Lin Xingchen: !!!
Lin Xingchen stared at the message on his phone, then looked up at Fang Junhao and Xie Siqi, who were chatting with him while casually drinking beer.
Finally, he glanced guiltily at the glass he had just picked up.
Don’t ask. If you ask—he’s guilty!
Lin Xingchen quickly called a server over and asked for a glass of cold water.
Lin Xingchen: [Haven’t eaten yet. I’m at a bar, but I’m not drinking—just water.]
He attached a photo of the water.
Lin Xingchen: [I’ll go eat in a bit.]
Pei Qingjian saw that he was out with friends and didn’t want to interrupt too much, so he replied:
[Okay.]
He put down his phone and started eating.
The crew’s boxed meal was actually pretty decent—two meat dishes, two vegetables, and a bowl of soup.
After finishing, Zhou Pengyue opened the van door and took him back to the makeup room.
This time it was to remove his makeup and change out of costume.
Amily naturally came over, guided him to sit at the makeup table, and began removing his makeup.
Meanwhile, Lin Xingchen kept staring at his phone over and over again.
That’s it? Just “okay”? That’s all?
Could he be mad?
Lin Xingchen couldn’t help overthinking.
From Pei Qingjian’s perspective, he had only been away for three days, and Lin Xingchen had already run off to a bar—not eating properly and even thinking about drinking.
That basically screamed: not taking his advice seriously.
Lin Xingchen instantly regretted everything.
He admitted—he had been a bit lucky-minded. Fang Junhao had invited him out, and since they hadn’t gone to a bar in a while, he figured having just one or two drinks wouldn’t hurt.
And yet, before the alcohol even touched his lips, Pei Qingjian had “checked in.”
What did this prove?
That no one should ever rely on luck!
Lin Xingchen sighed inwardly.
Fang Junhao looked at him, confused. “What’s with you? Why aren’t you drinking?”
“Drink what? It’s all your fault—dragging me out to drink!” Lin Xingchen immediately shifted the blame.
Fang Junhao: ???
“Hey, watch your tone. I asked you beforehand—you said you could drink!” Fang Junhao refused to take the fall.
Lin Xingchen: …Well, he had been craving it.
“Let’s go. I’ll treat you guys to dinner,” Lin Xingchen said helplessly.
Drinking was out of the question now—better to just eat.
Fang Junhao and Xie Siqi didn’t object. They grabbed the drinks they had already ordered and left the bar with him.
The three of them found a nearby place and had a meal.
Lin Xingchen sent another photo to Pei Qingjian:
[They finished their drinks, so we came out to eat.]
He added quickly:
[Of course, I didn’t drink at all.]
[Okay.]
By this time, Pei Qingjian had already removed his makeup, changed back into his own clothes, and returned to the van.
The day was over. Even though it didn’t feel like he had done much, he was inexplicably tired.
Thinking that Lin Xingchen was still with his friends, and that it wouldn’t be appropriate to keep messaging him nonstop, Pei Qingjian put down his phone, closed his eyes, and planned to nap for a bit. Once he got back to the hotel and Lin Xingchen finished dinner and went home, they could talk again.
He closed his eyes—and quickly fell asleep.
Lin Xingchen waited for a while. Seeing no reply, his heart sank.
Still mad?
Lin Xingchen: [Is the crew’s boxed meal good?]
This time, Pei Qingjian didn’t even send a single “okay.”
Crap.
Lin Xingchen’s heart dropped.
How angry must he be to not reply at all?
How was he supposed to fix this?
He had never seen Pei Qingjian this obviously upset before!
Lin Xingchen stood up, said something to Fang Junhao and the others, and stepped outside to call him.
Pei Qingjian wasn’t sleeping deeply. Hearing his phone ring faintly, he picked up.
“…Hello.”
“Why aren’t you replying to my messages?” Lin Xingchen asked, uneasy.
“Hm?” Pei Qingjian murmured sleepily. “I didn’t see them. I fell asleep just now.”
