Li Qianxing’s height was undeniable; even though he was slender, he still weighed around 125 pounds. Despite Jiang Lin’s strength and stamina, carrying someone back and forth for half an hour while staying in character was no small feat.
Back at the hotel that evening, Jiang Lin had to ask Xiao Ding to massage his arms.
Lying on the bed, he groaned, “Why did I have to blurt out that princess carry line? We could’ve at least tried a fireman’s carry as per the script…”
Xiao Ding chuckled while massaging him, then reassured, “Still, you and Teacher Li looked great together. If they use that shot for the poster, I bet it’ll attract a ton of shippers to buy tickets.”
Jiang Lin was quite calm about this. “After sacrificing so much, if the results aren’t good, I’ll have to take it up with Director He first.”
Xiao Ding laughed quietly, then asked curiously, “When you were taking photos, the way you looked at each other was electric. Teacher Li’s makeup was stunning. Lin-ge, did you feel even a tiny bit of attraction?”
Jiang Lin glanced over, “Oh, I felt it alright. To catch that perfect moment for the photographer, I had to carry him over and over. My heart rate must’ve hit 140!”
Xiao Ding finally burst out laughing, “Haha! Lin-ge, if that got out, it’d kill your ship instantly.”
Jiang Lin: “That’s why people should stick to shipping characters, not real people. RPS1RPS stands for “Real Person Slash,” a type of fan fiction that imagines romantic or sexual relationships between real celebrities or public figures, typically of the same gender. It’s part of the broader category of RPF (Real Person Fiction). RPS is especially popular in Chinese fan communities, where it often focuses on actors, singers, athletes, and other celebrities. has no future.”
Xiao Ding: “But Teacher Li is handsome and talented. I can see why his co-stars always fall for him after romantic scenes.”
Jiang Lin: “They fall for the characters he portrays, not him personally.”
Xiao Ding thought about it and replied, “That’s true…”
After the massage, Xiao Ding fetched a glass of water.
As Jiang Lin took it, he reminded him, “I promised him a glass of milk daily. Stay on top of that; we can’t give them reasons to criticize us.”
Xiao Ding: “Don’t worry, I’ve set a daily reminder. But what if Teacher Li refuses?”
Jiang Lin: “Keep it up for a few days. If he really doesn’t want it, he’ll tell me himself.”
Xiao Ding nodded, then remembered something, “Oh, Lin-ge, you haven’t followed Teacher Li on Weibo yet. Better do it soon. Don’t give people with ulterior motives a chance to accuse you of disrespecting your senior when the filming announcement comes out tomorrow.”
Jiang Lin agreed, grabbed his phone, and searched for Li Qianxing on Weibo.
Li Qianxing’s Weibo seemed like a reposting bot. Scrolling down, it was all reposts of news about him. Jiang Lin was 90% sure Li Qianxing wasn’t managing it himself.
However, following was just a formality. Jiang Lin hit follow and exited. Thinking to greet Li Qianxing, he opened WeChat and entered the cast group chat.
Surprisingly, after scrolling through the member list two or three times, Jiang Lin couldn’t find Li Qianxing. There was only an account labeled “Li Qianxing’s Assistant Xiao Zhu”.
Jiang Lin found this both amusing and exasperating, finally grasping how much Li Qianxing disliked socializing. Recalling Li Qianxing’s behavior at the bar earlier that year, he was amazed at his acting skills.
Unable to contact Li Qianxing directly, Jiang Lin didn’t bother with roundabout methods and logged off.
Soon after, he received a Weibo notification. Checking it, he saw Li Qianxing had followed him back.
Jiang Lin smiled and did not care. He remembered the two supporting actors; he’d previously worked with one and they’d courteously followed each other. The other was a newcomer, and Jiang Lin wasn’t sure if they had a professional Weibo. He added them on WeChat and inquired.
The newcomer responded promptly with their ID, mentioning they’d already followed their seniors but hadn’t dared ask for a follow back. Jiang Lin exchanged pleasantries and followed their Weibo.
◇◆
The morning of the opening ceremony was free. Li Qianxing slept in, only to be cornered in bed by Qi Jingnian at ten o’clock.
Yawning, Li Qianxing got up. “Weren’t you supposed to arrive at 10:30?”
Amused by his brother’s rare laziness, Qi Jingnian said, “Traffic was smooth, so I arrived early. Sleeping in so late, have you been tired lately?”
Li Qianxing: “No. I watched a TV show last night and slept late.”
Qi Jingnian examined his face closely, noting no dark circles, and didn’t press further.
After washing up, Li Qianxing found not only his usual nutritional paste and egg but a full breakfast spread. He frowned, “Why is there so much? Haven’t you eaten yet?”
Xiao Zhu: “I’ve eaten. This is for Mr. Qi. He left early, so he must be hungry by now.”
Qi Jingnian praised, “Xiao Zhu is so thoughtful. Qianxing, you’re so clueless about social niceties. What will you do if you’re ever left without help?”
Xiao Zhu laughed, “No worries, Li-ge just needs to find someone caring who’ll think of everything for him.”
Li Qianxing was unconcerned. “Assistants and housekeepers are enough. Xiao Zhu can stay with me until she has children.”
Xiao Zhu: “…You’re really getting revenge now. I don’t even have a boyfriend yet, and you’re already planning my kids.”
