LOI Chapter 19 — Quite Interesting

Rong Ke moved in with Yan Zhi, bringing several sets of clothes, bedding, and blankets. He rarely left the apartment except to buy groceries.

Once, while taking out the trash, he encountered a familiar janitor who remarked that he hadn’t seen Rong Ke in a while and thought he had moved out. Rong Ke just smiled without responding.

Yan Zhi worked until the day before New Year’s Eve. He arrived home promptly at 6:30 p.m., complaining as he entered, “I love my work, but I hate going to the office.”

“Nobody likes going to the office,” Rong Ke replied, setting the dishes on the table and removing his apron. “Go wash your hands for dinner.”

As Yan Zhi walked into the kitchen, he asked, “Hasn’t the apron I ordered for you arrived yet?”

Rong Ke was still wearing the plain black apron with a sunflower on the chest that Yan Zhi’s assistant, Luo Fei, had bought along with other kitchen supplies. It was so ordinary that it could not be more ordinary.

“Can I even wear the aprons you bought?” Rong Ke asked.

White lace, white maid dress, white and black polka dots… each one was so flimsy that Rong Ke doubted they could withstand a single oil splatter without burning a hole. How could anyone cook in those?

“Why can’t you wear them?” Yan Zhi asked seriously.

“Have you ever seen anyone cook in lingerie?” Rong Ke retorted.

“Life needs a little spice.”

Rong Ke wanted to ask what kind of “spice” Yan Zhi was trying to add to their relationship, but he remembered female friends from his acting days who would put on full makeup even when staying home. He supposed he could understand Yan Zhi’s “creative ideas” to some extent.

After dinner, Rong Ke cleaned up the kitchen and settled in the living room to watch TV.

The evening news had just finished, and CCTV-1 began airing “Legal Elite,” the legal drama Rong Ke had filmed around the time of Paris Fashion Week last year.

He knew the drama had government backing but hadn’t expected it to air on CCTV-1.

Tonight’s episode featured his debut. As a young man in a white tank top appeared on screen, he quickly nudged Yan Zhi beside him. “Look, it’s me!”

Yan Zhi had been frowning over work emails, frustrated by his subordinates’ incompetence. But when he looked up at the TV and saw Rong Ke, his expression softened. Setting aside his laptop, he asked, “When did you film this?”

“Around September or October last year,” Rong Ke replied. “When we met at Paris Fashion Week.”

Reflecting on that time, Rong Ke marveled at how improbable their current situation seemed. He had thought they belonged to different worlds, yet here they were, half a year later, sitting on the same couch, watching TV together.

Yan Zhi seemed to be reminiscing about their first encounter as well. “What was your first impression of me?” he asked curiously.

“You mean when we first met?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well…” Rong Ke didn’t want to be too direct. Instead of saying “Goddess of Beauty,” he took a roundabout approach: “Aphrodite.”

He expected Yan Zhi to inquire further, allowing him to leave it as a mystery for Yan Zhi to research later. Surprisingly, Yan Zhi merely raised an eyebrow, clearly understanding the reference.

“What a coincidence,” Yan Zhi said with a slight smile. “When I first saw you, you reminded me of Adonis.”

Rong Ke’s knowledge of Greek mythology was admittedly limited, so he asked who that was. Yan Zhi told him to look it up himself.

A quick Baidu search revealed the answer – the handsome youth admired by Aphrodite.

Rong Ke playfully punched Yan Zhi’s shoulder, laughing, “You think that highly of me?”

At this time, the TV showed Rong Ke’s character confronting a project manager about unpaid wages. “Watch this,” he urged Yan Zhi, “I’m about to beat him to death.”

Yan Zhi, unused to seeing Rong Ke so eager to share something, asked curiously, “Did you used to ask Jiang Si to watch your performances too?”

Rong Ke felt a twinge of disappointment at the mention.

“At first, yes,” he admitted. “Later, I stopped. He never supported me taking roles like this.”

On screen, a violent fight broke out. The young man pulled a hammer from his canvas bag, viciously striking the project manager’s head. His eyes reflected ferocity and madness, but mostly a desperate recklessness.

“Why didn’t he support you?” Yan Zhi asked, confused. “You’re performing brilliantly.”

