Luo Ding stared into Su Shengbai’s eyes. His first reaction was to quickly glance over his shoulder. In the distance, Duan Xiubo, as if sensing something, looked up and met his gaze. Their eyes collided mid-air, and Duan Xiubo froze for a moment.
The others didn’t seem to notice what was happening here.
Luo Ding relaxed slightly and shifted to sit farther away. “Get up.”
“Ah Ding!”
“Su Shengbai,” Luo Ding felt a strange, inexplicable sense of satisfaction welling up in his heart, as if it were an instinct inherent to this body. But watching Su Shengbai crouch before him, abandoning his dignity to plead for a chance to be together again, Luo Ding found the scene utterly absurd.
There was no way he would agree to such an unreasonable demand. Moreover, as far as he was concerned, the past between the original owner of this body and Su Shengbai had nothing to do with him.
“There’s no chance for us anymore. Stop doing this. There are too many eyes around.”
“Ah Ding!” Su Shengbai wanted to say more, but something flashed in the corner of his eye, and he looked up.
Duan Xiubo, with his long legs, had already strolled over to sit beside Luo Ding before Su Shengbai could react. Casually draping an arm around the back of the sofa, Duan Xiubo gave Su Shengbai a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “What’s this? Running lines or something?”
Su Shengbai, who had been tormented enough, was now scared stiff by Duan Xiubo. He quickly stood up, his voice barely audible. “No… I was just chatting with Ah Ding.”
“Oh, is that so?” Duan Xiubo turned to look at Luo Ding. Luo Ding still had a magazine spread out on his lap, and it happened to be open to the Fashion shoot. Duan Xiubo glanced at it, a smile playing on his lips as he lowered his head to meet Luo Ding’s gaze.
Without thinking, Luo Ding reached out and pushed his face away. The moment he did it, he froze and glanced at Su Shengbai. As expected, Su Shengbai was stunned too.
But Duan Xiubo didn’t mind at all. He covered Luo Ding’s hand with his own, smiling even wider. He pulled back his arm from the sofa to gently ruffle Luo Ding’s hair.
Luo Ding glared at him—his hairstyle had just been fixed, and now it was ruined again. When he looked back up, Su Shengbai had already vanished.
Duan Xiubo asked, “What happened?”
Luo Ding sighed, feeling frustrated at being caught up in something not of his making. “I don’t know. He suddenly came up and started talking about getting back together. I rejected him right away—it scared the hell out of me.”
Duan Xiubo was livid. “Getting back together? Damn it! Does he want to die?!”
“What are you doing?” Luo Ding quickly shrugged off the possessive arm Duan Xiubo had draped over his shoulder. “Stop it!”
Duan Xiubo straightened up, scanning the area for Su Shengbai, who had already fled faster than a rabbit. With no target to vent his frustration on, Duan was left fuming. When they resumed filming the second half of the scene, his intensity was so overwhelming that no one else in the frame could hold their own. Only Luo Ding remained unaffected.
Director Tang Rui had seen Luo Ding’s performance at the Milan fashion show, and he had been struck by how well the young actor suited elaborate, form-fitting clothing. This was unusual, as men’s fashion typically leans toward simplicity. Most men couldn’t pull off ostentatious outfits, but Luo Ding, despite his slender frame, had the perfect features to match the extravagant costumes of a runway. Even the heavy cape he wore at the Milan show, something that wouldn’t suit just anyone, fit him like a glove, giving him a noble and dignified air.
Tang Rui decided to draw from that style, though he had to tone it down for the film, which required the focus to be on the actor, not the costume. Wary that the clothes might still appear too lavish, the makeup artist chose to give Luo Ding a subtle smoky eye look to match his outfit—a tight-fitting gray suit. The heavy cape, still in the hands of an assistant, hadn’t been put on yet, but even without it, Luo Ding’s presence was stunning.
The cape was custom-made, trimmed with a plush layer of fur along the collar and edges, featuring a high, dramatic collar and extending down to the floor in luxurious folds.
