The room was dim, and only the ticking of the second hand could be heard.
The walls and bedding were pure white. The room was small, with a light hanging from the ceiling, and an old-fashioned chamber pot sat in the corner. In the bed lay a person sleeping fitfully, their faint struggling breaths coming through their nose.
“Old Xu…”
“Old Xu…”
“Old Xu!”
The voice seemed to come from afar, carried by a cold wind, echoing through the room like a distant call in a limestone cave.
Cold wind brushed his face. Xu Zhen furrowed his brows tightly, unable to speak as sweat beaded on his forehead.
His limbs felt bound by ropes, rendering him immobile. In the stillness of the room, a faint, ethereal figure gradually appeared.
It floated in through the wide-open window, tall and solid, without feet. Smoke replaced its legs, but its facial features were clear.
Cao Dingkun smiled at him, calling softly, “Old Xu…”
Xu Zhen curled into a ball, struggling to discern something in Cao Dingkun’s eyes. Those eyes shone unusually bright, both familiar and foreign. Floating in mid-air, Cao gradually descended and drifted toward the bed.
Xu Zhen wanted to run, but he couldn’t even muster the strength to shake his head. Cao Dingkun’s bright eyes locked with his for a moment, and then he asked softly, “Old Xu, I’ve been gone for so long, don’t you miss me?”
Xu Zhen began to cry internally, desperately pleading, “I miss you, please don’t kill me,” but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out.
Cao Dingkun’s smile abruptly vanished. “You don’t miss me?!”
Xu Zhen wanted to shake his head, to tell him he was wrong, but he could only stare helplessly as Cao Dingkun’s face twisted into a grotesque snarl. Suddenly, he lunged, his hands curled like claws, reaching out to choke him.
In mid-air, everything seemed surreal. Cao’s features became obscured by the smoke swirling below him, but as the wind blew across Xu Zhen’s face, it dispersed the smoke, revealing the face beneath…
Xu Zhen jolted violently, his eyes snapping open. Sweat trickled from his temples down to the back of his neck, but he couldn’t care about the itch.
His mind was blank, heart pounding wildly. Stars burst before his eyes as exhaustion drained every ounce of strength from his body. The cold wind whipped against his face, and his already taut nerves went into overdrive. He turned his head in horror.
The window was wide open, and the curtains billowed dramatically in the night breeze, bulging and fluttering ominously. His eyes widened in fear.
He wanted to get up, but even his right hand, the only part of him still mobile, felt weak. Terrified, Xu Zhen repeatedly pressed the emergency button, his gaze fixed in terror on the fluttering curtains, nearly crying from fear.
Two caretakers were sleeping in another room. Xu Zhen had his own private room at night. Upon hearing the emergency bell, they rushed over, fearing some terrible incident had occurred. The moment they entered, cups and fruit came flying at them as Xu Zhen’s furious shouts echoed through the quiet night: “Are you all dead?! You forgot to close the window?!”
His temper was nothing new. If not for the high salary, the caretakers would have left long ago. Afraid of his wrath, they stood there obediently until his anger subsided. To avoid blame, they nervously defended themselves: “We really did close it…”
They glanced up at him, but Xu Zhen’s face grew even darker, so they dared not say more and quickly shut the window and pulled the curtains. Inwardly, they cursed: *Ugh, so you’re a big-shot director? Who knows how much bad stuff you’ve done to feel so guilty. Scared of what? Afraid someone’s coming for your life?*
Xu Zhen didn’t sleep at all that night. Before leaving the next morning, the caretakers handed him the phone, saying someone urgently wanted to speak to him.
The person on the other end was Su Shengbai. Ever since the car accident, both had seemingly tried to forget each other’s existence. Su Shengbai, likely burdened with guilt, hadn’t accepted any jobs for a long time. Though his voice was still soft, there was an unmistakable trace of anger: “Brother Xu! Why did you say such things during the interview?!”
Xu Zhen was momentarily stunned before realizing what he was referring to. His brows furrowed slightly. During the interview, his mind had been in a fog. It wasn’t the camera that made him nervous, but the smile on Luo Ding’s face that left him dazed. To make matters worse, the reporter had brought up Cao Dingkun, and Xu Zhen, overwhelmed, had blurted out the wrong words.
But this didn’t give Su Shengbai the right to question him.
Xu Zhen sneered and hung up without responding. Honestly, in his current state, what was there left to hold on to besides his films?
Su Shengbai heard the dial tone, stared blankly for a moment, and then began pacing his room in agitation.
Xu Zhen’s current state worried him more and more. He had a constant sense that the man had turned into a rabid, old dog, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce and bite at any moment.
******
Whatever his character might be, Xu Zhen’s work ethic was at least commendable. Even though Luo Ding had no desire to engage with him anymore, when he overheard others in the crew gossiping about how hard Xu Zhen worked, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of agreement.
However, Luo Ding couldn’t shake the feeling that Xu Zhen’s mental state was rapidly deteriorating. It wasn’t just a gut feeling. Most of the crew’s gossip revolved around Xu Zhen’s erratic behavior. His sudden outbursts were one thing, but breaking objects for no apparent reason was a real problem. Luo Ding knew Xu Zhen had a bad temper and could be violent, but throwing things wasn’t something he used to do often. Seeing him in the crew recently, with his bloodshot eyes and ragged breathing, alternating between clarity and confusion, was unnerving.
Apart from these outbursts, Xu Zhen was generally silent. When not resting, he was either reviewing footage or working on the set. He was very self-assured and rarely took advice from his assistants. Early in the production, the assistant directors had tried to build rapport by helping him with some tasks, but after nearly being cussed out, they’d learned their lesson and stopped meddling. Now, the atmosphere in the director’s group was strange. Xu Zhen stayed with his two caretakers, while the others stuck with the production representatives. While it wasn’t complete avoidance, no one spoke more than necessary outside of work.
