When Duan Xiubo arrived at the studio, he happened to catch Luo Ding recording a dance.
The explosive rhythm was unfamiliar to him, and Luo Ding’s soft, whispery voice was slow and smooth. Within just a few lines, Duan Xiubo was left with a deep impression of the song. This kind of music, which could easily become a viral hit, was currently in vogue, and with He Guan’s lyrics that added depth and meaning, even someone like Duan Xiubo, who wasn’t deeply familiar with the music industry, could tell the potential of the song.
The staff around him were busy, but Duan Xiubo silently leaned against the wall, completely engrossed as he watched Luo Ding dance.
That rehearsal room video of Luo Ding’s dance was something Duan Xiubo had rewatched countless times. In the brief few minutes of footage, Luo Ding showcased his mastery over both dance and rhythm to perfection. Yet, even after watching it so many times, the impact of seeing Luo Ding perform live was something the small screen could never truly capture.
Every movement was perfectly timed to the beat, each pose hitting its mark. With his face towards the camera, his heavily made-up features stood out even more, exuding a cold and aloof aura.
Duan Xiubo’s eyes were glued to Luo Ding, following every move. He crouched alone in the corner, completely silent, until Mi Rui, unable to find him, started a search, involving Wu Fangyuan and Gu Yaxing. Only then did this secluded corner become a bit livelier.
Despite the apparent closeness between Luo Ding and Duan Xiubo, Gu Yaxing and Wu Fangyuan still treated Duan Xiubo with utmost caution. Seeing the superstar left standing in a corner unnoticed, they rushed over, alarmed, to invite him to the break room.
Duan Xiubo held up a finger, signaling them to lower their voices and not disturb Luo Ding, who was immersed in the recording.
He didn’t move and remained in place, still watching the young man on the dance floor with a solemn expression.
As the beat came to an end, the previously explosive Luo Ding stopped his movements. After confirming the recording was finished, he swayed a bit on his feet before holding his head and crouching down.
Before Gu Yaxing and Wu Fangyuan could react, Duan Xiubo had already disappeared in a flash.
“Are you okay?” Up close, Duan Xiubo realized Luo Ding was drenched in sweat. Though his hairstyle remained intact thanks to hairspray, his clothes were soaked through.
His brows furrowed tightly. “What’s going on?”
Gu Yaxing rushed over and quickly unwrapped a candy, lifting Luo Ding’s head to pop it into his mouth while scolding, “You’re killing yourself! You’re killing yourself!”
Duan Xiubo shot him a glare. Wu Fangyuan quietly explained, “His meals have been irregular these past two days. Last night, his stomach hurt so badly that he had to go to the hospital for an IV. They said it was mild gastritis. We suggested postponing the shoot by a day, but he insisted there wasn’t enough time and pushed through.”
Duan Xiubo scolded, “Didn’t I tell you last time to make sure you eat well? It’s just a few music videos. Is there really such a rush?”
Luo Ding wasn’t sure how to explain. He had been busy recording, practicing, and rehearsing dances, and he often ended up skipping meals because he was too focused on his work. By the time he finished, he was too tired to eat, and even if he tried, it only made him feel sick. This body was far more fragile than his previous one, and even though he tried forcing food down, it just led to nausea. No wonder he looked so thin.
“Four songs in five days, and after that, I need to go with you, Duan Ge, to audition for *Blade Warrior*. I really can’t delay.” He explained while smiling.
The hospital had told him it was just mild gastritis, and that with a few days of a liquid diet, he would recover quickly.
Because he had only eaten porridge in the morning, and the day’s intense physical activity had drained him, he had to shoot the dance sequences in several takes, resting between them.
Sweat poured down his back, but Luo Ding blinked his eyes hard and, with renewed energy, stood up. “You’ve seen the MV script, right, Duan Ge?”
Seeing Luo Ding push himself so hard, Duan Xiubo’s gaze became more complicated. “I’ve seen it.”
“Can we film today?”
“With your current condition—”
“I’m really fine,” Luo Ding said, patting his stomach and smiling. “What do you take me for? I really need to thank you for helping boost my momentum. There aren’t many scenes to shoot, and if we can finish today, it’ll save Duan Ge some time.”
Duan Xiubo knew that once Luo Ding made up his mind, he wouldn’t budge. Realizing there was no persuading him, he could only sigh. “No need to be so polite.”
Luo Ding smiled back at Duan Xiubo. Only he knew how much closer he had grown to Duan Xiubo over time. This formality was just a product of his polite nature. He wasn’t made of stone, and after all this time, he had come to recognize that Duan Xiubo’s concern was genuine. From the very beginning, this man had truly cared about him.