Only then did Lin Xingchen notice how soft and drowsy his voice sounded. “Tired?”
“Kind of.” Pei Qingjian leaned against the car window. “Aren’t you eating with Fang and the others?”
“I was worried since you didn’t reply,” Lin Xingchen said.
Pei Qingjian let out a small laugh. “Go eat. It’s rare for you guys to get together—talk and enjoy yourselves. Call me after you’re done.”
“So… you’re not mad?” Lin Xingchen asked cautiously.
Pei Qingjian: ???
“Why would I be mad?” he asked, confused.
“Because… I went to a bar,” Lin Xingchen said quietly.
Pei Qingjian thought he really did look guilty without being accused.
“I told you before—I’ll go easy on you sometimes. Turn a blind eye. Otherwise, that’d be too miserable for you.”
Being sick was already miserable enough. And Lin Xingchen’s stomach issue wasn’t that serious—so as long as he kept a regular diet most of the time, avoided smoking, alcohol, and spicy food, sneaking a little indulgence once in a while wasn’t a big deal to Pei Qingjian.
“You can just drink a little,” he said. “After all, your stomach isn’t great.”
Lin Xingchen felt like he was unbelievably thoughtful.
What a good person. So considerate.
Not nitpicky at all, unlike someone as carefree as himself.
“Then get some rest. I’ll call you when I get home later,” Lin Xingchen said gently.
“Mm,” Pei Qingjian replied.
Lin Xingchen hung up, his mood noticeably lighter as he walked back.
Zhou Pengyue saw Pei Qingjian put his phone away, tilt his head—and fall asleep again. He didn’t disturb him.
Only when they arrived at the hotel and got out of the car did Zhou Pengyue ask, “Who were you on the phone with just now?”
“Lin Xingchen.”
“And you’re still managing whether he drinks or how his stomach is?”
Pei Qingjian: …
He turned to look at him and smiled. “We’re friends.”
“Just friends?”
Pei Qingjian thought for a moment, then nodded.
When the contract ended, if Lin Xingchen wanted them to continue as friends, then their final relationship would probably just be that—friends.
Pei Qingjian stretched. “I’m so tired.”
Seeing that, Zhou Pengyue said considerately, “Just go straight to sleep when you get back later. You’ve worked hard today—just makeup alone took three rounds.”
“You worked hard too,” Pei Qingjian replied politely.
Zhou Pengyue chuckled. “Seeing your acting improve this much makes everything worth it!”
“Xiao Pei, keep it up—you’ll definitely make it!” Zhou Pengyue said firmly.
Back in his room, Pei Qingjian took a shower and lay on the bed scrolling through Weibo. Strangely enough, he had been exhausted on the way back, but after showering, he wasn’t that sleepy anymore.
As he scrolled, his phone rang—sure enough, it was Lin Xingchen.
Pei Qingjian picked up. “You’re home?”
“Yeah.”
Pei Qingjian rolled over on the bed. “Was dinner good?”
“It was okay. What about your crew’s boxed meal?”
“It was pretty good,” Pei Qingjian said. “Four dishes and a soup—nice balance of meat and vegetables.”
“That’s good,” Lin Xingchen said with a smile.
“Oh right—you haven’t seen my look for this drama yet, have you?”
Pei Qingjian opened his gallery, found the three photos he had posted on Weibo earlier, and sent them over.
“Well? Pretty good-looking, right?”
Lin Xingchen looked at the black-clad young man in the photos and paused slightly, as if he hadn’t expected Pei Qingjian to appear before him in this form.
He knew Pei Qingjian was an actor, of course—but he had never actually watched his work. The idea existed in his mind, but there hadn’t been a concrete image to match it.
Now, there was.
“Very good-looking,” he answered seriously.
Different from usual—cooler, more distant—but still very cute.
Thinking that, Lin Xingchen quietly saved the photos to his album.
Pei Qingjian also felt this styling suited him well. Holding his phone, he softly told Lin Xingchen about what had happened on set that day.
