A sharp slap resounded as Cheng Yue’s arm shot past Ji Ming’an’s face, his palm slamming against the wardrobe.
In the next instant, Cheng Yue cupped Ji Ming’an’s chin with his other hand and swiftly pressed forward.
The cigarette and lighter clattered to the floor. Ji Ming’an reflexively raised his hands to Cheng Yue’s shoulders, but his fingers trembled slightly, ultimately lacking the strength to push him away.
Cheng Yue’s lips pressed forcefully against Ji Ming’an’s. With a firm grip, he compelled Ji Ming’an to part his lips, deepening their connection.
Ji Ming’an’s eyes widened, though his vision blurred from their proximity.
However, the kiss was urgent and uncoordinated.
Their breathing quickly grew erratic as their chests collided, the air seemingly squeezed from their lungs.
Soon enough, Cheng Yue had to pull back slightly. Ji Ming’an’s eyes had long since narrowed, a sheen of moisture gathering within them.
They gazed deeply at each other, both struggling to draw in much-needed oxygen.
As their breathing steadied, clarity gradually returned to Cheng Yue’s eyes.
His gaze met Ji Ming’an’s hazy stare, then drifted to his parted, reddened lips. The anger on Cheng Yue’s face slowly faded, replaced by a look of tender remorse.
He released Ji Ming’an’s chin, gently caressing his flushed cheeks.
Finally, Cheng Yue squeezed his eyes shut. The muscles in his arm tensed, as if he were about to push himself away.
But in that moment, Cheng Yue felt a warm pressure on the back of his hand.
Surprised, he opened his eyes to find Ji Ming’an’s hand covering his own.
Ji Ming’an’s lips quivered as he spoke, his voice hoarse and choked with emotion.
“You bastard… Ah Yue…”
With those words, a tear slid from the corner of his eye.
Yet despite the seeming insult, Ji Ming’an’s trembling fingers clung tightly to Cheng Yue’s hand.
Cheng Yue felt a painful ache in his chest, as if something inside him had crumbled.
In that instant, his mind went blank, save for one crystal-clear realization—
His lover was calling out to him.
The tension in his arm dissolved instantly as Cheng Yue leaned in once more, capturing Ji Ming’an’s lips.
This kiss was tender and lingering, reminiscent of their passionate early days together.
Ji Ming’an wrapped his arms around Cheng Yue’s neck as Cheng Yue encircled Ji Ming’an’s waist.
Muscle memory awakened, banishing the earlier awkwardness. Their lips parted briefly only to reunite with renewed fervor.
In the small changing room, the temperature rapidly climbed.
Eventually, the need for air forced them apart, both chests heaving.
Cheng Yue tugged at Ji Ming’an’s wrinkled shirt, pulling it free from his waistband.
Ji Ming’an unfastened two of Cheng Yue’s buttons, sliding his hand beneath the open collar.
♦
With Director He Zhanpeng’s call of “Cut!”, Li Qianxing and Jiang Lin froze simultaneously.
Jiang Lin stepped back, catching his breath as he rebuttoned his shirt.
Xiao Zhu, blushing furiously, hurried over with tissues for Li Qianxing and draped a jacket over his shoulders.
Li Qianxing accepted the tissues, dabbing at the tears in the corners of his eyes before adjusting his rumpled shirt.
Once he’d composed himself, he instinctively turned to meet Jiang Lin’s gaze. Perhaps influenced by their characters, they shared a faint smile.
Then they approached Director He behind the monitors.
He Zhanpeng, having reviewed the playback, beamed with delight. “Excellent, excellent! We’ve got it! I was prepared to keep at it until afternoon, but you nailed it in one take. As expected of two international award-winning actors!”
Jiang Lin offered a polite compliment. “Your direction was so detailed, it made the scene easy to perform.”
He Zhanpeng, still elated, engaged in some mutual flattery. “It’s also thanks to your intuition. You understood immediately.”
Checking the time, he continued, “Let’s wrap up here. Go have lunch and rest up. This afternoon we’ll shoot the bed scene. It’s actually easier than this one since there’s less complex emotions to convey. Just relax and don’t feel pressured.”
Li Qianxing and Jiang Lin nodded, then headed towards their trailers.
During filming, Li Qianxing had been focused on the scene, but now he became acutely aware of the many gazes fixed upon him—even more intently than before. Without trying, he could spot blushing crew members stealing glances their way.
Even Xiao Zhu and Xiao Ding, trailing behind them, seemed flustered, their eyes darting about as if torn between staring and averting their gaze.
Once inside the trailer, Li Qianxing finally spoke up, “The scene’s over. Shouldn’t your curiosity be satisfied by now? Why are you still acting like this?”