This kind of feeling was something Luo Ding was very familiar with, as he had once poured his heart and soul into Su Shengbai in a similar way. There was no helping it—when someone felt right, he treated them like family, willing to give everything, dropping all his defenses, and thinking only of how to protect them like they were his own child. But he and Su Shengbai were different. Su Shengbai had turned out to be an ungrateful traitor, while Duan Xiubo’s every little act of kindness was something Luo Ding remembered deeply and sincerely.
In full-length albums, the long runtime and multiple songs could lead to aesthetic fatigue if the entire video was just the singer performing. This made it more important for the music video to stand out with something unique. Often, the artists would play out a story through the entire video, as was the case when Luo Ding starred in Pan Yiming’s MV, where the final product ended up feeling like a dual protagonist setup rather than merely showcasing Pan Yiming.
An EP, however, was different. These smaller, non-regular discs were made specifically to promote the artist. With just a few songs totaling less than twenty minutes, there wasn’t enough time even for the artist, let alone guest stars.
The plot for the song that Duan Xiubo and Luo Ding were collaborating on was very simple. It had a fast-paced melody and a clear storyline—an angel trying to stop a massacre but becoming entangled with a fallen angel. The two fight intensely, but in the end, justice prevails over evil. Luo Ding played the angel, while Duan Xiubo, with his larger and more muscular physique, naturally became the perfect choice for the fallen angel.
The subject matter was a bit childish but had a lot of potential. If done well, the final product could be a visual feast. Of course, filming it was much more challenging than a typical music video.
The pure white angel wings were exquisitely crafted but heavy, feeling like carrying a suitcase on his back. However, with his face carefully made up, Luo Ding’s appearance on camera was even more stunning.
Duan Xiubo, while keeping an eye on Luo Ding’s condition, finished getting dressed. He didn’t need much makeup; his natural commanding presence made the black feathered wings mere accessories. His chiseled features, enhanced with just a few strokes of eyeliner, instantly gave him a menacing and sinister look. Even the occasional glance he cast off-camera made the crew hold their breath.
Luo Ding felt as if he were back to the half month of grueling work during *Crouching Dragon* filming. The wires were uncomfortable, and combined with his weakened state today, the tightening harness around his waist was making him nauseous.
But once the cameras started rolling, he immediately suppressed all discomfort and focused on his work. There wasn’t much plot—just a few prearranged moves between him and Duan Xiubo in mid-air. After filming, post-production would take care of the rest. A few more promotional photos were taken with full lighting, and by the time they wrapped up, it was almost five in the afternoon.
Luo Ding slumped onto a chair, unwilling to move. He had taken his medication, but his stomach was still cramping painfully.
“I’m fine, Duan-ge. You can go ahead. I’ll just lie here for a bit,” Luo Ding waved weakly, still trying to act tough, motioning for Duan Xiubo to leave.
But Duan Xiubo immediately grabbed his wrist. Luo Ding’s cold skin was a stark contrast to Duan’s warm, strong grip. His face was pale as paper, and cold sweat was trickling down his forehead and temples. There was no way Duan Xiubo could just walk away in good conscience seeing him like this.
“We’re going to the hospital,” Duan said firmly. “If you don’t go, then don’t bother coming with me to the *Blade Warrior* audition in a few days.”
“…Really?” Luo Ding chuckled weakly.
“You two, help me lift him,” Duan ordered without even acknowledging Luo Ding’s resistance, directing his words to Wu Fangyuan and Gu Yaxing. “Get him onto my back.”
Wu Fangyuan and Gu Yaxing quickly followed Duan’s instructions, ignoring Luo Ding’s protests. In just a few swift motions, they had him securely positioned on Duan Xiubo’s broad, warm back. Luo Ding tried to say something, but Duan just said, “Hold onto my neck,” and then effortlessly hoisted him up, securing Luo Ding’s legs.
“…”
Luo Ding, feeling weak, instinctively held onto Duan Xiubo’s shoulders. His arms, drained of strength, soon slid down, turning his grip into more of a gentle “embrace.”
As he lay against Duan’s shoulder, Luo Ding’s expression grew complicated.
This was the first time in his life that he felt what it was like to be protected by someone else. His memories of childhood were blurry, but from as long as he could remember, he had always been the protector. Resilient, strong, and unyielding, he had taken on the role of shielding those around him. Whether it was for Xu Zhen or Su Shengbai, he had given so much that he forgot how to ask for anything in return, until eventually, he began to see his sacrifices as an unquestionable part of life.
But the sudden wave of emotional exhaustion couldn’t be ignored.
