so damn much! Let me kiss you again.”
Who cared who fell first?
The next second, his ass was pinched so hard he wailed in pain.
“Take out the swearing and say it again,” Gu Lizhou said, looking straight at him.
At this point, Zhong Weishi had no pride left to speak of. He lowered his head and confessed again, meek and obedient.
“Can I kiss you one more time?”
Gu Lizhou blinked and smiled. His personality leaned toward the cold and quiet, his tenderness usually hidden in the depths of night, never openly shown. But right now, it could no longer be contained.
There was joy in his expression, a glimmer of anticipation, and even a trace of nervousness.
He reached up, cupped the back of Zhong Weishi’s head, and pressed him down, proving with action that he could kiss him as many times as he wanted.
Their lips met again, and the humid heat of their breaths tangled once more.
Zhong Weishi’s hands slid between the sofa cushions and Gu Lizhou’s back, wrapping around him tightly.
It was the embrace he had longed for. A warmth like sunlight in the dead of winter, surrounding him completely.
In the background, cheerful piano music played as they felt each other’s heated breaths, racing heartbeats, and the steadily rising temperature between them.
It was their first real kiss, and neither of them had any experience. Zhong Weishi’s lips tingled from the pressure, and Gu Lizhou had already lost all sense of reason.
Oxygen was clearly running low, but neither of them wanted to let go.
Leave a Reply