Qin Sizheng didn’t know what he meant and just nodded.
“Alright.”
What did “alright” mean? Was that permission to leave? Qin Sizheng started to walk past him, but Lu Xianqing suddenly reached out and grabbed his wrist: “Just leaving?”
“Ah? You still have something to do?”
“Yes.” Lu Xianqing nodded. Qin Sizheng straightened, unsure what he was signaling. Seeing a slight smile at the corner of his eyes, a little tension ran through him. Was he going to hit him?
“I just helped you, right?”
Qin Sizheng cautiously nodded.
“Then shouldn’t you thank me?”
Wait—weren’t favors supposed to be given without expecting anything in return? Why did he already want repayment? Qin Sizheng muttered quietly: “Okay, tell me how, I’ll do it.”
Lu Xianqing smiled. “You promised not to back out, right?”
Qin Sizheng instantly felt uneasy: “Nothing excessive!”
Lu Xianqing tilted his head, his gaze appraising, making the boy nervous. Jiang Xi, aware of the entertainment world’s messiness, knew of their dynamic; Xu Zhi had even asked him before.
Qin Sizheng himself had no feelings for Fourth Brother, but it was clear that Lu Xianqing was teasing him—and in showbiz, people sometimes exploited young stars.
“Whatever you want, Emperor Lu, we can have Xu handle it,” Jiang Xi quickly said, cautiously watching Lu Xianqing, adding: “Qin will report back to Xu afterward.”
Lu Xianqing glanced at him. “Xu Zhi?”
Jiang Xi nodded quickly. “Yes, yes. You helped Qin, so we’ll manage everything properly, make sure he thanks you.”
“So you mean…” Lu Xianqing reached out, lifting Qin Sizheng’s chin, his eyes cold and dangerous. “You’re not going to thank me personally?”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that!” Qin Sizheng gestured for Jiang Xi to step aside, then told Lu Xianqing: “Then tell me how to thank you, I’ll do it myself.”
Lu Xianqing withdrew his hand and said lightly: “It’s my birthday today. You know this industry has too many vultures—step outside and dozens of cameras will snap, rumors of dating or spending the night with someone spread immediately.”
“Because in this industry, his status is pretty solid, and he’s surrounded by people flattering him. From the outside, it looks lively.”
“But once he goes out, it’s mostly drinking, entertaining a bunch of kids, and he can’t even have a proper meal. It’s noisy, chaotic, and his stomach hurts all the way through the night with no one around. He has to drink cold water to take medicine. The cold water hurts his head, the medicine barely works, and his stomach is twisted in discomfort. The next day, he has to get up early to film, and sometimes he even has to work in scorching heat or freezing cold water.”
Lu Xianqing lowered his gaze. His face was nearly pale, and the loneliness etched in his eyes and the corners of his mouth was painfully stark.
“His position is alright, but everyone tries to force him to drink—co-actors, directors, producers—all of them. Stomach bleeding is trivial, alcohol poisoning isn’t unheard of. It’s like twisting him into a dough twist.”
Qin Sizheng’s scalp tingled just imagining it. Drinking cold water on an upset stomach—and being forced to down it all at once—how could anyone survive that?
He pictured Lu Xianqing with severe neurasthenia and night blindness. At midnight, he probably couldn’t even find a lamp, and when it hurt that much, he couldn’t boil water, so he had to settle for whatever cold water was nearby, with no one to take care of him.
He had endured such hardships year after year. Even on his birthday, he’d be surrounded by people forcing him to drink. Qin Sizheng’s heart ached.
He’d never had a proper birthday. He didn’t even know the exact day he was born. At the orphanage, birthdays were celebrated once a year for everyone together. Cake was scarce, and even a single candy was a treat.
Later, when he went to compete, his earnings weren’t enough to give each of the younger kids a proper birthday. He would buy extra cheap candies to make sure every child got one. Life had been hard; he had no friends and no real celebration. If he wasn’t competing, he’d help the caretakers at the orphanage, play with the kids, teach them boxing. He never endured being forced to drink.
He couldn’t imagine the feeling or the scene. But Lu Xianqing, already suffering from neurasthenia and night blindness, forced to drink alcohol, having to hide his discomfort behind a smile, made Qin Sizheng’s heart ache.
Seeing the rules of the industry—rules everyone had to follow—meant even someone of Lu Xianqing’s high status couldn’t have a proper birthday. Everyone had their misfortunes.
Qin Sizheng held back his worry. “Then I’ll prepare a gift for you. What would you like?”