Duan Xiubo was speaking softly, carrying a grown man on his back with no sign of strain, as if it required no effort at all. “You don’t look heavy, but you’re actually quite hefty. Have you seen how thin you’ve gotten? I could tell back in the film set that you’re not the kind to let people rest easy. Poor Gu and Wu, they must have the worst luck running into you. Grown man, yet still causing trouble…”
Luo Ding, lulled by Duan’s murmuring, began to feel drowsy. His stomach, pressed against Duan’s back, no longer ached as intensely. The warmth radiating from Duan’s body eased the cold that had seeped into Luo Ding, relieving his chills.
He yawned softly, resting his head on Duan’s shoulder, feeling his eyelids grow heavier and heavier.
Duan continued talking.
In that half-awake state, Luo Ding felt as though he had traveled back in time, to a distant era nearly half a century ago. He was sitting at the dilapidated table in his old home, his father’s face a blur, though the warmth emanating from him was unmistakable. His father’s voice, distant like an echo from the heavens, called out—
—”Xiao Ding… Xiao Ding… Luo Xiaoding!”
“Luo Xiaoding!”
Luo Ding jolted awake from the dream, his mind still tangled in the memory of his father’s voice. Disoriented, he stared blankly at the stark white ceiling for a while before slowly shifting his gaze around the room.
The space was small, with white walls and furniture. The sheets were all a simple, clean white, and there was a faint smell of disinfectant in the air.
“Luo Xiaoding.” A large, warm hand rested on his forehead, and the owner of the voice sounded a bit displeased. “Now that you’re awake, you’re just going to ignore me? You’re not even going to check who brought you here.”
Luo Ding turned his head towards the voice, and his alert expression immediately softened. “Duan Ge.”
Duan Xiubo smiled with his usual gentle demeanor. “Didn’t mean to wake you up, but the doctor said you need to eat and take your medicine on time. It’s 6 a.m. now, time for breakfast.”
Luo Ding was startled. “Six o’clock?! How long did I sleep?”
Helping him sit up, Duan Xiubo replied, “You passed out on my back. Sleep? More like collapse. Malnutrition, gastritis, and a messed-up schedule—do you know what that’s called?”
Luo Ding instinctively asked, “What?”
Duan Xiubo’s smile faded as he looked seriously at him. “It’s called self-destruction. If you keep this up, you’ll age faster than other actors your age. When that happens, no director will dare cast you with a face full of wrinkles.”
It was rare for Luo Ding to hear such harsh words from Duan Xiubo, but strangely, it made him feel happier. With a grin, he teased, “Is Duan Ge about to share his secret anti-aging tips with me?”
Duan Xiubo paused while unscrewing the thermos, his gaze slowly drifting to Luo Ding’s face. After a moment of staring at his widening smile, Duan sighed and, with a resigned smile, ruffled his hair.
“You win.”
Duan then stood up and left the room. Luo Ding, stunned for a moment, reached up to touch the spot where Duan had patted his head, watching Duan’s back until he disappeared.
A peculiar feeling stirred within Luo Ding, an emotion he hadn’t felt in a long time, one that brought a sense of being deeply cared for.
It reminded him of the distant memories of his father, whose face had long since faded in his mind. It reminded him of the youthful and pure Xu Zhen from many years ago…
Shaking his head to clear these disjointed thoughts, Luo Ding quickly brushed aside his emotions and took the pre-portioned medicine from the table, swallowing it with a gulp of water.
************
Wearing sunglasses and a large mask, Luo Ding was bundled up tightly. Gu Yaxing constantly reminded him to keep his head down. With Wu Fangyuan, who was hiding his blond hair under a hat, the three quickly passed through the terminal and headed to the VIP lounge after picking up their boarding passes.
Wu Fangyuan could hardly contain his excitement. “First class! Luo Ding, have you ever flown first class before?”
Luo Ding felt a little helpless, while Gu Yaxing glared at Wu. “Do you have to be so unsophisticated? There are no outsiders now, but if there were, you’d be embarrassing us.”
Still beaming, Wu Fangyuan said, “I’m not stupid. Of course, I wouldn’t say it if there were other people around. But this time, thanks to Duan Ge, we get to fly first class. What’s wrong with being a little excited?”
Gu Yaxing turned to Luo Ding and advised, “You’ve only just recovered, so you really should thank Duan Ge for taking care of you. I won’t be going this time, so it’s just you and Fangyuan. Be careful abroad. Don’t stray too far from Duan Ge. He’s got bodyguards and a translator. Foreign countries can be chaotic, so don’t try to act tough on your own.”
Luo Ding nodded, indicating he understood.
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