“He thought it was too lowbrow,” Rong Ke said, his mouth twisting slightly.

Up to this point, Rong Ke had been satisfied with his performance. But thinking of the scenes that followed, he sighed softly. “I filmed this scene the day he and Liu Qing went public. My performance declined after that.”

“Does it still bother you?” Yan Zhi asked.

“Am I crazy?” Rong Ke retorted. “I couldn’t care less about him and his lover now.”

Yan Zhi chuckled, his tone lightening. “Then why were you with him before?”

Rong Ke didn’t answer immediately. He leaned back against the sofa, reflecting, “He was very genuine back then. We were both newcomers, without even chairs to rest on set. He ran around to find me a chair and even bought me milk tea.”

Yan Zhi paused before asking, “That’s all it took to win you over?”

“He also argued with Zhuang Kang when the company wouldn’t give me resources. He did a lot for me,” Rong Ke explained. “Remember I told you I was alone at home?”

“Yes,” Yan Zhi nodded.

“My parents left to work when I was very young. They sent money until I turned eighteen. After I got into university, they vanished. I still don’t know where they are. My grandmother, who raised me, passed away too. I spent New Year’s alone in my dorm those college years, so…”

“If someone is kind to me, I’ll return that kindness tenfold.”

Yan Zhi suddenly understood why Rong Ke cherished his fans so much.

“What happened next?” he prompted.

“Then he became famous, a top star, and he changed,” Rong Ke continued. “He wasn’t as genuine anymore. He started sucking up to directors and producers. Every move he made in public was calculated for his image.”

Yan Zhi raised an eyebrow. “Then why did you stay with him for so long?”

“It wasn’t a fundamental conflict, not enough to break up over,” Rong Ke replied. He turned to Yan Zhi and asked, “Have you never been emotionally invested? That’s just how relationships are. As long as there are no major conflicts or external forces, two people can go far together.”

“I see,” Yan Zhi said. “Fortunately, there were external forces.”

Hearing this sardonic comment, Rong Ke didn’t take offense. “Indeed. Otherwise, given my personality, I would have found it very difficult to initiate a breakup.”

Their “girl talk” concluded just as two episodes of the drama finished.

Yan Zhi returned to dealing with his backlog of emails, while Rong Ke habitually opened Weibo. As soon as he logged in, he noticed a trending topic related to him on the discovery page.

#Rong Ke Pulled from a Construction Site#

A TV drama blogger had posted Rong Ke’s scenes from “Legal Elite” and commented on his acting: “A guy pulled straight from a construction site by the production team.”

There were already thousands of comments, most expressing surprise at recognizing him.

[What? This is Rong Ke?]
[Is this the merman on MQ’s New Year cover? Wow, the contrast is huge!]
[Didn’t he also play in “Chasing Ice”? A drug-addicted henchman, I remember being impressed]
[Damn, I just looked him up. He’s played so many roles! I thought he came out of nowhere]
[To be fair, his acting is really good. When he killed that guy, my mom said she felt sorry for him]
[Someone on Guatian dug up that he was admitted to the Film Academy with the top score in his major]
[Wow, what a hidden gem. I’m a fan now]
[Why has he played so many minor roles? Wasn’t he quite popular in “Inferno Case” back then?]
[Saw on Guatian that he seems to have been blacklisted]
[Where can I find this gossip?]
[+1 for the gossip]

The rumors on Guatian were vague, only mentioning that Rong Ke had offended some big shot and was blacklisted for three years.

The online sentiment quickly shifted to sympathy for Rong Ke, and his Weibo profile was suddenly flooded with new career-focused fans.

He posted a promotional message for “Legal Elite” and wished everyone a Happy New Year. The next moment, Yan Zhi’s phone suddenly chimed.

“Did you just post on Weibo?” Yan Zhi asked, picking up his phone.

“Yes,” Rong Ke suddenly understood why Yan Zhi always responded to him so quickly. “Did you set me as a special focus?”

“You’re my artist now,” Yan Zhi said. “Of course, I need to keep a special eye on you.”

Fair enough.

Rong Ke, believing in reciprocity, promptly set Yan Zhi as a special focus too.

The next day was New Year’s Eve. Yan Zhi had booked a hot spring hotel in a neighboring city, which would have a fireworks show that night. They decided to spend New Year’s Eve there.

