Duan Xiubo refused to leave, Yuan Bing kept sneering. The tension between them lingered, though Luo Ding wasn’t sure what had caused it. In any case, under such an atmosphere, fully immersing himself in filming was impossible.
In the end, the kiss scene was shot using camera tricks. Since it wasn’t a key scene, as long as the actors put in some emotion and professionalism, the outcome satisfied the director.
While Luo Ding removed his makeup, Duan Xiubo handed him some face wash. As he turned on the faucet and replayed the filming in his mind, a realization dawned on him.
Using a towel to dry his face, Luo Ding asked hesitantly, “Do you think Sister Yuan figured it out?”
Duan Xiubo glanced at him, wondering how Luo Ding could be so slow. *Only now he realizes?*
Luo Ding felt a headache coming on. No wonder Yuan Bing had seemed irritable all day, though it wasn’t directed at him. The whole afternoon, she hadn’t even given Duan Xiubo a friendly look. Given that the two of them had always had a good relationship, and yesterday’s atmosphere was pleasant, today’s sudden change was puzzling.
Sighing, Luo Ding asked, “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Of course not!” Duan Xiubo was frustrated, like a parent accused of signing a bad grade on their child’s test. “You’re underestimating both her and me! Sister Yuan’s no fool—she’s sharp. She dragged me and lectured me for half the night. I barely got any sleep.”
“She lectured you?” Luo Ding became worried. “How did she react? Is she upset about us? I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal.”
Duan Xiubo’s expression darkened, his mood sour. After a few seconds, he stormed over and hugged Luo Ding tightly, gritting his teeth in frustration.
*This guy—does he have some kind of magnet for trouble?* Duan Xiubo felt exasperated. He couldn’t help but recall how many people were drawn to Luo Ding—first Emma, then Sophia. He suspected even Yuan Bing had more than just friendly feelings toward Luo Ding. And then there were Ji Jiahe and Tommy Lee, people Duan had carefully distanced from Luo Ding. Not to mention all the fans calling him “husband” or “son.” How many more would show up in the future? Could he even keep watch?
Looking at his reflection, Duan Xiubo saw a man in his thirties—still young, but no longer the fresh-faced twenty-something he once was. The six- or seven-year age gap between him and Luo Ding didn’t seem significant in modern society, but when you truly cared about someone, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to them.
Luo Ding was still young, only in his twenties. He had talent, good looks, and a bright future ahead of him. By comparison, Duan Xiubo felt inadequate at times.
Luo Ding, sensing Duan Xiubo’s emotional turbulence, stopped questioning him. It was clear that Duan wasn’t in a mood to discuss it further. Gently patting Duan’s back, Luo Ding spoke softly into his ear, offering comfort. Duan remained silent for a long time before finally responding, “She’s just going through menopause, saying some harsh things. I just let it go in one ear and out the other. Don’t worry about it.”
Luo Ding chuckled and nodded, agreeing to drop the subject. He could tell the tension between Yuan Bing and Duan Xiubo wasn’t too serious—more like a child’s spat. He wasn’t too concerned.
The next day, when Duan Xiubo wasn’t around, Luo Ding sought out Yuan Bing.
Though Yuan Bing’s anger seemed mostly directed at Duan Xiubo, she was still pleasant enough to Luo Ding. But when he mentioned inviting her to dinner with Duan, her face fell.
“Dinner? Are you trying to piss me off?” she scoffed.
Luo Ding, used to indirect conversations, sat down next to her and spoke gently, “Sister Yuan, I know what you’re worried about. But before I got together with him, I thought about all these things. We call you ‘Sister’ because we truly care about your opinion. I don’t have family, and Duan’s situation at home is complicated, so your opinion matters most to us.”
Yuan Bing fell silent. Duan Xiubo might be good with words when dealing with outsiders, but Luo Ding’s way of handling people close to him was far more effective. His soft-spoken sincerity doused her anger, leaving only concern for their uncertain future.
Feeling respected, Yuan Bing wasn’t one to push things too far. After thinking for a while, she asked, “He didn’t force you into this, did he?”
Realizing what she was worried about, Luo Ding laughed and shook his head. “No way. I’m a grown man. If I didn’t want to be with him, no one could force me.”
Seeing the trust and happiness in his smile, Yuan Bing’s last bit of concern faded. Though she felt a bit regretful—about what, she couldn’t quite say—she finally reached out and patted Luo Ding on the head.
“You two troublemakers. I don’t even care anymore. Duan Xiubo’s a difficult guy to deal with, but it seems like you’re the only one who can put up with him. If he ever screws up, don’t hesitate to kick him to the curb and find someone better.”
*****
The weather grew colder by the day, and Gu Yaxing was still in his office polishing the Best Singer trophy he had won at the year-end music festival. Christmas had passed, and soon it would be the New Year.
