Austin, sword in hand, stormed into the bathhouse, his luxurious robe flowing behind him. Almost instantly, his gaze locked onto the youth lying naked by the edge of the bath.
Alfred was slender and delicate, his black hair, like silk, fanned out in the water, floating and clinging to his shoulders. Austin hesitated for a brief moment, but then his eyes turned sharp. He strode over, ignoring Alfred’s startled retreat, and slashed at his head with his sword.
Alfred plunged into the water. When he resurfaced in the middle of the bath, his face was pale with fear. He tried to move towards the edge while watching Austin’s erratic behavior, shouting, “What are you doing?!”
The pool wasn’t large. Austin jumped into the water, sending splashes everywhere, and quickly closed in on the retreating youth.
The sword strikes were fierce, aimed to kill. Alfred didn’t understand what was happening, but his survival instincts kicked in. He dodged the blade and, using the buoyancy of the water, kicked at Austin’s stomach. Austin swiftly grabbed his ankle and yanked him closer.
Why?!
Alfred’s eyes widened, bloodshot with disbelief and fear.
The man he revered, the one he admired the most, was now trying to kill him! Had he done something wrong? Had he somehow damaged the army’s or Austin’s interests?
In an instant, Austin’s sword slashed downward.
Alfred, resigning himself to fate, let out a low moan, closing his eyes like a calf awaiting slaughter. His blood boiled, bracing for the death he was about to meet. He was terrified, unwilling to die, and even more unable to accept that he would be judged like this, without understanding why.
His pores tightened and opened as intricate patterns, like tumbling dominoes, appeared from the base of his spine, spreading across his pale skin, climbing up his waist, back, and even part of his abdomen. The rippling water reflected a shimmering light on his body, making the boy, waiting quietly for his death with his eyes closed, breathtakingly beautiful.
Austin gripped his sword, but the tip slowly drifted away from Alfred’s face, and without a sound, the blade was cast aside.
He stepped closer, staring at Alfred’s face, then reached out, pausing briefly near Alfred’s trembling eyelashes before his hand slid down to the vine-like markings on Alfred’s exposed abdomen.
Alfred shuddered and opened his eyes. “What are you doing?!”
“Elven Forest… magical vines blessed by the forest…” Austin murmured to himself, completely ignoring Alfred’s panic. His hand pressed closer, eventually starting to knead Alfred’s waist and abdomen.
Alfred, utterly terrified, pushed Austin away, trying to escape. Austin, however, seemed crazed and shouted, “Don’t move!!! Let me see clearly!!!!”
“Are you mad?!” Alfred screamed, trying to swim to the edge, his face full of fear. But Austin grabbed his arm, yanking him back effortlessly.
“Let go of me!!!” Alfred began to scream, kicking and struggling.
Austin, becoming more and more agitated, was breathing heavily, his gaze turning feverish and fixated.
“Don’t move,” he said again, twice, and when Alfred still tried to escape, Austin frowned, forcefully flipping him over and pressing his shoulders against the side of the pool. He pinned him down, locking him in place with his legs.
“Don’t move!!”
Alfred was on the verge of losing his mind. “My lord!!!”
Austin gently brushed aside Alfred’s smooth black hair, softly running his fingers over the rounded shoulder and pushing the hair to the front. In a near reverent manner, he stared at the markings spread across Alfred’s exposed back.
His eyes grew more and more fervent, while his actions became gentler. Suddenly choking with emotion, he whispered, “Magical vines… Alfred, where do you come from?”
He leaned closer to Alfred, embracing him softly from behind. “Where do you come from?”
Alfred trembled all over. “Let me go…”
“Where do you come from?” Austin kept murmuring. “Tell me, where do you come from?”
“I’m from the Principality of Saifan…” Alfred sobbed softly. “Please let me go…”
“No, you’re wrong. You’re not from the Principality of Saifan; you’re from the Eastern Continent, the most prosperous land.” Austin held him tighter, his head pressed against Alfred’s cheek, his hand slipping below the water to caress Alfred’s waist and abdomen. “Look at these beautiful patterns. Your blood is noble, blessed and protected by the Elven Forest. Your parents… they must have never told you this…”
“My father was a farmer…” Alfred replied, bewildered.
“They kicked you out. They weren’t your real parents. They weren’t even your foster parents.”
As Austin spoke, he stared deeply at Alfred’s glistening shoulder before bending down and placing a soft kiss on that patch of skin.
“Cut!!”
**
Luo Ding shoved Duan Xiubo away as soon as he heard the director’s shout, quickly putting distance between them, his heart full of fury.
Duan Xiubo’s hand… the one underwater… Was he really so bold as to think he wouldn’t be caught because they were facing the pool wall?! How dare he touch him… touch him in public… *that place*…
Nearly stumbling in the water after being pushed, Duan Xiubo saw Luo Ding climb swiftly out of the pool. His skin-tight costume, now soaking wet, clung to his body, outlining every firm and flexible muscle.
Duan Xiubo’s fists clenched underwater until Wu Fangyuan draped a bathrobe over Luo Ding’s shoulders, covering up that tempting view. Only then did Duan Xiubo manage to regain his composure and stop himself from following Luo Ding out.
The water was cold, but his body was burning.
Luo Ding’s expression wasn’t good, and he didn’t bother to hide his anger. Everyone assumed it was because of the cold, and the makeup artist rushed over, reminding him, “Be careful when you dry off. Don’t rub too hard, or you’ll smudge the designs, and we’ll have to redo them.”