Lu Xianqing looked at him, suppressing the tingling in his fingers and the surge of possessive desire in his chest. He held back the words, “I want you,” lowered his lashes, and said softly, “From that last variety show, the meal you cooked—I’d like to taste it again. Is that alright?”
Qin Sizheng’s heart skipped a beat. Before he could react, Lu Xianqing grabbed his hand. His black eyes were full of fragile pleading. “I want a bowl of noodles—longevity noodles.”
The warmth at his fingertips was faint, but Qin Sizheng felt his heart burn. His heart thumped wildly; instinctively, he tried to pull back.
“You don’t want to? Then forget it.”
Lu Xianqing laughed self-deprecatingly and slowly released the empty hand, clenching it slightly as he masked the loneliness in his gaze. “Whether I live long or not, a bowl of noodles won’t decide that.” He added a faintly sorrowful smile. “Alright, let’s go home. Your assistant’s waiting outside; I’m leaving too.”
Seeing the loneliness and disappointment in Lu Xianqing’s eyes as he turned, Qin Sizheng felt his heart squeeze painfully. All this time, he had been helping and looking after him—but he hadn’t even made him a single bowl of noodles. Tonight, Lu Xianqing would return to a cold, dark home, or face a crowd forcing him to drink.
Drunk, brought home by An Ning, he would see nothing, and being led away, he might not even be able to protect himself. With his night blindness, he couldn’t fight back.
Qin Sizheng clenched his fists. “Fourth Brother!”
Lu Xianqing’s lips twitched in a faint smile. He had only walked four steps when he heard the trembling voice. He thought Qin Sizheng was going to the door, trying to give him a pitiful look—his performance hadn’t even begun.
This child… unyielding.
He turned back, revealing the faint loneliness that came through despite all his effort to mask it, and smiled: “Hmm? What is it?”
Qin Sizheng saw through the pretense of strength, recognizing that his pride wouldn’t allow him to show weakness. As the respected Fourth Brother, his name weighed on him, preventing him from expressing his true feelings or vulnerability.
Qin Sizheng’s heart ached even more. Taking a deep breath, he gritted his teeth: “I’ll make it for you!”
Suppressing the smile on his lips, Lu Xianqing asked softly after a pause, “Is that convenient? Don’t force yourself. I can have An Ning prepare it. It’s not that bad—money can buy anything. Ten bowls are fine too.”
Hearing him say this made Qin Sizheng even more determined. He hurried over and grabbed his hand. “It’s convenient! I can make it for you anytime—it’s really no trouble!”
Lu Xianqing opened his mouth to speak, but Qin Sizheng anticipated refusal and interrupted: “I’ll call Xu! Just wait a moment!” He turned aside to make the call.
Xu Zhi, filming with two other young idols, was a bit noisy. He covered one ear with the phone but still couldn’t hear well, gesturing for Qin Sizheng to step outside.
“What’s the plan? I couldn’t hear clearly before.”
Xu Zhi had repeatedly warned him to stay away from Lu Xianqing. Later, seeing that he seemed genuinely serious about his career, Xu had relaxed a little and even thought maybe this could help Qin Sizheng break the ice with Lu Xianqing for future leverage.
Qin Sizheng didn’t really want to play that way. “Today is You Si’s birthday. I want to celebrate a little. There’s nothing to film this afternoon or evening. Can I go over?”
Xu Zhi knew You Si and was cautious, fearing Qin Sizheng would be exposed to the wrong crowd. “Where are you going to celebrate? Don’t go to any shady bars. You’re different from him—he can fool around, no one cares. If you get photographed, your career could be ruined forever.”
Qin Sizheng didn’t know what kind of bars he meant, but he guessed they weren’t good. He quickly said, “I won’t go there. Just to You Si’s home. I’ll be back soon.”
Lu Xianqing’s hearing was excellent—probably honed by years of night blindness—and every word Qin Sizheng said reached him perfectly. He couldn’t help but smile faintly. Being “betrayed” and yet having to provide cover for someone else—how amusing.
He didn’t yet know what might happen if Qin Sizheng went to his house. The boy would rather lie to Xu Zhi than tell the truth—really… Lu Xianqing’s gaze darkened slightly.
In his mind, was going to his house harder to admit than going to “that kind of place”? He seemed so determined that no one else should know.
Xu Zhi stayed quiet for a moment after hearing him, then said earnestly, “Sizheng, you know I’ve had high hopes for you. When I found you back then, I said you’d become popular. I signed a ten-year contract with you, and even when you were willful, I never gave up. You can’t disappoint me!”
“I won’t.”
Seeing him obedient and well-behaved, Xu Zhi relaxed. The boy hadn’t caused trouble recently, hadn’t posted reckless things online, and the apology to Wen Li had been accepted.