Xiao Zhu blinked rapidly, pressing a hand to her chest. “Watching you two kiss was so intense, my heart’s still racing!”
Li Qianxing: “…That dramatic? It’s not like kiss scenes are rare in movies and TV.”
“But it’s my first time seeing one filmed live!” Xiao Zhu leaned in, lowering her voice. “Li-ge, how did it feel just now? Was it nice? Did your heart race too?”
Li Qianxing answered without hesitation, “I felt nothing.”
Xiao Zhu was startled. “Huh?”
Li Qianxing: “It’s acting. I have to consider many details. I need to control my expressions, breathing, movements, even the timing of my tears. The dialogue requires emotion yet clear delivery. Just focusing on all that is mentally taxing enough. There’s no room to contemplate how the kiss feels.”
Xiao Zhu’s face went blank for a second before disappointment filled her eyes. “Hearing you say that, how am I supposed to enjoy sweet kissing scenes in dramas anymore?”
Li Qianxing: “You asked.”
Xiao Zhu sighed deeply, shoulders slumping as she turned to the fridge to prepare lunch.
Li Qianxing walked to the back of the trailer, drawing the curtain to change clothes.
However, perhaps triggered by Xiao Zhu’s question, he unconsciously brushed his fingers across his lips.
If he were to admit feeling something, it would’ve been last night…
Without last night’s experience as an anchor, today’s scene certainly wouldn’t have gone so smoothly.
At this thought, Li Qianxing’s lips curled into a slight smile.
In the other trailer, a similar conversation unfolded.
Xiao Ding entered with boxed lunches as Jiang Lin finished changing. They sat down to eat together.
After a few bites, Jiang Lin noticed Xiao Ding barely touching his food. “Are you counting rice grains? The food not to your liking today?”
Xiao Ding smiled sheepishly. “I was thinking about your scene earlier… If I hadn’t been your assistant all this time, I’d never believe you’ve never dated anyone.”
Jiang Lin raised an eyebrow.
Xiao Ding looked at him, unable to resist asking, “You really don’t have feelings for Teacher Li? That kiss was so intense, especially towards the end. It was like you were really captivated by him.”
Jiang Lin chuckled. “Did it look that intense?”
Xiao Ding nodded emphatically.
Jiang Lin: “But I strictly adhered to the contract—no tongue during filming.”
Xiao Ding froze, eyes widening in disbelief. “What? It was all acting?”
Jiang Lin: “Otherwise, how can it be called acting?”
He patted his dejected assistant’s shoulder. “Focus on eating. The food will get cold soon.”
However, the topic made Jiang Lin privately reflect.
He had indeed lost control once, but not earlier—it was last night…
The senior’s skills were truly well-deserved.
*
That afternoon, Li Qianxing arrived on set wearing a long robe, finding Jiang Lin similarly dressed.
The set had been cleared. After the makeup artists finished with both actors, they left along with Xiao Zhu and Xiao Ding.
Director He showed them the storyboards while explaining.
The wide-angle camera would shoot from the side of the sofa, mostly obscuring them, revealing only half of Jiang Lin’s back and Li Qianxing’s shoulders. A medium shot in front would capture their upper bodies. Close-ups would be handled by handheld cameras.
He Zhanpeng handed Jiang Lin a small cushion. “Place this between you two. It’s safe and absorbs movement.”
Jiang Lin couldn’t help glancing at Li Qianxing.
Li Qianxing remained calm, even reaching out to test the cushion’s firmness.
He Zhanpeng urged, “Alright, robes off. I’ll guide you into position.”
Jiang Lin steeled himself, removed his robe, and carefully stepped over props to sit on the loveseat. He positioned the small cushion.
Li Qianxing quickly knelt on the sofa, moving close. Following the storyboard, they embraced in a general pose.
He Zhanpeng watched the monitor, guiding them to adjust details until satisfied with the composition.
The set was quiet. Experienced cameramen wore soft-soled shoes, minimizing their presence as they moved almost silently with their equipment.
He Zhanpeng approached the actors without using a megaphone. “Cameras are rolling. Take your time to get into character and improvise. I’ll call cut when we have enough footage. Don’t be nervous. We’ve scheduled all afternoon for this scene, so take it slow.”
With an encouraging gesture, he returned to the monitors.
Jiang Lin, hands on Li Qianxing’s back, felt his cool skin and softly asked, “Are you cold?”
Li Qianxing, eyes closed: “It’s fine. The lights are warm.”
After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes, now filled with a dreamy look.
It was Ji Ming’an gazing at Cheng Yue.
Jiang Lin focused, meeting those eyes as his face gradually took on an enthralled expression.
