After finishing dinner, he still had no intention of leaving, switching between scripts and lines, delaying until nightfall.
Qin Sizheng finally couldn’t hold it. “Fourth Brother, it’s late—”
Lu Xianqing: “I have night blindness. You’re not kicking me out now, are you?”
Qin Sizheng thought for a moment. “I’ll ask Changfeng if they can set up a temporary bed or something.”
Lu Xianqing leaned down. “Ah Jing, you want Uncle Ding to sleep on a cot?”
Qin Sizheng blinked, recalling the two previous bed scenes they had filmed, his mouth suddenly dry. He still remembered the glimpse he caught of Lu Xianqing—intimidating, enormous, and overwhelming.
“…Then I’ll sleep on the cot.”
Lu Xianqing pressed him back by the shoulders. “Just kidding. A patient can’t sleep there. Since your old dad loves you, I’ll make this sacrifice.”
Qin Sizheng looked at Lu Xianqing, cramped on the cot, a pang of sweetness in his chest. He’s going to such lengths for me… he must really like me, right?
He said “old dad loves you,” and Qin Sizheng silently removed the three words “old dad” in his mind, turning it into “who lets me love you.”
He thought this over and slowly closed his eyes.
Lu Xianqing heard his breathing even out, softly called, “Yanyan,” but there was no response.
He tilted his head to look at the hospital ceiling, smelling the faint sterile scent of the place, his heart growing restless.
Qin Sizheng lay nearby, so unguarded in his sleep.
Lu Xianqing struggled to stay calm, even his fingers twitching to leave his own body and seek out the boy.
Reason told him to wait a little longer, until the boy slept more deeply.
He bided his time, waiting until Qin Sizheng was fully asleep before moving close, lowering his head to softly press his lips to the boy’s, tracing gently, careful not to wake him.
He gently lifted the boy’s hospital gown, fingertips lingering on spots he had pierced before, feeling them harden from soft.
“Yanyan.”
“My Yanyan.”
“You have no idea how much effort it takes to restrain myself while filming every day. I want to cover you, inside and out, with my scent, like Ding Chenhai did.”
Lu Xianqing used his tongue, voice, and fingers on him. The boy seemed to feel it, furrowing his brows slightly and breathing sharply, involuntarily opening his mouth.
Lu Xianqing found the opportunity to explore, circling and teasing that delicate place, greedily tasting the natural fluids, tending to every inch, not missing even his ears.
Every part was treasured, traced reverently from fingertip to root.
He felt like a profane, sinful demon, the guilt only intensifying his excitement. “You know? I record what you say to me. After work, back at the hotel, I listen to your voice as I fall asleep.”
“I place my thorns in your hands, let your voice smooth out all the edges, let it release for you, but each time I finish, I feel it grows bigger, harder to control.”
“My Yanyan.”
The next morning, Qin Sizheng woke feeling uneasy. After shaking off the daze, he remembered the vivid dream he’d had and glanced at the fold-out cot nervously.
Luckily, the protagonist hadn’t woken up.
This dream had been wilder than the one at Lu Xianqing’s home. Beyond being licked inch by inch, he had dreamed the man’s fingers reached… there.
He couldn’t see the man’s face, but the circling, kneading touch was so real he dared not recall it fully.
He hadn’t received such messages in a long time, yet the dream appeared, his mind placing Lu Xianqing’s face onto it—was his subconscious warped by that pervert?
The man had insisted on exploring a path there, even carefully tending to the two ringed areas.
Qin Sizheng peeled back his hospital gown. Everything looked normal, no redness or swelling. He breathed out, relieved, but felt shameful for dreaming about Lu Xianqing in such a way.
He forced himself to calm down, hurried to wash up, and clean the soiled clothes before Lu Xianqing woke.
The moment he entered the bathroom, Lu Xianqing opened his eyes, taking out his phone. On the screen was the photo of Qin Sizheng wearing the ring, a keepsake from before.
Lu Xianqing locked the photo in a private folder, set a password, and finally got up from the cot.
An Ning had already pre-ordered breakfast for the entire crew under Qin Sizheng’s name, and Shen Changfeng had ordered milk tea—items arriving before the person.
