On the way to the event, the fans’ questions frequently mentioned Duan Xiubo, at an oddly high frequency.
Yes, Duan Xiubo was indeed one of the biggest stars in China at the moment, far surpassing Luo Ding in fame, reputation, and fanbase. But for his name to appear so often during Luo Ding’s own fan gathering… Why?
As soon as Luo Ding got into the car, he voiced his confusion.
Gu Yaxing rubbed his forehead, looking pained. “It’s a long story, and there’s no internet here. I’ll show you something once we’re back at the office.”
Show him what?
Once in the office, Gu Yaxing booted up his computer and typed something into the search bar. He navigated to a niche video site Luo Ding had never heard of before.
Typing two words into the search field—”Duan Luo”—Gu Yaxing clicked search.
Over three thousand results came up.
Luo Ding was dumbfounded just looking at the thumbnails of the top videos. Those were his photos!
Gu Yaxing randomly picked a video titled “[DuanLuo] Ancient Style, ‘Luzhou Moonlight'” and clicked play. Handing the mouse over to Luo Ding, he said, “Watch it yourself. Pause it whenever you can’t stand it anymore.”
What Gu Yaxing did next left Luo Ding feeling like he was dealing with a madman. After over a month apart, communication with him had become impossible.
The video began with soft, melodic music. Luo Ding’s eyes widened as the visuals unfolded.
“Whose light did you steal as a child…” accompanied by the music, the screen showed an antique bridge with stone tiles, ancient houses lining both sides, willows swaying, peach blossoms in bloom, and a misty river running below. The scene was idyllic and breathtaking.
The camera panned smoothly, crossing over rooftops covered in green tiles, then transitioning into a seemingly endless bamboo forest.
Another cut brought the scene to a lone figure in white robes standing among the trees. His back was to the camera, but as if sensing the gaze behind him, he slowly turned his head.
Wait… wasn’t that a clip from *The Legend of Tang*?
But the editing, paired with the soft music and filtered visuals, made the scene feel less ominous, with Luo Ding’s character seeming more youthful and fragile.
The music continued, and soon, a tall, handsome young man appeared, holding a book, deeply focused on his reading. As he read, he paused, glancing in the same direction.
This young man was undoubtedly Duan Xiubo!
Luo Ding instantly recognized the scene. It was from Duan Xiubo’s *Ghostly Romance*, filmed five years ago!
But how were these two scenes connected?
In the video, Duan Xiubo followed his script, reading, packing his belongings, and preparing to leave for the imperial exams. Another cut showed Luo Ding standing atop a city gate, his expression distant, eyes filled with a mix of hope, despair, and deep sorrow.
In *The Legend of Tang*, that shot made perfect sense. But here… it felt off.
The video kept playing until it reached a scene where Luo Ding’s character was spying on Duan Xiubo’s character on his wedding night. At that point, Luo Ding couldn’t take it anymore and angrily paused the video, left speechless.
Gu Yaxing sipped his tea, looking pleased that he didn’t have to explain. “That’s why.”
Why? What do you mean, why?
These CP (couple pairing) video editors must be professionals. How could they splice scenes together so seamlessly? Luo Ding clicked on a few more videos and found that they varied in style and quality. Some were clearly professional, while others were amateurish, with vastly different approaches.
Luo Ding fell silent.
Gu Yaxing slowly tried to comfort him. “Don’t be mad. There’s no point in getting angry over this. I didn’t expect the CP pairing to blow up like this after *Crouching Dragon’s* promo stills were released. Your relationship with Duan Xiubo is normal; don’t let these rumors change that.”
The truth was, things had already changed. Luo Ding glanced sympathetically at Gu Yaxing. Gu Yaxing thought Luo Ding was angry, but he wasn’t. He was just a little scared.
Would these rumors cause people to start questioning his relationship with Duan Xiubo? Would anyone actually believe they were together?
These thoughts stayed with Luo Ding even when Gu Yaxing took him to try on outfits for the awards show’s red carpet.
The black suit looked high-quality, but while trying it on, Luo Ding noticed something odd. There was no tag. He turned the lining over and was stunned by what he saw: *
?*
*Vanke* was a brand known mostly for women’s clothing, but they made a limited number of men’s high-end custom suits, which were rarely sold in stores. The designs were distinct and luxurious, making it a niche brand in the world of luxury fashion.