His hands slowly moved down Li Qianxing’s back, caressing the protruding shoulder blades before spreading his fingers to almost encircle that slender waist, pulling downward.
The cushion between them performed admirably—they could even feel its resilience.
Li Qianxing’s eyes instantly welled up. His fingers tightened on Jiang Lin’s shoulders, gripping hard enough to whiten his knuckles.
Their chests heaved as rapid breaths stirred each other’s hair.
Jiang Lin tilted his head up, planting light kisses on Li Qianxing’s face.
Li Qianxing gazed down at him, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
Suddenly, Li Qianxing raised one hand, gripping Jiang Lin’s hair at the nape and yanking downward, forcing his head back. He then lowered his head, biting Jiang Lin’s lip fiercely.
Jiang Lin’s eyes widened in shock, his hands unconsciously tightening on Li Qianxing’s waist.
The small cushion then demonstrated its excellent shock-absorbing capabilities.
Li Qianxing threw his head back, his pale purple hair fluttering in the air.
Jiang Lin kissed his Adam’s apple, then trailed his tongue along his jawline.
When Director He called cut, both actors paused, momentarily dazed.
Jiang Lin released his grip, his voice slightly hoarse, “Are you alright?”
Li Qianxing shifted back to the other end of the loveseat, wiping tears from the corners of his eyes. “I’m fine.”
Jiang Lin ran a hand through his hair, glancing at Director He who was busy reviewing the footage. He stood to retrieve their robes, handing Li Qianxing’s to him.
As he looked down, he noticed clear finger marks on Li Qianxing’s waist.
Jiang Lin unconsciously rubbed his fingers—had he really gripped that hard?
Li Qianxing put on his robe, having composed himself. Noticing Jiang Lin standing motionless with his robe, he looked at him quizzically, “Hmm?”
Jiang Lin snapped back to reality, covering with a smile. “Teacher Li’s dedication to art is admirable.”
Li Qianxing narrowed his eyes slightly, gaze falling on Jiang Lin’s injured lip, “Teacher Jiang’s sacrifice isn’t small either. Sorry, I couldn’t control my strength. I broke the skin.”
Jiang Lin was momentarily stunned before reacting, unconsciously licking the wound. He chuckled, shaking his head. “My fault. Li-ge, please be magnanimous and forgive me this once.”
Director He, approaching midway through their conversation, asked curiously, “Forgive what?”
Jiang Lin, putting on his robe, deflected, “You misheard. I was praising Li-ge for that bite just now. Great performance.”
He Zhanpeng immediately beamed. “Indeed! It perfectly captured Ji Ming’an’s conflicted emotions—happy yet hurt—before that misunderstanding is cleared up. Xiao Li is truly meticulous.”
Li Qianxing: “So this take is good?”
He Zhanpeng: “Absolutely! Want to see the playback? It’s beautiful. We got some very emotive close-ups too.”
Jiang Lin was about to decline—the performance was fine, but watching such intimate footage on set felt awkward. However, Li Qianxing had already nodded, following He Zhanpeng to the monitors. After a moment’s hesitation, Jiang Lin followed.
Yet, upon seeing the playback, Jiang Lin relaxed—it was indeed just acting. The figures on screen were characters, not themselves.
Jiang Lin couldn’t help glancing at Li Qianxing, noting his serious expression. He inwardly marveled at how working with this senior always rekindled his pure joy of acting.
Having successfully filmed what they’d anticipated to be a challenging scene, along with a post-coital dialogue sequence, He Zhanpeng called it a day, wrapping up early.
Li Qianxing returned to his room and took a shower.
As he came out, toweling his hair, he heard a knock and went to answer.
Jiang Lin stood outside. He raised his hand and handed a small box to Li Qianxing. “I asked the set medic. She recommended this ointment. Apply it to the bruises; they should fade in a day or two.”
Li Qianxing accepted it but said, “It’s fine to leave them. They’ll heal eventually.”
Jiang Lin smiled. “I caused them with my grip, so I should do something about it.”
With that, he waved goodbye and returned to his room next door.
Li Qianxing closed the door and sat on the couch. He opened the ointment, sniffed it, then tested a bit on his finger. Finding it acceptable, he lifted his shirt hem.
After a while, the finger marks on his waist seemed to have darkened slightly.
Though he’d barely noticed during filming, seeing them now instantly revived the memory of being gripped by the waist.
He could vividly recall Jiang Lin’s forceful fingers and his warm palms.
Li Qianxing took a deep breath, shaking off those stray thoughts. Following the instructions, he applied the ointment to the bruises, gently massaging it in.
His waist quickly warmed up.
Just like the heat from those hands earlier.
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