Explosive news instantly dominated the headlines across all media outlets.
“Famous Director Xu Zhen in a serious car accident, crashed into the mountain wall on Pan Mountain Highway, currently in critical condition.”
When Luo Ding heard the news of Xu Zhen being hospitalized from the gossiping actors on set, he didn’t react immediately. He just stood there, dumbfounded.
Duan Xiubo also heard it. He turned to glance at the actor, who was chatting away with his phone in hand. Sensing his gaze, the actor raised his phone and spoke even louder: “Director Xu Zhen was in a car accident, right there at Longhu Mountain in the suburbs. He’s in the hospital now, in emergency treatment.”
Duan Xiubo’s brow furrowed instantly. He had been busy preparing for the filming of *The Assassin*. Universal Studios had just agreed to transfer the production rights to Triumph Media, and he was still thinking about which actors to choose and how to tell Luo Ding about it. And now, Xu Zhen was in a car crash.
After hearing Mi Rui’s previous comments about Xu Zhen, Duan Xiubo had looked up some of the recent news about Xu Zhen and Su Shengbai. If those reports were true, his opinion of them had really plummeted. Not to mention Su Shengbai’s ungrateful behavior—it made him want to vomit. As for Xu Zhen, though he had fewer obvious flaws compared to Su Shengbai, his professional ability was strong. After discussing it with Yu Shaotian and others for a long time, Duan Xiubo decided not to replace Xu Zhen.
Now his mood had turned sour. But given that it was a car accident, people’s lives were at stake, so he quickly called Mi Rui. Mi Rui had already heard the news from Universal before the media reported it, and he was now at the hospital where Xu Zhen was being treated.
What a mess!
While Mi Rui reassured Duan Xiubo over the phone, he stood outside the emergency room, staring at the red “In Surgery” sign. The words “Rescue in Progress” weighed heavily on him. Life was unpredictable.
Xu Zhen was already beyond pain, slipping in and out of consciousness, his life flashing before his eyes like a movie reel—everything he had experienced, his career, his family, his friends, his lovers.
“Ah Kun…” In his blurry vision, he saw a tall man with deep eyes standing there, smiling at him.
Xu Zhen called out to him, “Ah Kun…” The figure nodded, reaching out a hand with perfectly trimmed nails and long, strong fingers.
Xu Zhen wanted to touch him, but he didn’t have the strength to lift his hand. His vision blurred again, and the figure suddenly disappeared.
“…”
Xu Zhen trembled and coughed up a mouthful of blood, which slid down his chin and soaked into his hair, mixing with his tears.
He didn’t want to die. He couldn’t die. He mustn’t die.
He had so many things left undone, even if just a little more time… He couldn’t die now!
******
After hanging up the phone with Mi Rui, Duan Xiubo turned around and saw that Luo Ding was still standing there, frozen. His eyes were blank, lost in thought, unmoving. He looked so helpless that it tugged at the heartstrings.
Duan Xiubo was taken aback. He moved closer, draping his arm around Luo Ding’s shoulders, guiding him to a nearby seat. “What’s wrong?”
Luo Ding turned his head very slowly, his voice light and detached: “… Xu Zhen… Xu Zhen was in a car accident?”
Duan Xiubo was about to confirm when he noticed something off about Luo Ding’s expression. They stood there, face to face, both seemingly at a loss. Duan Xiubo frowned. “… What’s wrong with you?”
Luo Ding was silent for a while, then snapped back to reality, shaking his head and reaching to grab Duan Xiubo’s arm.
The exhaustion on his face was undeniable, and Duan Xiubo didn’t dare take it lightly. He glanced around at the people nearby, still unsure if Luo Ding was okay or if there was something he couldn’t say out in the open.
During indoor shooting, every actor had their own dressing room, though most were quite small. Duan Xiubo’s was the best one. He brought Luo Ding to his dressing room and locked the door. He was about to ask what was bothering Luo Ding when he turned around and found his face suddenly cupped by cool hands.
His lips were immediately captured in a kiss.