However, the highway congestion exceeded their expectations. They left at 9 a.m., but three hours later, they hadn’t even left the city limits.

Rong Ke was irritated by the traffic, but Yan Zhi seemed to be enjoying himself. He played badminton with people in the car behind and shared hotpot with those in front, as if on a pleasant outing¹.

Gradually, Rong Ke was infected by the mood. He got out of the car to watch others play cards with Yan Zhi, but was soon recognized.

“Aren’t you… what’s his name, from that legal drama on CCTV-1?”

It was normal for people not to remember his name, and Rong Ke didn’t intend to introduce himself. But Yan Zhi put an arm around his shoulders and said, “Rong Ke, that’s who you mean.”

“Oh right, that’s the name,” the person said, pulling out their phone. “Can we take a photo together?”

Word spread quickly that there was a celebrity present, and many people came to see. They had to return to their car.

“Looks like we’ll need disguises next time,” Yan Zhi said ruefully, clearly missing the barbecue just set up by the car behind.

Scrolling through Weibo, Rong Ke felt a headache coming on. “CP fans already know we’re spending New Year’s Eve together.”

“Really?” Yan Zhi’s attitude shifted. “Then maybe we don’t need disguises after all.”

They arrived at the hot spring hotel in the evening. Their room was a deluxe twin suite with a private hot spring pool, though it was actually just a heated pool rather than a natural spring.

The pool was on the terrace, with a popular infinity design. Sitting in the pool, one could see beautiful city and river views.

The fireworks show was to start at 8 p.m. Rong Ke changed into swim trunks and went to the terrace first, immediately shivering in the cold wind. But as soon as he stepped into the pool, he was enveloped in warmth, sighing contentedly.

“Yan Zhi,” he called back into the room, “the fireworks are about to start.”

Although they were quite familiar now, they weren’t at the point of seeing each other naked, so they had changed in the bathroom separately.

Yan Zhi, also in swim trunks, came to join Rong Ke in the pool. Rong Ke glanced casually and noticed a particularly prominent area.

“Did you pad something?” Rong Ke asked.

“Hm?” Yan Zhi sat down next to Rong Ke. “What do you mean, pad?”

Rong Ke raised his chin, indicating a certain area.

Yan Zhi raised an eyebrow. “Do I need to?”

“If you didn’t, then what a waste of that size,” Rong Ke said offhandedly.

Yan Zhi doubted his Chinese comprehension for a moment and asked, confused, “A waste?”

“Have you heard that internet meme? The one asking what you’d do if you switched genders, and someone says they’d let their bros have some fun,” Rong Ke said with a laugh. “If you were a top, you could let me have some fun too.”

Silence.

Dead silence.

Yan Zhi looked at Rong Ke, who was resting his head on the pool’s edge, looking completely at ease. He couldn’t detect any hint of an “invitation” in Rong Ke’s manner.

Using his perfect Mandarin, Yan Zhi asked with utmost seriousness, even adopting a dubbing tone, “Are you joking?”

If Rong Ke wasn’t joking about wanting to have some fun…

Well, he wouldn’t mind carrying Rong Ke to bed right now.

However, Rong Ke’s answer was indeed disappointing.

“Of course, I’m joking,” Rong Ke said. “We’re both sisters here. Why would you work hard for my pleasure?”

Clearly, his joke was referring to the “if you were a top” part.

Yan Zhi seemed to understand something and asked uncertainly, “You think I’m a bottom?”

Rong Ke lifted his head from the pool’s edge and looked at Yan Zhi. “Aren’t you?”

So that’s how it was.

The questions of the past few days finally had an answer.

Yan Zhi had been wondering why, despite his suggestive comments, Rong Ke kept wandering around in white underwear. It turns out it wasn’t to seduce him but because Rong Ke thought of him as a “sister.”

And now.

Rong Ke’s risqué talk wasn’t an invitation, but what he thought was a humorous dirty joke between “sisters.”

All these things that could be considered “fan service” were actually because Rong Ke had misunderstood his role.

It was really… quite interesting.

With a “boom,” colorful fireworks shot into the sky.

“How did you figure it out?” Yan Zhi asked, maintaining a normal expression. “I am.”