“Good thing I was smart. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to keep this look.”
Lin Xingchen hadn’t expected something as simple as styling to involve so many twists and turns.
“She didn’t give you trouble afterward, did she?” he asked with concern.
“No. On the surface, it was Song Ye who wasn’t satisfied and asked for the change, so I’m just the poor middleman caught between the two of them.”
Lin Xingchen thought he did sound pretty pitiful. “Your entertainment industry really is complicated.”
“Tell me about it,” Pei Qingjian sighed.
He had thought all he needed to do was act well—but apparently, he also had to outmaneuver people.
Good thing he had a bit of cleverness, or he’d be done for.
Lin Xingchen sighed. “If something like this happens again, you can tell me. I’ll help you find some connections so you don’t end up at a disadvantage.”
Hearing that made Pei Qingjian a little happy.
Not because he necessarily wanted to rely on Lin Xingchen’s connections—but because someone cared about him and was willing to stand up for him.
“I’ll call you if Brother Zhou can’t handle it,” he said. Otherwise, if he relied on Lin Xingchen for everything and got used to it, what would he do later if Lin Xingchen ended up with someone else? Would he still go looking for him?
That wouldn’t be appropriate.
Better for him and Zhou Pengyue to handle things themselves first.
Besides, after all these years, Pei Qingjian was used to solving his own problems.
He had never really had anyone to rely on growing up. Over time, he had simply grown accustomed to not depending on others.
Zhou Pengyue was different—he was his partner in career. Their success and failure were tied together, so Pei Qingjian didn’t mind taking his advice.
But Lin Xingchen wasn’t.
So he didn’t want to rely on him too much in his career.
They should each have independent paths—careers that could thrive even without the other.
That way, their relationship would be healthier.
Lin Xingchen didn’t say much after hearing that.
Having ambition wasn’t a bad thing. It was good that Pei Qingjian had his own plans. As for whether he turned to him first or not—it didn’t really matter, as long as the problem got solved. Lin Xingchen wasn’t the type to insist on being the one to fix everything.
Holding his phone, listening to Pei Qingjian’s voice, he suddenly found himself missing him.
This had happened before—on the first day after Pei Qingjian left.
That day, after work, he had gone home, opened the door, and found the living room lights weren’t on like usual. There were no familiar sounds from the kitchen. Only then did it sink in—Pei Qingjian had gone off to work.
It was perfectly normal.
But perhaps because he had gotten used to the two of them living together, suddenly being alone again left him with an undeniable sense of faint loneliness and emptiness.
Even though, in reality, they hadn’t lived together for very long.
Even though he had lived alone in that apartment for far longer.
Which just went to show—habits really didn’t make sense.
They didn’t care about time or reason. They struck when you least expected it, making you realize that, somehow, you had come to prefer this kind of life.
“I’ll come visit you in a few days,” Lin Xingchen said.
Pei Qingjian lit up. “Really? You have time?”
Lin Xingchen let out a soft scoff. “Of course I do.”
“I told you before, right? I have two partners. One of them is coming back this week. Once he’s back, I’m taking time off!”
Pei Qingjian let out an excited “Wow,” clearly delighted. “Nice!”
“Then let me know before you come—I’ll go pick you up.”
“Deal,” Lin Xingchen agreed.
They chatted back and forth for quite a while. Eventually, seeing it was almost midnight and worrying that Pei Qingjian had filming the next morning, Lin Xingchen finally said, “You should go to sleep. It’s late. I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
“Mm.” Pei Qingjian was indeed getting sleepy. “You should rest early too.”
“Mm.”
Only after hearing that did Pei Qingjian hang up.
He glanced at his phone—only 5% battery left—plugged in the charger by his bedside, and slid under the covers.
He wondered when Lin Xingchen would arrive.
Even though they had only been apart for three days, for some reason… he kind of missed him.
Hope it’s soon, he thought, silently wishing.