But niche or not, luxury was still luxury. The few men’s pieces they made were of top-notch quality and sold at a higher price than their women’s clothing. This suit alone was likely worth more than a year of Luo Ding’s rent. How could stingy Gu Yaxing afford this? And if it was rented, Luo Ding’s current fame didn’t seem enough for *Vanke* to sponsor him.
Gu Yaxing clearly had no idea of its value. He casually shook out the suit, answering Luo Ding’s inquiry with a delayed realization. “Oh, this was sent over by Triumph Media this morning. Mi Rui called me to let me know. It’s a sponsored suit, so be careful not to tear it, or we’ll have to pay.”
He tugged at the sleeves as he spoke, checking for wrinkles. “They didn’t say much when they dropped it off… What brand was it again…?”
Luo Ding, amused, showed him the tiny lettering inside the lining, causing Gu Yaxing to freak out.
“Holy crap! Holy crap!” He quickly switched from holding the suit with one hand to cradling it with both, carefully laying it flat on the couch. Then he eyed the pants Luo Ding was already wearing, his expression screaming, *What if this suit gets damaged tonight?!*
“Doesn’t matter!” Gu Yaxing clenched his fists, taking on a fierce expression as he pointed at Luo Ding. “Don’t ruin this suit! Got it?”
Looking presentable was always beneficial for an artist.
Luo Ding buttoned the suit jacket and turned in front of the full-length mirror, scrutinizing himself.
You could tell the difference with a luxury brand. Luo Ding hadn’t worn a regular suit in years, but since coming into this body, he had relived the struggles of his youth. Now, in this high-end suit, it was as if he had stepped back into the glamorous life of his prime.
Gu Yaxing was full of praise from behind him, but Luo Ding slowly frowned, sensing something off.
After a long moment, his eyes landed on his wrist.
Removing his watch and setting it aside, he saw the look improve dramatically.
An expensive suit paired with a watch worth a tenth of its value simply didn’t match. The incongruity was obvious to anyone paying attention. This was why stars needed to keep earning; their expenses, from luxury clothes to watches and jewelry for women, only grew the more famous they became.
There was always another red carpet, sometimes multiple events in a month, and this was an industry where wearing the same outfit twice invited ridicule. Stars had to maintain their image, their status—at any cost.
This vicious cycle explained why so many stars fell from grace later in life. After experiencing such luxury, it was hard to return to a simpler life. To avoid a fall from grace, one had to start planning an exit strategy while still young, ensuring financial security before age and wrinkles made them scramble for work.
Luo Ding smiled at his reflection, thoughts swirling in his head. His mind buzzed like a swarm of flies, overwhelmed with noise, until Gu Yaxing’s ringtone brought him back to reality.
Gu Yaxing answered the call, then stepped outside to pick up something.
A moment later, he returned with a black paper bag and a puzzled expression.
“What is it?” Luo Ding asked.
“Duan Xiubo’s assistant sent this over.” Gu Yaxing opened the bag, revealing a sleek black wooden box. Inside was a thin, wide watch.
Still confused, Luo Ding’s phone rang. It was Duan Xiubo.
It was already nearing midnight in Duan Xiubo’s time zone, and the background was quiet, with the faint sound of running water.
“Does the suit fit?” Duan Xiubo’s voice was as magnetic as ever, smooth as melted chocolate. “If anything doesn’t fit, you can get it altered. Did the watch arrive?”
A few responses ran through Luo Ding’s mind, but he ultimately chose the simplest. “Everything fits perfectly. Thank you.”
“Good luck at the awards ceremony. Come back soon. I miss you.”
Luo Ding instinctively glanced at Gu Yaxing, who hadn’t overheard but was staring intently at his hands the moment he realized the call was from Duan Xiubo.
Luo Ding stepped away, creating some distance, and finally replied, “The ceremony will be over soon. I’ll be back after that.”
“Don’t you miss me?”
Luo Ding didn’t want the conversation to veer into something too ambiguous, but neither evading nor brushing it off was his style. He gave it some thought and realized he had, in fact, thought about Duan Xiubo a few times since trying on the suit.
So he answered honestly, “Yeah, a little.”
Indeed, just a little.
As Luo Ding caught his reflection in the mirror, he was startled to realize that, somewhere along the line, his eyes had filled with warmth.
R : Have a nice week-end guys ( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡
Keep me fueled with caffeine! Support me on Ko-fi! ★~(◡‿◡✿)
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