Suppressing his excitement, Qin Sizheng followed Lu Xianqing into the elevator.
“Wait!” As the doors were closing, a voice called urgently. “Wait for us!”
Qin Sizheng quickly reached out to hold the elevator door. Yao Jinwei’s assistant was carrying a mountain of things, almost buried under them.
Seeing the people in the elevator, she straightened instinctively. “F-Fourth Brother, Teacher Qin.”
Qin Sizheng nodded. Lu Xianqing pulled his hand back slightly, moving him aside. “Careful, it’s risky to reach? Elevator’s been running for a minute?”
The assistant obediently planted her feet to hold the door. Over a minute later, Yao Jinwei finally stepped in slowly, frowning, and scolded: “Don’t dirty my coat! Do you know how much it cost me to order this from London? Handmade, one-of-a-kind, meant for Sister Wenli.”
The assistant repeatedly smiled and apologized: “It’s clean. Holding it carefully.”
Yao Jinwei let out a cold snort. Then she looked at the elevator occupants and froze, instantly transforming into a flirtatious smile, tossing her long hair to stir a fragrant breeze.
“Fourth Brother, what a coincidence.”
Lu Xianqing said, “I already went upstairs when no one was holding the elevator.”
Pretending not to notice his cold tone, she moved in and stood naturally beside him, fanning herself lightly. “It was so hot during the day, now so cold at night. The hotel’s environment isn’t great. Mosquitoes woke me up last night, and I don’t use mosquito coils well.”
Lu Xianqing: “Mosquitoes?”
Yao Jinwei frowned. “Of course. I’m still itchy from the bites.”
Lu Xianqing looked at Qin Sizheng: “Any in your room?”
Qin Sizheng nodded. “Yes, but Chen Qiu and I aren’t allergic to mosquito repellents. We asked the front desk for liquid coils last night. It’s fine. Sister Yao can try them too—they smell nice.”
Yao Jinwei smiled. “No, I can’t stand that smell. Thanks for the recommendation.”
Qin Sizheng thought only his room had mosquitoes. Surprised they were everywhere, he quickly asked Lu Xianqing, “Mosquitoes in your room too? Got bitten?”
Lu Xianqing stayed in the top-floor suite—besides him and Anning, not even a breath of air disturbed it. He lowered his eyes and nodded, “Yes, got bitten a lot.”
Qin Sizheng’s heart ached. “I’ve got two mosquito repellents in my room. I’ll have Changfeng bring one to you later.”
Lu Xianqing thought to himself that this kid was ridiculously easy to fool.
He did not respond for a moment, and Qin Sizheng immediately grew nervous, worried that he also disliked the awful smell of mosquito repellent. He hurriedly added, “I can have Changfeng ask if they have an unscented kind?”
Lu Xianqing said, “It’s fine. I don’t mind the scent. Just get the same kind you use.”
Qin Sizheng let out a breath of relief. “Okay.”
Yao Jinwei’s expression shifted slightly, her teeth pressing together.
The two of them chatted as if no one else were around. The little assistant kept sneaking glances sideways, not daring to be too obvious, secretly squealing over “Qingshan Has Thoughts” in her heart.
She had lurked in the fan forums before, looping through those videos until she practically died from sweetness.
Qin Sizheng looked even better in person than on camera. And though he and Lu Xianqing were only casually talking, their interaction was sweeter than any edited compilation. The corners of her mouth curved up without her noticing.
Yao Jinwei watched the changing floor numbers and felt that something was off. Only when the elevator doors opened did she react. “Sizheng, why didn’t you get off downstairs? Aren’t you staying on the ninth floor?”
Lu Xianqing said, “How many times are you planning to block my elevator door?”
Yao Jinwei hurriedly replied, “No, no. See you tomorrow, Fourth Brother.”
The elevator doors closed again.
Yao Jinwei’s expression completely collapsed. The assistant timidly followed behind her and, not paying attention, bumped into her back, nearly knocking her over. Yao Jinwei swung around and slapped her across the face. “Are you blind?”