“Wen Li agreed to forgive you. She’s an actress worthy of her title, generous. She’ll post a Weibo saying it’s no big deal. If you run into her, just greet her, and that’s the end of it.” Xu Zhi rambled on, then asked about the contract and mentioned Qin Sizheng trending again due to skiing.
“Trending again?” Qin Sizheng hadn’t checked. Even though it happened frequently, he still couldn’t get used to it—he dreaded being scolded again! Who likes being scolded?
Xu Zhi quickly reassured him, “Don’t worry, this is good. During skiing, the staff at the resort filmed a video of you and posted it online. Many people thought you were cool, climbing walls and all. Others said they wanted to meet you by chance. It’s a good way to gain attention; you can post similar videos yourself in the future.”
Qin Sizheng finally relaxed, squinting slightly in a small smile. No scolding this time—good.
Lu Xianqing watched the soft side of his profile, the faint dimples when he smiled. The hand holding the phone was clean now, but in his eyes, traces of blood seemed to linger.
During the audition earlier, he had watched the boy at the door for a long time. He had expected that he couldn’t act and would falter, crying helplessly, possibly losing composure. Yet Qin Sizheng had performed without pretense, presenting pure authenticity.
Lu Xianqing had been stunned. With one hand pressed against the door, he quietly watched Qin Sizheng raise the flag. When his foot slipped on it, it was clearly a mistake, but it turned into a brilliant, instinctive move.
He waved the bloodied red-tasselled spear sharply—truly like a young general. Slowly, he sank to his knees, breathing heavily, conveying raw frustration and helplessness with a hoarse voice that reflected his inexperience.
The final burst—his last moment—when he gripped the flag, his hands bulged with veins. From the doorway, you couldn’t see the tremor, but the heroism and grief were palpable. No wonder he had personally revised the script.
This boy deserved thanks. Personally. For everything.
Qin Sizheng finally finished the call. He wasn’t sure how he’d convinced Xu Zhi, but he was allowed to go out alone.
“Fourth Brother, when would you like to eat?”
“Now.” Lu Xianqing’s fingers twitched, as if a venomous spider had crawled along them, weaving tight webs around his desire, constricting him, suffocating him, demanding release.
Qin Sizheng, unaware, said, “Then let’s go. I’ll tell Jiang Xi.”
Outside the studio, Jiang Xi was waiting, craning his neck inside as if worried they might fight. Seeing Qin Sizheng exit, he immediately asked, “Qin Ge, are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Tonight, I’m going to You Si’s to celebrate his birthday. You don’t need to come, just head home.”
“Should I escort you?”
“No, Fourth Brother is on the way. I’ll take his car. You get home early and rest—you’ve worked hard the past two days.” Qin Sizheng’s words weren’t harsh, but Jiang Xi could read between the lines. He nodded obediently.
“Alright, I’ll go first. Call me if anything happens!”
Qin Sizheng nodded. “Okay.”
Lu Xianqing’s car was parked at the lot. When he opened the door to get in, Qin Sizheng froze. “You’re driving yourself? No driver?”
“Yes. It’s a hassle to mobilize everyone for just a trial makeup.” Lu Xianqing replied matter-of-factly, not showing any guilt for having An Ning temporarily leave.
Qin Sizheng thought: he really is good—never bossy like Jiang Xi said, not surrounded by ten assistants giving orders. He’s amazing yet so down-to-earth. Truly a good person.
“Don’t trust my driving?” Lu Xianqing tilted his head, looking through the window at the boy lingering outside, chuckling softly.
“No!” Qin Sizheng quickly opened the door and slid into the passenger seat. Remembering his night blindness, he hurried, “Let’s go quickly before it gets dark.”
Lu Xianqing smiled lightly at his urgency.
He started the car and drove steadily along the avenue. The doors auto-locked, turning the vehicle into a “cage,” enclosing the boy inside.
Qin Sizheng, suddenly aware, repeated nervously: “You’re driving yourself? What about Sister An Ning? Let’s go quickly before it gets dark.”
Lu Xianqing, suffering severe neurasthenia, found even small noises unbearable. He lived in a relatively quiet, secluded half-mountain area with only a few neighbors.
The courtyard was large but barren, piled with oddly shaped stones, and a broken water jar covered in moss. Rusted iron gates, a house entwined with green vines, tiny white flowers blooming, filling the air with a faint fragrance.
Despite this, the place looked desolate. One wouldn’t think anyone lived there. Qin Sizheng felt an inexplicable chill—as if entering a vampire’s castle, waiting for some monstrous creature to leap out and grab him by the neck.