Duan Xiubo, sitting below the stage, stroked his chin as he watched the assistant shake out the fur-trimmed cape and drape it carefully over Luo Ding’s shoulders. Tang Rui’s face lit up with joy at the sight, but Duan’s mood didn’t improve.
He looked like he was ready to pick a fight. No one dared approach him, knowing full well that when Duan Xiubo was this openly angry, it was best to avoid provoking him. Even Tang Rui was careful to keep his distance, unwilling to poke the bear. Su Shengbai, as someone with keen survival instincts, had already vanished the moment he sensed trouble. Even he wasn’t foolish enough to go head-to-head with Duan Xiubo.
Unable to locate Su Shengbai, Duan Xiubo sat through the rest of the shoot with a face completely devoid of any trace of humor.
No one dared ask him to change into his costume for the next scene.
Seeing the hesitation of the people around him, Luo Ding sighed. Draping the cape over his shoulders, he walked over to the side of the stage, near where Duan Xiubo sat, and called softly, “Old Duan? Old Duan!”
Duan Xiubo, lost in his own thoughts, snapped back to attention at the sound of his name. Recognizing Luo Ding’s voice, he suppressed his anger and looked up.
His eyes widened.
Onstage, Luo Ding stood tall, illuminated by the lights behind him. His makeup, accentuated by the stage lighting, made his already striking features even more defined. His eyes, now enhanced with eyeliner, seemed larger and glowed with an almost unnatural intensity. His sharp nose cast a shadow across his face, and his lips curled in a slight smile while his brows knitted together just slightly. The fur-lined cape framed his small, delicate face, the plush white fur softening his appearance as it cascaded down to the floor in layers. The weight of the cape forced him to stand even straighter, his posture radiating a sense of regal authority, as if he had stepped straight out of a medieval tale of nobility.
Duan Xiubo stood up, dazed. He took a few steps closer and reached out to touch the cape’s fur trim, his gaze never leaving Luo Ding’s face. A sudden urge to kneel and sing his praises surged within him, but he forced himself to hold back.
“Old Duan?” Luo Ding called again. “Hurry up and change into your costume. The crew’s already set up; they’re just waiting on you.”
“…Oh.” Duan Xiubo took a few seconds to process what Luo Ding had said, then nodded. He continued to stare at Luo Ding for a moment longer before turning and walking off, leaving Luo Ding puzzled.
****
The lights flashed, the music pounded, and the luxurious stage was surrounded by an audience of well-dressed guests. Since they were shooting a full scene, it had become a small-scale runway show.
The male models invited for the scene were all professionals. Since they wouldn’t get much screen time, Director Tang Rui wasn’t too concerned with their performances.
This long, uninterrupted tracking shot required Luo Ding to exude the unique energy of a top male model. The costume was only an accessory—the real power came from his own presence.
When Luo Ding locked eyes with Duan Xiubo, he almost felt as though he were back at Milan Fashion Week, looking into Sophia’s heavily made-up eyes. However, this moment was far more electrifying.
Their gazes collided, and Luo Ding could almost hear the crackle of electricity in the air.
Duan Xiubo smiled first, taking the first step forward.
Luo Ding, standing directly across from him, moved at the same time. They both strode toward each other, their eyes never straying from one another.
As they passed, they exchanged a quick smile before turning in unison to walk side by side. Duan Xiubo, a half-head taller, exuded an effortless dominance. Though Luo Ding’s expression grew cold and distant after they parted, his aura remained powerful, undeterred by Duan Xiubo’s presence. Together, the two men walked toward the camera, their combined presence so overwhelming that Director Tang Rui, sitting behind the monitor, could barely breathe.
“Wow…” The assistant director, who had been casually watching the monitor, ended up squatting beside Tang Rui’s chair, murmuring to himself, “These two are… something else.”
The female producer had stopped fanning herself and was now staring intently at the screen. “Don’t cut this part. I don’t care what else you cut, but this part has to stay.”