The assistant’s cheek immediately swelled. “I’m sorry, Sister Yao, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t see you.”
“I’m standing right here and you didn’t see me? Am I invisible to you? Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Yao Jinwei vented all the frustration she had swallowed in the elevator onto the assistant.
“I’m sorry, Sister Yao. I’ll be more careful next time.” The assistant kept apologizing. Half her face had gone numb, and the things in her arms were about to slip. Gritting her teeth, she struggled to lift her aching arms and held everything tight, not daring to drop anything.
Yao Jinwei strode ahead. The assistant had no free hands to open the door and said softly, “Sister Yao, could you open the door yourself? I don’t have any hands free.”
In rare generosity, Yao Jinwei opened it herself. Seeing the assistant’s meek appearance, an idea suddenly formed in her mind. “Come here. I need to tell you something. Tomorrow, order a batch of mango pomelo sago and treat the entire crew.”
“Everyone? Why?” the assistant asked in confusion.
Since when was Yao Jinwei so generous? She was not short on money, but she had always been arrogant, expecting the crew to fawn over her. There was no way she would lower herself to treat the whole production.
“I told you to do it, so do it! Why so many questions?” Yao Jinwei shot her a look. “What are you still standing there for? Planning to sleep in my room?”
“I’m leaving right now.” The assistant carefully set everything down and hurried out.
Qin Sizheng followed Lu Xianqing up to the top floor. Compared to the floors below, this place was like heaven and earth.
A full wall of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the entire city, lights scattered below like a flowing galaxy fallen to earth.
There was a massive projection screen, a half-wall wine cabinet, even a walk-in closet and a kitchen. By the window stood a massage chair with a thick blanket draped over it, proof that someone had once lain there.
Did Lu Xianqing use it to massage himself after filming, when he was exhausted?
He knew how to give massages too. If Lu Xianqing was ever that tired, he could massage him himself. He was certain it would feel much better than some cold, lifeless machine.
“What are you thinking about? Want to go try it?” Lu Xianqing saw him spacing out and lightly smacked the back of his head.
Qin Sizheng snapped back to attention and hurriedly shook his head. “No, I was just looking around.” At the same time, he quietly scolded himself. He had already started thinking about that kind of thing.
He let out a couple of soft breaths, trying to suppress the thoughts in his heart. But his mind was like a spring—the more he pushed it down, the harder it bounced back. He could not help thinking how beautiful Lu Xianqing’s muscles were. If only he could touch them.
Just once. He promised he would not touch more than that.
“Stop daydreaming. Come on, I’ll show you around.” Lu Xianqing walked further inside.
Qin Sizheng patted his face to calm himself, took several steadying breaths, and followed.
“Can the kitchen here be used too?” Qin Sizheng asked.
Lu Xianqing hummed. “What? Hands itching to cook for me?”
Qin Sizheng had just been about to nod when Lu Xianqing smiled. “Even if you want to, I won’t allow it. After filming all day and being that exhausted, there’s no way I’d let you cook for me. We’ll talk about it when you’re free.”
“Oh.”
Lu Xianqing walked over to the wine cabinet, picked out a bottle, then took a few ice cubes from the refrigerator and dropped them into a glass. Amber liquid poured in. He lifted the glass and gave it a swirl, the ice clinking crisply against the sides.
“Want a little?” he asked.
Qin Sizheng shook his head quickly. “No. You drink.”
He firmly remembered that he had terrible drinking habits. The last time he got drunk, he had injured Lu Xianqing. That memory still stuck in his throat. He would never bear to hurt him again. Besides, they were filming now. If he injured him, it would delay the entire production.
Lu Xianqing chuckled softly. “All right. I’ll drink alone.”
Just then, there was a knock at the door. A few seconds later, An Ning came in carrying two large bags. She set them on the table and panted heavily. “I’m exhausted. I waited forever for the elevator.”
“An Ning-jie,” Qin Sizheng greeted her.