Crowds filled the streets, with red “Fu” (good fortune) and “Xi” (happiness) characters adorning shopfronts everywhere. New Year was approaching.
In a light gray down jacket, jeans, sneakers, and a long gray scarf, Luo Ding stood in the crowd. Despite his attempts to stay inconspicuous, his presence stood out effortlessly.
The scarf was a gift from a fan, given to him during a casual encounter. The shy girl had stuffed it into his hands before quickly running off. She even tripped, but before Luo Ding could help her, she scrambled to her feet and dashed away, leaving him speechless for a long time. After confirming the scarf was safe, he started wearing it every day. The fan had put great care into making it, with soft gray wool woven to perfection. The edges had intricate embroidered patterns, with a silver thread tracing his signature.
It was warm and comforting to wear.
Yaxing Studio had a strict policy of not accepting gifts, so fans could only give them during chance encounters or events.
A cold wind blew, making Luo Ding shrink his neck into the scarf as he noticed people staring at him. He pulled the brim of his hat lower.
They were in B City for an event. Duan Xiubo had complained about being hungry, and with two hours before the event, he insisted on going out to get spicy hot pot.
They could have sent an assistant, but Duan Xiubo dragged Luo Ding along, clearly wanting some alone time.
Behind him, the shop door opened, and the strong smell of spices filled the air. A wave of heat followed Duan Xiubo out of the shop. Since they couldn’t eat inside—too many people, too risky if they were recognized—they found a corner outside to enjoy their food.
Holding a deep plastic cup, Duan handed Luo Ding a skewer with fish balls nestled in tofu, seaweed, and translucent noodles. The broth was a bright red, flecked with chili flakes.
As they settled into a quiet corner, Duan Xiubo looked up at the gloomy sky and smiled, adjusting his scarf to reveal his grinning face. “Here, try this fish ball. It’s the best.”
“I can’t eat spicy food,” Luo Ding hesitated. “I’ve got a new song coming out in April…”
“It’s only the end of January! You’ve got months. Northern chili isn’t too spicy—it’s all about the flavor.”
Reluctantly, Luo Ding took a bite. The fish ball’s chewy skin gave way to tender, flavorful meat. The warm broth flowed down his throat, filling his stomach with a comforting heat.
“Delicious!”
“Right?” Duan Xiubo beamed. “Every time I come here for a premiere, I have to get some. The shop’s been here for over twenty years, and they make everything fresh.”
Just as they were enjoying their meal, a hesitant voice behind them interrupted. “Excuse me… Are you…?”
Turning around, Duan Xiubo, still holding a fish ball near Luo Ding’s mouth, saw four or five stylish girls holding hands and looking their way. The moment they recognized them, they squealed in excitement.
“It’s really you!!!”
“AAAAAHHHHH!!!!”
Duan Xiubo quickly shushed them, but it was too late. They were near a cinema, and the commotion immediately drew a crowd. Hearing footsteps approaching, Luo Ding and Duan exchanged a glance and knew they had to run.
Grabbing the spicy hot pot and making sure their scarves were secure, they bolted.
The girls, realizing their mistake, stood frozen for a moment before instinctively giving chase.
Their excitement spread, and soon a group of onlookers followed suit, turning the scene into a chase.
Having been in similar situations before, Duan and Luo Ding expertly evaded the crowd, darting around the cinema before slipping through a staff entrance. Once safely inside, they peeked through a small window. Thankfully, their pursuers were nowhere to be seen.
“HAHAHAHAHA!” Both burst into laughter, unable to stop.
“The fish balls are cold,” Duan Xiubo sighed, touching the now lukewarm broth. “You only had one. Cold fish balls aren’t as good as hot ones.”
“I’ll have Fang Yuan buy more later,” Luo Ding reassured him, pointing outside. “Look, it’s snowing.”
Sure enough, soft snowflakes had begun to fall, barely noticeable at first. But now, as they stood still, they could see the delicate flakes dancing in the air.
Through the small gap in the iron gate, the two watched the snowfall for a while. Luo Ding suddenly said, “When we were running to the main gate, I think I saw someone familiar.”
“Oh?” Duan Xiubo didn’t seem interested, more focused on his own thoughts. He turned to look at Luo Ding, his eyes shining. “Happy New Year. You’re twenty-five now.”
“Happy New Year,” Luo Ding laughed. “Is twenty-five special?”
Duan Xiubo’s eyes twinkled like crystals in the dim light. “Five more years.”
Five more years? Luo Ding didn’t quite understand, and no matter how he pressed, Duan Xiubo refused to explain. It wasn’t until the premiere started that Luo Ding remembered a promise he had made to Duan in a moment of whimsy.
He turned to look at Duan. The lights from the stage illuminated Duan’s face, softening his rugged features.
*If we can make it to thirty together…*
Luo Ding had forgotten when it had happened, but somewhere along the way, his fears about how long their relationship would last had disappeared.
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