Just then, the doorbell rang, and Xiao Zhu hurried to answer it.
Shortly after, she returned with a large paper cup, placing it before Li Qianxing with a complex expression. “Warm milk from Jiang Lin’s assistant.”
Li Qianxing: “…”
Qi Jingnian asked curiously, “Jiang Lin? Isn’t he staying next door? Was this just convenient?”
Xiao Zhu: “Probably intentional.”
She recounted yesterday’s events in the lounge, then asked Li Qianxing, “But how did he know about your digestive issues? Did you tell him?”
Li Qianxing: “During the first read-through, he wanted to treat me to dinner. I didn’t feel like socializing, so I used that as an excuse to decline.”
Xiao Zhu and Qi Jingnian exchanged glances, both smiling helplessly.
Qi Jingnian sighed, “This Jiang Lin is quite thoughtful.”
His comment reminded Li Qianxing of his earlier suspicion. He asked, “Did you know that for his Best Actor film, they changed directors before shooting began?”
Qi Jingnian pondered briefly, then nodded. “I’d heard rumors, but I don’t know the specifics.”
Li Qianxing asked Xiao Zhu to repeat the gossip she’d heard, then asked, “Do you think it’s a coincidence?”
Qi Jingnian gazed at Li Qianxing thoughtfully.
Li Qianxing: “?”
Qi Jingnian: “It’s rare for you to care about others, especially outside of acting.”
Li Qianxing: “…I’m just curious. If it’s a coincidence, his luck is indeed impressive.”
Qi Jingnian smiled mysteriously. “Your intuition is probably correct; it’s likely not a coincidence. I have some connections with Director Liang. I heard his mother is particularly fond of a screenwriter’s work and watches every show. That screenwriter is called Tang Yu.”
Xiao Zhu chimed in, “Tang Yu? I love her scripts too!”
Li Qianxing: “Is this screenwriter connected to Jiang Lin?”
Qi Jingnian: “Tang Yu is the wife of Jiang Lin’s manager, Yan Yi.”
Xiao Zhu whispered, “Ah— Then…”
Qi Jingnian: “But even with this connection, if the script wasn’t good and Jiang Lin’s acting wasn’t even better, I believe Director Liang wouldn’t have been swayed. Ultimately, one’s own merit is crucial.”
He then changed the subject. “It seems Jiang Lin is quite cunning and bold, no wonder he seizes opportunities so well. However, if you dislike associating with such people, don’t feel obligated. Just keep things professional on set. Dad and I work hard so our family can live freely.”
Li Qianxing’s gaze lingered on the warm milk before responding, “It’s fine. So far, he hasn’t made me uncomfortable.”
*
At noon, Li Qianxing and Qi Jingnian attended the opening ceremony together.
Filming was scheduled for the afternoon, so media interviews were arranged before the ceremony. He Zhanpeng led the two lead actors to attend.
As per He Zhanpeng’s custom, filming would be largely closed, with no further promotion until the film was complete, not even an official Weibo account. Thus, the media tried hard to uncover more information, but He Zhanpeng only revealed the film’s theme, nothing more.
The media then turned to the two award-winning actors, but with little success.
Li Qianxing was typically reticent, deflecting all probing questions with unchanging responses, never saying more than necessary. His star power and Xingyi’s backing made the media hesitant to truly pressure him.
Jiang Lin was the opposite – talkative and responsive, creating a lively atmosphere that had the media laughing. However, seasoned reporters, though smiling, inwardly marveled at his skill – he’d said so much, yet revealed nothing substantial!
At the auspicious time, the crew, led by He Zhanpeng, offered incense in turn. Then, He Zhanpeng, Li Qianxing, Jiang Lin, and investor representative Qi Jingnian jointly unveiled the camera draped in red cloth.
Thunderous applause erupted, followed by firecrackers, marking the successful conclusion of the ceremony.
After the firecrackers, a group photo was planned. But He Zhanpeng, bothered by the noise, walked away covering his ears. Qi Jingnian’s phone buzzed, and he moved to a shaded area to check it.
Li Qianxing stood beside Jiang Lin, unsure whether to step aside, when he caught a flash of light in his peripheral vision.
He reflexively looked over to see a small section of firecrackers had detached, sparking and hurtling towards them.
Several screams rang out.
Almost simultaneously, a hand gripped Li Qianxing’s shoulder.
Pulled by the force, Li Qianxing instinctively turned, colliding directly into someone’s embrace.
He saw the person’s other arm swing, as if throwing something.
The detached firecrackers quickly fizzled out, accompanied by what sounded like a heavy object hitting the ground.
Li Qianxing was promptly released. He looked up, meeting Jiang Lin’s eyes.
Jiang Lin smiled, his voice gentle. “It’s over now. Were you frightened?”
Only then did Li Qianxing belatedly realize his heart was racing, easily hitting 140 beats per minute.
He quickly turned back towards the firecrackers, spotting a phone lying on the ground, its screen cracked.
TL Notes
- 1RPS stands for “Real Person Slash,” a type of fan fiction that imagines romantic or sexual relationships between real celebrities or public figures, typically of the same gender. It’s part of the broader category of RPF (Real Person Fiction). RPS is especially popular in Chinese fan communities, where it often focuses on actors, singers, athletes, and other celebrities.
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