On screen, the two men reached the end of the runway, stopping in perfect synchronization. One lifted his chin slightly, while the other tilted his head down, and before turning to walk off, they shared a knowing glance.
This wasn’t in the script, but Tang Rui, biting his nails, didn’t call for a cut.
Their smiles appeared suddenly but naturally.
It was as if the ice had melted, and warmth flowed freely from deep within them, like the first refreshing sip of spring water after the thaw.
Luo Ding’s aura remained strong, but the unapproachable distance between him and the audience suddenly closed. Duan Xiubo raised a hand, casually brushing his fingers along the soft white fur lining the side of Luo Ding’s face.
Then, side by side, they strode off with unassailable confidence, their combined energy radiating outward from them like a shockwave.
******
“Cut!”
The room fell silent.
Duan Xiubo dropped the hand that had been playing with the fur trim on Luo Ding’s shoulder and glanced toward Tang Rui, who still sat behind the camera, deep in thought.
“Something feels off about this scene…” Tang Rui muttered.
The female producer frowned. “What’s wrong? I thought it was perfect.”
The assistant director winced slightly. Having worked with Tang Rui for so long, he had picked up on the director’s thinking. After watching the footage, he too felt that the atmosphere didn’t quite match what they had originally envisioned.
The relationship between Chi Yong and Song Yuan was supposed to be an awkward friendship forged through misunderstandings. But Luo Ding and Duan Xiubo had played it… a bit too intimately.
The way their gazes connected, the subtle smiles, the touch of the fur trim on Luo Ding’s face…
Tang Rui ignored them both, replaying the footage several times before finally slapping his thigh in a moment of decision. He stood up. “That’s a wrap!”
This was the final scene. His declaration held much more weight than just approving this take.
After a brief pause, the set erupted into cheers.
“Yeah!!! That’s a wrap!!!”
******
Luo Ding returned to the dressing room to change out of his costume. The cape was removed at the door and handed back to the wardrobe team, and Luo Ding, still uncomfortable with the tight-fitting clothes, asked for help removing the rest. The wardrobe assistant, sensing his discomfort, quickly agreed to let him handle it on his own.
As soon as he stepped inside, Duan Xiubo appeared out of nowhere, walking in right behind him.
Knowing that Luo Ding didn’t like changing in front of others, the makeup artist hesitated, unsure if she should ask Duan Xiubo to leave, but she was too intimidated by his status to speak up. No matter how famous Luo Ding was, Duan Xiubo still held a higher position in the industry.
“It’s fine. You can go rest now. I’ll have Fangyuan return the clothes to you later.” Luo Ding, his fingers secretly digging into Duan Xiubo’s leg, gave the makeup artist an easy out, and she quickly took the offer, leaving the two of them alone. No one wanted to get involved in any potential drama between the two actors.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Duan Xiubo had been getting bolder recently, pushing the boundaries in public. Though Luo Ding enjoyed the closeness, he still worried about the rumors such behavior might spark.
Duan didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled Luo Ding fully into the room, locked the door behind them, and pushed him up against the wall, immediately going for his belt.
Luo Ding was shocked. “Are you crazy?!”
Duan Xiubo’s eyes were bloodshot, his breathing heavy. He looked like a starving wolf that hadn’t eaten in half a month, his every move radiating an aggressive hunger.
“Luo Xiaoding… Luo Xiaoding…” Ignoring Luo Ding’s half-hearted resistance, Duan quickly pulled down his pants and crouched down. He was about to lose his mind. The image of Luo Ding standing tall on that stage, looking down at him with those glowing eyes, had been playing on repeat in his mind ever since. Luo Ding’s face, still wearing that rare, otherworldly makeup, was driving him wild with desire.
Luo Ding couldn’t understand what had gotten Duan so riled up, but the sensations coursing through his body soon made him abandon any thoughts of resistance. Pressing his hand down on Duan Xiubo’s head, he forcefully guided him closer. When Duan glanced up at him with those burning eyes, Luo Ding felt an overwhelming urge to fully dominate this man.