The whole crew, instead of complaining about yesterday’s halted shoot, warmly checked on him.
Qin Sizheng, overwhelmed by their care, told everyone, “Don’t worry, I’m fine.”
Lu Xianqing watched the boy surrounded by concern, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Fourth Brother,” An Ning stood beside him, hesitating.
“Speak up.”
An Ning bit her lip. “Last night, I saw you at the bedside… kissing him. Are you… losing control again? Should we call Shen Qing?”
Lu Xianqing said: “No.”
“Don’t deny it. I’ve known you long enough to tell. You’re acting so openly because you couldn’t control yourself!”
He rested a hand on her head, lowering his voice. “Sister, no one can lie still when the one they like is lying next to them. If it were you, could you resist wanting to kiss them?”
An Ning thought for a moment. “I couldn’t.”
Lu Xianqing sighed.
An Ning braced herself for a lecture, holding her breath.
He simply sighed again: “Too bad, you’ll never sleep next to him in this life, so you’ll never know the feeling. Poor thing.”
An Ning: “?”
Crazy man!
Filming resumed after a day off. Yao Jinwei was replaced; Zhou Changjiang had chosen Chu Yao, a prolific but unassuming actress with solid acting skills, diligent and uncontroversial, whom he liked very much.
The morning shoot went smoothly, almost no NGs, nearly completing all of Yao Jinwei’s prior scenes.
“Excellent! Most of your past work was costume dramas, didn’t expect you to be so expressive in modern scenes!” Zhou Changjiang praised repeatedly, eyes almost crinkled shut.
Chu Yao, letting her assistant wipe sweat, smiled: “The director’s instructions were so detailed. I got the script last minute and was nervous, didn’t want to hold the team back.”
Zhou Changjiang: “Thanks for stepping in. When the shoot wraps, I’ll properly thank you.”
Chu Yao, not mentioning Yao Jinwei, graciously smiled. “Then it’s settled. If you don’t thank me, I’ll complain on Weibo!”
Zhou Changjiang joked with her before sending her to rest, then beckoned Qin Sizheng and Lu Xianqing over. “When we shoot the study scenes, be more affectionate. Don’t be shy during kisses. Especially you, A Jing—you need to take the initiative with him, climb onto his lap, trace past grievances, let your desire show in your eyes. If you like him, just go for it.”
Qin Sizheng felt embarrassed listening, while Lu Xianqing remained nonchalant. “What’s wrong? Rider position, huh?”
Zhou Changjiang was momentarily speechless, but realizing it wasn’t entirely wrong, he swallowed his retort and continued, “In Chu Jing’s eyes, these things are just ways of expressing affection. He likes Ding Chenhai, so he’s willing to be teased by him, and even enjoys finding more pleasurable ways together.”
Qin Sizheng buried his head lower and lower. Zhou Changjiang saw him practically trying to disappear into the floor and frowned. “What’s there to be shy about? Are you going to skip the scene?”
Lu Xianqing asked, “You’re not just running through the scene in your head, right?”
Qin Sizheng immediately raised his head and waved his hand. “No!”
Zhou Changjiang scanned their faces one by one, grinding his teeth. “Ten minutes to prepare. Dare to NG, and you’ll pay for it!”
Lu Xianqing’s eyes glimmered with mockery as he chuckled, “You get scolded for bad acting—why drag me into it? My acting is fine too. Don’t make trouble for no reason.”
Zhou Changjiang sneered, “He’s obedient. I scold him and…” He paused mid-sentence, suddenly realizing, and tossed the script into Lu Xianqing’s arms. “You, get out!”
Lu Xianqing caught the script and smiled leisurely.
Qin Sizheng took a moment to understand, then said, “Why are you going to get scolded again by Director Zhou? I might not even get scolded this time. Maybe I’ll nail it in one take—call me ‘One-Take Qin’ from now on.”
Lu Xianqing tapped the script lightly on his head. “Oh, so confident?”
“Of course! And look who my teacher is.”
Lu Xianqing laughed at him. “True. Handed down by Lu Xianqing himself—if you still can’t do it, then we really need to…”
“Need to do what?”