He instinctively stepped back, bumping into Lu Xianqing, who had just parked the car. Lu Xianqing steadied him by the waist. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Qin Sizheng couldn’t help stealing a few more glances. Afraid Lu Xianqing would notice, he looked away toward the distance. The neighboring house was beautifully done—roses climbing the walls and fences, a few birds chirping, and a dog lying in the yard, belly-up in the sun. It all felt warm and comfortable.
“That’s Xu Junhan’s house,” Lu Xianqing said.
“You’re neighbors with Senior Xu?” Qin Sizheng asked, surprised. Lu Xianqing’s eyes flickered with faint amusement. He snorted lightly. “Oh? Planning to drop by? Too bad, he’s probably not home—he went to the hospital for a follow-up. The leg you helped him with might still be weak.”
Qin Sizheng had wanted to visit but worried people would think he was seeking attention, so he hadn’t been sure how serious the injury was. Hearing this, he became concerned. “Really? Senior Xu’s injury shouldn’t be that serious… but if… would it affect his career?”
Lu Xianqing’s expression darkened, and his tone sharpened. “I don’t know.”
Qin Sizheng couldn’t help but glance again, murmuring, “I just hope there are no lasting effects. Senior Xu is such a good person.”
Lu Xianqing snorted coldly. “He likes eating garlic, snails in spicy soup, and durian—so what? That makes him a good person?”
Qin Sizheng didn’t understand the sudden criticism. His gaze was caught by a supercar that abruptly stopped at the entrance.
The car was painted a flashy purple. Its roof extended like a Transformer. A strikingly handsome man leaned slightly, looking over and grinning. “Yo, bringing it back to eat, huh?”
Lu Xianqing shot Ming Fei a sharp glance. “Go away.”
“What’s the technique this time? Let me learn, so I can show the kids in our village a textbook example—practical application.” Ming Fei smirked, flicking his sunglasses with a subtle, elegant, innuendo-laden charm.
Lu Xianqing scoffed. “If all your village’s youth are like you, does your village even have a future?”
Ming Fei rested his chin on his hand, smiling. “Prosperity is going smoothly, thanks to the exemplary village secretary—you let me be a hands-off village head. But one thing: even the donkeys in the production team wouldn’t rest as long as you. Resting a whole year? They’d be terrified.”
Lu Xianqing countered, “And yet your donkeys wouldn’t work this hard—switching shifts, polishing millstones monthly. New land—don’t worry about ruining the plow?”
Ming Fei didn’t take offense. He grinned, volleying back. “Your plow’s unopened. When it hits the field, I’ll set off fifty thousand firecrackers to celebrate. Even the donkeys can come watch—village secretary making progress.”
Qin Sizheng didn’t know who Ming Fei was—he’d been out of the industry too long—but the exchange seemed off. He frowned and whispered, “Fourth Brother, he’s so annoying.”
Lu Xianqing laughed softly. “Go on, drag him down and give him a good beating. My responsibility if he survives.”
Qin Sizheng, taken aback, asked, “And if he doesn’t die?”
Ming Fei blinked.
Lu Xianqing likely didn’t expect Qin Sizheng to respond so literally. He reached out, ruffling his hair. “Even if he doesn’t die, still counts as mine.”
Qin Sizheng nodded, seriously considering rolling up his sleeves. Ming Fei looked stunned—were these really humans? Surely no reproductive issues from this, right?
“I’m busy. Leaving now.” Ming Fei donned his sunglasses and floored the accelerator. The supercar roared off like a plane.
Qin Sizheng, slowly realizing, thought: if the left house belongs to Xu Junhan, then that person just now…
Lu Xianqing answered for him: “Ming Fei is my boss.”
Qin Sizheng froze. He didn’t know who Ming Fei was, but he understood the weight of Lu Xianqing’s agency in the industry. That guy had just threatened to beat him up.
Lu Xianqing walked ahead to the door, using his fingerprint to unlock it. Seeing Qin Sizheng lagging, he called out, “Come on.”
Qin Sizheng hurried after him.
“No one’s here except An Ning and He Xing. Everyone else is new, clean,” Lu Xianqing said, handing him a pair of slippers. He changed into his usual worn pair.
Qin Sizheng quickly swapped shoes. The cat, likely alerted by the noise, saw a stranger and pounced. Since being brought home by Lu Xianqing, the cat had only seen An Ning and He Xing and was somewhat spoiled—full of hostility toward Qin Sizheng.
“Ah!” Qin Sizheng stumbled back into Lu Xianqing, instinctively raising his hands to protect himself, nearly getting scratched.
“Yan Yan!”