Yuan Bing, sitting beside Luo Ding, took a swig of hot milk and yawned. Over at the director’s group, another argument had broken out. Xu Zhen casually threw a cup to the ground, bringing the dispute to a sudden halt. The cleaning staff quietly came over to sweep up the shards.
“Look at that—so eerie,” Yuan Bing remarked.
Luo Ding was fiddling with his phone. Hearing this, he glanced up and chuckled, “Sister Yuan, you’re not very adaptable, huh?” After so many years in the industry, why still be surprised by this kind of thing?
Yuan Bing grew serious. “No, it’s not just that. Don’t you think Xu Zhen’s outbursts are getting more and more bizarre? Last time, when he was explaining a scene to me, I swear I didn’t understand a word of what he was saying. It was all over the place—totally incoherent.”
Luo Ding listened silently, not commenting. Recently, Xu Zhen had rarely spoken to him. He recalled an incident when, after using the restroom, he had exited to find Xu Zhen being wheeled down a corridor ahead of him. The caretaker pushed slowly, and since Luo Ding was in a hurry, he greeted them as he passed by. The look of sheer terror on Xu Zhen’s face was something he would never forget.
Xu Zhen was afraid of him—why, he didn’t know, but the absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on him.
These days, when they spoke, Xu Zhen’s eyes would dart nervously around, filled with guilt. It was baffling how he had reached such a state.
But Luo Ding had no interest in prying. As Yuan Bing looked at him expectantly for gossip, he merely shrugged helplessly and opened a text message. It contained only a short line: *”I’ve arrived. Where are you?”*
Luo Ding stood up with a screeching sound, startling Yuan Bing.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized while scanning for Wu Fangyuan, motioning for him to lead the way to the filming lot’s entrance. From afar, he saw that tall figure striding towards him, and his heart raced. With people all around, he suppressed the urge to rush up and hug him, instead smiling calmly as they met.
Duan Xiubo approached, his eyes smiling as he carried a plastic bag. The crew was surprised by his visit but hid their surprise well, greeting him respectfully as he passed. Duan Xiubo waved in acknowledgment.
When he stopped in front of Luo Ding, they stood less than half a meter apart, gazing at each other with warmth and tenderness in their eyes.
After a while, Duan Xiubo broke the silence. “You’ve lost weight.”
“Illusion,”
Luo Ding lightly smacked his arm, which Duan Xiubo took as an opportunity to pull him close, his arm settling around Luo Ding’s shoulder. Luo Ding struggled briefly, then gave up. The familiar embrace was something he had longed for too.
“How’s work?”
“Everything’s fine. How about your filming?”
“Everyone’s been really kind to me. Sister Yuan’s inside—want to go see her?”
Duan Xiubo gazed at him deeply. Luo Ding subtly nudged him, reminding him of all the people around.
Only then did Duan Xiubo nod. “Sure, it’s been a while since I last saw her. Wonder how she’s doing.”
On their way, familiar crew members who had previously worked with Duan Xiubo approached to chat, teasing Luo Ding about his relationship with Duan Xiubo.
“Wasn’t Duan at an event in S City last night? How is he in T City today?”
“Must’ve taken an early flight—couldn’t wait to visit the set.”
“Aww, they’re such a perfect match, can’t stand being apart for even a minute!” Everyone teased, “My partner doesn’t even do that!”
Duan Xiubo laughed heartily, though he kept his arm firmly around Luo Ding’s shoulder. His carefree demeanor reassured the teasing crowd that their jokes were just lighthearted banter. After all, close friendships like theirs weren’t uncommon in the industry. Female celebrities often showed affection with kisses, and it was those hiding something who tended to act distant in public. Guilt reveals itself in little ways.
Yuan Bing, half asleep after her milk, perked up when she saw Duan Xiubo approach. “Hey, Mr. Busy! It’s been over six months since we last spoke! What’s this, the sun rising in the west?”
She paused, noticing Duan Xiubo’s arm still wrapped around Luo Ding’s shoulder, and raised an eyebrow. “Can you two stop being so clingy? Are you deliberately trying to rub it in my face?”
Luo Ding had been feeling self-conscious from all the teasing, but her comment actually relaxed him. Everyone was clearly just joking. If he took it too seriously, he’d be the one killing the fun. He even leaned into Duan Xiubo’s waist and rested his head on his shoulder. Feeling Duan’s grip tighten slightly, Luo Ding burst into laughter.
More teasing erupted around them, with everyone commenting on their perfect chemistry. Yuan Bing, as the lone “single dog,” jokingly pretended to claw at Luo Ding, but before she could land a blow, Duan Xiubo caught her wrist.
The grip wasn’t strong, but it was enough to stop her. Yuan Bing blinked, surprised, as Duan Xiubo, looking helpless, ruffled Luo Ding’s hair, a smile on his face. Something clicked in her mind.
“Yuan Jie, Yuan Jie, don’t be mad,” Luo Ding teased, immediately apologizing and asking her to sit back down.
Yuan Bing watched him, her expression growing more complex. Luo Ding didn’t seem to notice, but when she glanced up at Duan Xiubo, their eyes met. He raised an eyebrow, wearing a smirk that seemed to say *I don’t care what you think.*
The group continued to joke and laugh. As it neared lunchtime, most people had finished their tasks and gathered around for a lighthearted chat. The tension from the director’s outbursts had made the crew unusually quiet lately, so this sudden bout of fun left everyone feeling refreshed. Soon enough, even the producers and assistant directors joined in, chatting with Duan Xiubo.
Keep me fueled with caffeine! Support me on Ko-fi! It helps a lot ! Thank you so much ♡(´･ω･)(･ω･`)♡
