Lan Xingchen had spent three days on set, guarding Pei Qingjian like a hawk and forbidding any physical contact between him and Xiao Jin.
At first, Xiao Jin didn’t notice, but eventually he realized what was happening.
He had never seen a man so intensely monitor another man’s contact with other men, and he was perplexed.
So that night, he pondered seriously. The next day during a break in filming, he quietly asked Pei Qingjian,
“Your friend…”
Pei Qingjian: “Hmm?”
“Is he… uh…”
Pei Qingjian grew more puzzled. “Hmm?”
“Is he homophobic?”
Pei Qingjian: ???
He quickly shook his head, joking. He was straight; what would he be afraid of?!
“Because every time I put my hand on your shoulder, he watches my hand like he wants to chop it off.”
Pei Qingjian: …
“And when I pass by and pat you, he watches my hand like it’s some kind of crime.”
Pei Qingjian: …
“And every time I lean close to whisper to you, he stares at us like the neighbor’s pig came over, deciding whether to stew it or braise it—just like now.”
Pei Qingjian: ???
He wanted to look at Lan Xingchen to see what “just like now” meant, but before he could, Xiao Jin held him in place, eyes locked on him.
“Don’t look at him. If you do, he’ll know we were talking about him.”
Pei Qingjian: …
“But if I don’t look, how will I know what ‘just like now’ means?”
“Wait and see,” Xiao Jin said confidently. He held Pei Qingjian’s head and started counting down, “Ten, nine, eight…”
“What are you doing?” Pei Qingjian asked.
“When I reach one, he’ll come over and whisk you away, little cabbage,” Xiao Jin said.
Pei Qingjian: ???
Nearby, Lan Xingchen: !!!
He thought Xiao Jin was really problematic. Look at those claws! Where are they now?! Friends can just paw at people, huh? Pinch someone’s face at will, huh?!
Lan Xingchen frowned, stood abruptly, and strode toward Xiao Jin. Today, he was going to chop those claws and pickle them as spicy chicken feet!
Meanwhile, Xiao Jin continued the countdown: “Three, two, one—”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Lan Xingchen’s voice rang out. “Qingjian, your manager is looking for you.”
Xiao Jin quickly released Pei Qingjian’s face, giving a look that said, “See?”
Pei Qingjian: …
He had no idea how to explain. This wasn’t homophobia—this was just fear of Lan Xingchen and himself being too close!
Pei Qingjian could only smile awkwardly but politely, taking Lan Xingchen’s hand and walking away.
“What were you two just talking about?” Lan Xingchen lowered his voice as they walked, unable to hide his irritation. “And why were there hands on you?!”
“Nothing,” Pei Qingjian said.
“Nothing, and he still touched your face?”
Lan Xingchen stopped mid-step as he reached the spot where Xiao Jin had held Pei Qingjian, rubbing it a few times. He rubbed so vigorously that Pei Qingjian’s face flushed red.
“Alright, alright,” Pei Qingjian quickly pressed Lan Xingchen’s hand down. “He just pressed a little—didn’t actually touch.”
“Even pressing isn’t allowed,” Lan Xingchen said, still dissatisfied. “Go wash your face later, okay?”
Pei Qingjian: ???
He couldn’t help but laugh, half exasperated.
“Fine, fine,” he nodded. Since this role barely required makeup, washing his face was no big deal. As long as his ‘golden sponsor daddy’ was happy.
Lan Xingchen finally looked a little satisfied.
On Sunday afternoon, Lan Xingchen reluctantly left. Work on Monday awaited, and no one could take over for him.
Pei Qingjian watched him go, reminding him over and over to be careful on the way.
Lan Xingchen nodded, and before leaving, he planted a quick kiss on Pei Qingjian’s face. “Stay away from that Xiao Jin.”
Pei Qingjian could only laugh helplessly. “We’re just friends.”
“I’m not saying you can’t be friends,” Lan Xingchen clarified, “just make sure he doesn’t get hands-on with you.”
Pei Qingjian: …
He felt sorry for his straight-laced boyfriend. Honestly, Xiao Jin had barely touched him—at most, a little shoulder bump between straight men, a casual tap as he passed by to remind him he was there. That was all. No intimate gestures, no hidden intentions.
But Lan Xingchen clearly didn’t hear that, so Pei Qingjian just nodded. “Okay.”
“Good boy.” Lan Xingchen patted his head.
Director Jiang finally breathed a sigh of relief after Lan Xingchen left. With him around, Jiang had been holding back, afraid of embarrassing Pei Qingjian. Now he could speak freely again.
However, five days later, Lan Xingchen returned.
Jiang: ????
He hesitated before asking Pei Qingjian, “Is your friend coming just for these two weeks, or every week from now on?”
Pei Qingjian felt a little embarrassed. “Probably every week.”
Jiang: …
“Is… is that a problem?” Pei Qingjian suddenly felt guilty.
Jiang: …
“Never mind,” Jiang waved him off.
Close friends visiting set frequently wasn’t unusual, but every week? That was excessive. Did he have nothing else to do? He really was devoted entirely to Pei Qingjian!
“Does he hang out with his other friends?”
“They usually meet during the week,” Pei Qingjian explained.
Jiang: …
He felt a little exhausted. Well, fine. At least it would keep him from losing his temper too often. Maybe by the end of filming, his attitude would improve.
Pei Qingjian relaxed when Jiang said nothing more. Truthfully, he was just as eager to see Lan Xingchen. Especially since their contract would end once filming wrapped, he didn’t want to let him miss any visits.