Duan Xiubo willingly submitted, letting himself be controlled. Luo Ding bit his lip, trying to suppress the rough gasps that threatened to escape. His tongue darted out to lick at the indents left by his teeth, and though he wanted to speak, his throat felt too tight, as if it were being squeezed.
“Ah… Old… Old Duan…”
Duan Xiubo stopped, wanting to hear what Luo Ding had to say.
Luo Ding’s gaze momentarily cleared, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, there was a sudden knock on the dressing room door. Wu Fangyuan’s voice called out from outside, “Ah Ding, Xiao Liu asked me to grab your clothes. Are you done changing? Director Tang is talking about the celebration party. Hurry up.”
Luo Ding froze, a cold sweat breaking out across his back. He quickly pushed Duan Xiubo’s head away.
But Duan Xiubo chuckled softly and, instead of stopping, continued with even more fervor, his movements growing more brazen.
Luo Ding’s legs trembled, his waist quivered uncontrollably. In the end, he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, his mouth open in a silent scream.
Luo Ding’s legs were weak, and his waist was trembling. He had no choice but to press firmly against Duan Xiubo, signaling him to stop messing around. With a strained, hoarse voice, he called out toward the outside, “I’m tired, taking a break. Come back later!”
“Oh,” Wu Fangyuan replied casually, but didn’t leave. “I’ll just wait here for you. Take your time and rest.”
Damn it, just leave already!!!
Duan Xiubo, clearly pleased with himself, helped Luo Ding put his pants back on before using a tissue to discreetly clean up. Then, he leaned in to nuzzle against Luo Ding, his mood thoroughly content.
The satisfaction he felt was beyond words. Every cell in Luo Ding’s body had responded to his touch, dancing under his command. At the same time, in some deep, almost imperceptible way, he was also conquering Luo Ding, gradually and subtly weaving himself into every aspect of Luo Ding’s life.
Who cared about Su Shengbai? He could go to hell.
Both the fans and the industry had already made it clear—Luo Ding’s official partner could only be him!
Luo Ding, completely worn out, didn’t have the energy to get mad. Duan’s full-hearted devotion was hard to resist, even if the location… well, wasn’t exactly appropriate. Still, Luo Ding appreciated the sentiment behind it.
He patted Duan Xiubo’s face, and after a long pause, managed to say, “You’re such a troublemaker.”
Duan Xiubo pressed a kiss to his lips, whispering, “I want you…”
“Not here.” Luo Ding cradled Duan’s face in his hands, pressing several gentle kisses against him. He wasn’t quite used to such open displays of affection, but the idea of rejecting him outright… that felt a little too harsh. Ignoring the earlier awkwardness, he decided to focus on the sweetness of the moment. “When we get home, I’ll give you what you want.”
Duan Xiubo locked eyes with him. “Five minutes.”
“…What?”
“It only took five minutes,” Duan Xiubo grinned, mischief glinting in his eyes. “There’s no one else like you. Only five minutes—who else would put up with you?”
Whatever affection Luo Ding had been feeling moments earlier evaporated in an instant. His fingers twitched, and he clenched his fists, fighting the urge to punch him. After what had just happened, he couldn’t bring himself to hit Duan, so he settled for pushing his face away while he fixed his pants.
Seeing the shift in Luo Ding’s expression, Duan Xiubo instantly knew he had said the wrong thing. His scalp tingled as he scrambled to apologize.
“Get lost.” Luo Ding paused halfway through pulling his pants up, realizing that these pants weren’t even his and had to be returned. He clenched his teeth in frustration, bending over to take them off. Duan, his eyes locked on Luo Ding’s movements, reached out to touch him, only to be kicked aside.
“Luo Xiaoding!”
“Get lost!”
Keep me fueled with caffeine! Support me on Ko-fi! It helps a lot ! Thank you so much ♡(´・ω・)(・ω・`)♡
thank you for the chapter 🤗