With his long, wet hair hanging down his back, Luo Ding retreated to the rest area, gulping down a large mouthful of ginger tea, feeling as though his insides were on fire.
Duan Xiubo was getting bolder by the day! Small gestures during filming were one thing, but how dare he do something so blatant in front of everyone?! He must have done it on purpose! Luo Ding had been acting for years and could easily tell whether an on-set gesture was accidental or deliberate. Duan Xiubo’s hand hadn’t just rested there; he had *squeezed*, even trying to slide his hand into Luo Ding’s waistband. Fortunately, he had only lingered around his abdomen before
pulling back, or else Luo Ding would have given him a beating right then and there. As it was, he could only stew in his anger alone.
Taking several deep breaths, Luo Ding rubbed his shoulder discreetly, trying to quell the tingling sensation that had spread from his calves all the way to his neck.
Meanwhile, Clovis was scrutinizing the playback, his brows knitting tighter and tighter. Something felt off.
The fight choreography was well-executed, and both actors were fully invested in the scene, even exceeding expectations in some parts. But… Clovis couldn’t shake the feeling that the atmosphere between the two had turned… a bit too ambiguous.
Especially the kiss Duan Xiubo had planted on Luo Ding’s shoulder—it hadn’t been part of the planned sequence. Yet it had been perfectly timed, effectively conveying Austin’s intense emotions.
Peering through the crowd, Clovis’s gaze landed on Duan Xiubo, still in the water. His expression was complicated.
Mi Rui, meanwhile, was practically in a panic. “Get out of the water already! It’s freezing—you’ll catch a cold!”
Duan Xiubo stretched his arms and legs, waiting until the heat in his body had finally subsided. Then, feigning nonchalance, he climbed out of the pool. Mi Rui quickly removed his robe and carefully patted him dry, all the while scolding him for not taking better care of himself. With the onset of autumn, the weather had turned cold, and soaking in the chilly pool was practically begging to get sick.
Duan Xiubo let himself be scolded, silently agreeing that he must have lost his mind. Luo Ding had clearly been angry when he walked off, and Duan had to admit, his hands had been far too eager. Acting on impulse had nearly made the situation unbearably awkward. Standing up(getting hard ) during a love(s*x) scene was one thing, but during a fight scene? He could only imagine what the crew would say.
“Luo Ding, Duan, come here for a moment,” Clovis called, forcing both men to set aside their personal grievances and approach him.
Clovis replayed the scene, pointing to the moment when Duan Xiubo kissed Luo Ding’s shoulder. “What was that about?”
Luo Ding’s mouth twitched as the simmering anger he’d just managed to tamp down flared up again.
But Duan Xiubo, always quick on his feet, jumped in. “I’ve been analyzing Austin’s character. He’s disciplined, stoic, resilient, and values loyalty. He’s always so lonely, even when facing the Elven Queen, he shows no emotion. Don’t you think that, deep down, Alfred is more than just a friend to him?”
“…,” Luo Ding was speechless.
“…,” Clovis’s expression shifted slightly. “It seems…”
“Right?” Duan Xiubo maintained a businesslike seriousness. “I was just trying to explore that—this subtle boundary-pushing. Of course, if you think it’s inappropriate, I won’t insist.”
Clovis was silent for a moment, staring at the monitor and flipping through the script. After a long while, he finally nodded. “I think you’re right.”
Luo Ding’s eyes widened in shock.
Clovis, however, seemed genuinely pleased. “Your suggestion adds a new layer I hadn’t considered. Very well. We’ll keep this gesture in mind for the other scenes. Luo Ding, this guy often improvises during shoots. I’ll need you to work with him.”
“…Of course.” What else could Luo Ding say? With Clovis’s approval, he had no choice but to comply. Instinctively, he raised a hand to rub his shoulder, but quickly stopped himself, withdrawing his hand in frustration. Aside from his anger, he felt something else brewing inside him.
The rest of the scenes went smoothly. The early sequences of filming were a great success, and as a reward, the two lead actors were allowed to wrap up early and get some much-needed rest.
Luo Ding wasn’t feeling well. The cold water had left him with a slight fever, and while he wasn’t sneezing yet, the early signs of a cold were unmistakable. If he fell sick, it would undoubtedly affect his performance in the coming days.
After taking a long, hot shower, Luo Ding drank a bowl of thick ginger soup that Wu Fangyuan had prepared. He even chewed on a piece of raw ginger, despite the burning sensation it left in his mouth and throat. He didn’t dare swallow it, fearing it would irritate his throat further. The heat that spread through his body made him sweat profusely, but it was a welcome relief.
After a second shower to wash off the sweat, Luo Ding changed into his pajamas, climbed into bed, and turned on his computer.
As he waited for the device to boot up, his mind wandered aimlessly.
Unconsciously, his hand drifted to his shoulder. That spot had been kissed countless times today. The lingering sensation crawled from deep within his muscles, like ants with countless legs skittering across his skin, leaving him restless and uneasy.
This was just work.
Duan Xiubo, that bastard…
He was taking advantage of the fact that this was his turf…
Luo Ding absentmindedly ran his hand over his shoulder, a mixture of anger and confusion swirling within him. It wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d expected.
Someone knocked on the door, pulling him from his thoughts. Luo Ding sat up. “Who is it?”
There was a brief pause outside before a soft voice replied, “It’s me.”
It was Duan Xiubo.
Luo Ding instantly regretted not pretending he wasn’t in the room.
“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” Duan Xiubo asked.
R : Mooooh he’s kinda cute
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