“Spank you,” Lu Xianqing said. “In our old Lu family, kids who don’t listen only understand after a spanking. Since you’re my student, one day a teacher, forever a father—you’re basically part of the Lu family now, right?”
Qin Sizheng didn’t know where to look, stammering in hesitation.
Fortunately, Zhou Changjiang had no patience left and shouted for them to take their positions. “Talk at the hotel later! Ah Jing, adjust your emotions, five minutes left.”
Qin Sizheng took a deep breath, immersing himself in Chu Jing’s role.
This was his first time here after confirming his relationship with Ding Chenhai, and also his first time in Ding’s study.
Chu Jing’s wrists were grabbed and pinned against the door, his back slamming heavily against the panel. Before he could catch his breath, his lips were bitten, and he went from struggling to slowly relaxing and responding.
The room’s lights were blindingly white. Qin Sizheng could barely open his eyes as he was flipped and pressed against the door, tossed around. Lu Xianqing then lifted him onto the desk.
Frustrated by his disadvantage, before the other could undo his buttons, he flipped over and gripped Lu Xianqing’s neck. “Uncle Ding, don’t move.”
Ding Chenhai froze.
Chu Jing’s grip tightened, issuing a command. “I don’t want to sit on the desk—I want to sit on your lap. Put me down.”
Ding Chenhai shook his head helplessly, setting him down face-to-face. Before a word was spoken, Chu Jing’s hand tightened again. “Take off your own clothes. You’re always so proper. This time, I want you to taste what it’s like to be teased!”
Ding Chenhai’s eyes darkened, a faint smile curling his lips as he leaned in. “So, Ah Jing, how do you want to tease me?”
Chu Jing dodged, “Now I’m giving the orders. Who allowed you to speak? Do as I say, or I’ll strangle you.”
Lu Xianqing felt the fingers around his neck really tightening, stirring a mix of imagined pain and pleasure from being dominated.
Qin Sizheng’s heart raced under the gaze; his fingers trembled slightly, forcing his voice to remain steady.
“Hurry!”
Ding Chenhai reached for the buttons, undoing them one by one, from the top down, until his shirt was open.
Qin Sizheng swallowed hard. The black suit pants emphasized restraint, while the belt highlighted a lean, firm waistline—starkly contrasting the upper body.
“Weren’t you going to tease me?” Lu Xianqing prompted, noticing his trance, leaning close to whisper, “Ah Jing, how do you want to handle me?”
Qin Sizheng’s ears tingled; his pupils instinctively shrank. “From now on, you are not allowed to speak!”
Ding Chenhai’s role was complex—once a figure of absolute evil, but thanks to Chu Jing he found a hint of goodness. Despite the depth, it posed no difficulty for Lu Xianqing.
Zhou Changjiang didn’t worry about him, focusing instead on Qin Sizheng. What started as just barely passing was now pushing for his potential, hoping he could deliver a more powerful performance.
After the scene, Qin Sizheng’s back was soaked. Even though the camera didn’t capture the back, Zhou Changjiang noticed when calling him over and felt a twinge of compassion.
The kid carried so much pressure, filming his first serious scene under Zhou’s direction, acting opposite Lu Xianqing. He never complained, never called it tiring, and humbly learned from every scolding—a promising talent.
Zhou Changjiang felt inspired and suddenly said, “Sizheng, what do you think of me?”
Qin Sizheng was momentarily stunned.
Lu Xianqing, quick-witted, immediately understood and laughed. “What? Scene not even finished, already eager to adopt a son?”
Zhou Changjiang, exposed, didn’t bother to dance around. “Honestly, I have that thought. Not literally calling you my son. I like you—come over for dinner sometime.”
Qin Sizheng, feeling flattered, replied, “Thank you for your kindness. I’ll definitely visit if I get the chance.”
“Then it’s settled,” Zhou Changjiang smiled and walked off.
Lu Xianqing said, “Visit? Zhou Changjiang may be nice, but you have history with Wen Li. And she… it’s better to keep your distance.”
Qin Sizheng blinked. “Wen Li?”
“You didn’t know?” Lu Xianqing looked at him curiously. “Wen Li is Zhou Changjiang’s wife.”