Duan Xiubo froze for a few seconds, but soon all his questions melted away. The only thing he remembered was wrapping his arms around Luo Ding’s waist, turning them both until Luo Ding was pressed against the door, and deepening the kiss with full passion and intention.
Luo Ding felt the urge to cry, but he wasn’t someone who easily shed tears. When he was betrayed by two people working together to stab him in the back, he had calmly walked down the mountain with a chilling composure.
But now, hearing about Xu Zhen’s car accident, his heart simply could not settle.
The emotions were too complicated. Memories that had been deliberately buried started to surface—hatred, past affection, mixed with an inevitable worry. He didn’t want to think about it all.
Sympathy or being held back by the past—it didn’t matter anymore. These things no longer had any relevance to him, nor should they.
The person in front of him was the most important now.
Luo Ding’s movements changed from holding Duan Xiubo’s head to wrapping his arms around his neck. Duan Xiubo’s back muscles were strong and defined. Whenever Luo Ding had touched them before, it had always piqued his interest. His favorite part, though, was the short stubble at the back of Duan Xiubo’s neck, just where it hadn’t been completely shaved. The tiny, bristling hairs stood stiff, like Duan Xiubo’s no-nonsense attitude, giving him the sensation of being pricked by a knife blade whenever his fingers glided over them.
Duan Xiubo’s kisses were hot and intense, moving to a rhythm of his own that could instantly ignite passion. Unless he willingly backed down, under such an onslaught, Luo Ding would always eventually surrender, allowing Duan Xiubo to take the lead.
It seemed the mood had been ignited suddenly, and because of Luo Ding’s usual restraint, they had never been this intimate in public before. Duan Xiubo was clearly excited. His heavy breathing washed over Luo Ding’s face, getting more rapid as their lips and tongues intertwined. His hands, restless, began to explore all over.
The door creaked softly under the pressure.
Luo Ding felt Duan Xiubo rubbing against his thigh. In truth, Luo Ding’s head was already spinning from the kiss, but what little rationality he had left reminded him that he should push Duan Xiubo away.
It took some effort, but Luo Ding managed to pry them apart just a little. Duan Xiubo, still panting, leaned his forehead against Luo Ding’s. “Why so passionate today?”
“Keep your voice down.” Luo Ding was worried someone might hear them. He tilted his head, listening for any noise outside the door, then gave Duan Xiubo a light kiss on the lips and pulled him into a long hug.
Duan Xiubo was still trying to steady his breathing, but at the same time, he sensed Luo Ding’s sadness.
Luo Ding had always been so positive and driven, like he had an endless supply of energy for chasing his dreams. Duan Xiubo couldn’t imagine what kind of blow could knock him down like this. Cautiously, he wrapped his arms around Luo Ding as well.
“What’s wrong?”
Luo Ding shook his head. There were some things he couldn’t share with Duan Xiubo. “I’m sorry.”
Duan Xiubo gave a bewildered smile. “What’s going on? Why are you apologizing all of a sudden? I’m right here. You don’t have to carry everything by yourself.”
Luo Ding fell silent. The atmosphere turned quiet, so quiet that Luo Ding felt a sudden urge to let down his guard and fall asleep. He wasn’t sure what to say, but then he felt a tightness around his waist—Duan Xiubo had already lifted him up and carried him toward the sofa.
Luo Ding didn’t resist as Duan Xiubo gently laid him down on the soft cushions, kneeling down to remove his shoes.
“If you don’t want to talk about it, then don’t. We can talk later.” Duan Xiubo understood that everyone had their own secrets they didn’t want to share. As a man, his pride and stubbornness often kept him from revealing everything, and he hated being pushed to explain himself. He figured Luo Ding was the same. As long as it wasn’t Su Shengbai who was causing Luo Ding to feel this way, Duan Xiubo wouldn’t be upset.
Running his fingers through Luo Ding’s soft, smooth hair, he watched as Luo Ding fell asleep almost as soon as he lay down. The room was soon filled with the sound of light snoring.
He must be exhausted…
Duan Xiubo felt his heart ache even more.
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