An Ning clasped her hands together by the side of her head, her eyes full of exaggerated delight. “Ah, my treasure, don’t look at me like that. I’ll fall for you.”
Qin Sizheng pressed his lips together in a smile. “Just don’t act on it. I only want to be your good brother.”
An Ning clutched her chest. “My heart’s shattered again.”
Qin Sizheng’s eyes curved with laughter. He pulled a piece of candy from his pocket and slipped it into her hand, whispering, “Don’t let Fourth Brother see. Eat it quick.”
An Ning immediately hid it. Taking advantage of the moment, she whispered back, “Do you know how many Little Qin Strings would come assassinate me for that move of yours? But for you, my treasure, I’d die willingly.”
Clack.
Lu Xianqing set his glass down and gave her a chilly smile. “Go on. Die for me right now. Let me see.”
An Ning rolled her eyes. “What a ruthless man. Telling your diligent, overworked assistant to go die on the spot. Men are trash. Spit.”
Lu Xianqing scoffed and poured himself another glass. An Ning lunged over and snatched the bottle away. “Father, that is enough. One glass is plenty. Do not get greedy, or my life will be over.”
“Mm.” Lu Xianqing drained the glass in one swallow and left it on the table.
Qin Sizheng frowned slightly. He had wanted to say it last time—why did Lu Xianqing always finish his drink in one go?
Was he not worried about his health?
Lu Xianqing’s mental state had been poor. In the past, he relied entirely on alcohol to fall asleep. Lately it had improved a little, even making Shen Qing feel puzzled. But he had been a heavy drinker for years; quitting all at once was impossible. He still needed a little every day.
He Xing had ordered An Ning to keep strict control—one extra glass meant one day’s pay docked. She was terrified she would end up pawning her pants to make up the loss, so she begged this ancestor to drink less.
Aside from the beginning, when Lu Xianqing could not restrain himself and cost her half a month’s salary, these past few days had been much better. One glass a day. No more.
An Ning lifted the bottle, then paused. Something felt off. “How much did you drink today?”
Lu Xianqing said blandly, “One glass. Ask Yan Yan.”
An Ning’s head snapped around, eyes blazing at Qin Sizheng. “You tell me. How much did he drink?”
Qin Sizheng was about to say two glasses when he heard a light cough. He turned to look at Lu Xianqing and saw him smiling innocently. Afraid An Ning would start nagging again, he clenched his teeth and said, “Mm. Just one.”
An Ning bared her teeth at the two of them. “You just keep protecting him! Do you think I am blind? That was clearly more than one glass! You have gone bad, Teacher Qin, lying to me with him. I hereby announce—”
Qin Sizheng waited for the rest.
An Ning clutched her chest, pointed at him with her other hand, and declared with dramatic anguish, “I am unfollowing you for three minutes to express my anger!”
Lu Xianqing scoffed. “Three minutes and you dare say it out loud? Are you not embarrassed?”
Qin Sizheng could not bear to deceive her and was just about to confess when Lu Xianqing grabbed his wrist. Cool fingertips pressed against the bone, snapping him back to attention.
“Come on. Wash your hands and eat. I will run lines with you later.”
Qin Sizheng stared blankly at the hand wrapped around his wrist as he was led toward the bathroom. He did not pull away. Clearly, Lu Xianqing had dragged him off to escape An Ning’s nagging, yet he felt as though they were holding hands.
Lu Xianqing’s fingers were beautiful—no scars, no thickened joints. A thin layer of skin stretched over long, distinct bones, with only a faint callus on the pads of his fingers. Resting against Qin Sizheng’s wrist, they made him feel as though his pulse had sunk a little deeper.
If it slid just a bit lower, they would be holding hands.
“What? Want me to wash them for you?”
“Huh?” Qin Sizheng looked up. Lu Xianqing had already turned on the faucet. Leaning against the sink with a smile, he watched him. “Did you not get enough pampering on that variety show? Standing there like that—are you planning to have me wash them for you?”