Fortunately, Jiang didn’t object.
Pei Qingjian silently thanked him and promised, “He definitely won’t interfere with filming.”
Indeed, Lan Xingchen’s visits were low-key. He mostly sat with Pei Qingjian’s assistant or manager, occasionally sharing meals or drinks.
Jiang gave him a glance—who didn’t have a few close friends when young?
“But make sure you behave in front of your friend.”
“Yes,” Pei Qingjian nodded firmly.
From then on, Lan Xingchen’s weekly visits became routine. April slipped by quietly, and May arrived gracefully.
Pei Qingjian checked his schedule and noticed that on Lan Xingchen’s birthday, he didn’t have much filming. So he asked the director in advance for half a day off to celebrate with him.
Of course, he didn’t tell the director all the details—just that he had something to handle at home.
He had been diligent since filming started, and despite his growing fame, hadn’t picked up any bad habits. Director Jiang trusted and liked him, and readily approved the leave—adding an extra two days so he could fully manage things.
Pei Qingjian felt a little guilty. “Just one day is enough, maybe one and a half at most. I’ll return as soon as possible.”
“No problem. One day won’t make a difference,” Jiang patted his shoulder. “Go rest.”
Pei Qingjian smiled. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He didn’t rush to tell Lan Xingchen either. He waited until three days before his birthday and asked, “Will you spend your birthday at your uncle’s or at home?”
“At my uncle’s,” Lan Xingchen replied.
Then he asked keenly, “Why are you asking all of a sudden? Are you planning to celebrate with me?”
Pei Qingjian smiled and didn’t deny it. “Yes.”
Lan Xingchen instantly lit up.
“I’ll tell my uncle and go to your place.”
“No need. I’ve got the day off. I’ll come to you.”
“Really?” Lan Xingchen was delighted. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
“Isn’t it different now?”
“Of course it’s different,” Lan Xingchen said.
This could hardly be the same! This would make him happy well in advance!
Pei Qingjian smiled. “Then I’ll tell you earlier next time.”
“Okay.”
The two of them chatted sweetly for a while longer, arranging the plans for the day, before finally hanging up.
Pei Qingjian looked at the gift he had bought for Lan Xingchen, unsure if he would like it. It was the best gift he could offer at the moment, but compared to Lan Xingchen, it might still seem ordinary.
Still, he quickly encouraged himself—next year, he would have more money and could give him something better, something more expensive.
The only question was whether next year Lan Xingchen would even need a gift from him.
Before he knew it, three days had passed in the blink of an eye. Lan Xingchen, having taken time off, drove to the set to pick him up and celebrate his birthday together.
Pei Qingjian climbed into the car with a bright smile.
“Happy birthday,” he said.
He had already said it at midnight, but seeing Lan Xingchen in person made him want to say it again.
Lan Xingchen chuckled softly. “I really am quite happy right now.”
He didn’t go home first; instead, he drove straight to the Wenyuan villa.
Wenyuan and Zhou Man had already returned in advance, preparing for Lan Xingchen’s birthday.
Wenyuan had ordered a cake, and Zhou Man had prepared a full table of dishes.
Ning Yuan and Ning Rong had specially rushed back as well.
It was the first time Lan Xingchen saw them on his birthday. In past years, they hadn’t appeared, likely assuming he wouldn’t want them around, not wanting to make him unhappy.
This year, however, everyone had come.
When Ning Rong saw Pei Qingjian, she couldn’t help but smile. “I knew you’d come, Xiao Pei.”
Pei Qingjian felt a bit embarrassed. “I just happened to have the time.”
“Mm-hmm,” Ning Rong nodded in agreement.
Zhou Man gestured toward the table. “Let’s eat first. Lan Xingchen, you must be hungry, right?”
“Yes,” Lan Xingchen responded.
After driving all day, he was indeed a little tired.
They ate together, then shared the cake.
Wenyuan went first with the birthday gift, and the others followed, presenting their gifts one by one.
Lan Xingchen received them all, his face lit with joyful smiles.
Looking at his family and then at Pei Qingjian, he felt an unexpected happiness welling up inside him—a happiness that came straight from the heart.
It was like winter snow, spring blossoms, summer streams, and autumn sunset.
Time seemed to pause.
Life flourished, and the years radiated vitality.
Even without opening the gifts, he felt as though he had already received the best present he could wish for.
He chatted with everyone and, after the clock struck eleven, returned to his bedroom with Pei Qingjian.
“I’m going to open your gift now,” Lan Xingchen said.
Pei Qingjian tensed slightly. “Oh.”
Lan Xingchen sat on the small sofa and took the gift bag Pei Qingjian had brought.
Pei Qingjian’s heart leapt to his throat.
Lan Xingchen carefully pulled out a sleek black rectangular box, a flicker of surprise in his eyes.
This box was familiar—he knew it well. It was the usual gift box for the watch he loved.
He had bought several himself, yet Pei Qingjian had chosen this one for him.
Gently opening it, he found a watch inside.
A series he hadn’t owned before.
Lan Xingchen suddenly remembered a casual conversation: Pei Qingjian had remarked on the watches he wore.
“You seem to have several watches from this brand.”
“Yes, I like this brand.”
“Do you have every series?”
“Not really. I mostly stick to the Z series.”
Back then, Lan Xingchen hadn’t thought much of it—he’d spoken casually. Now, he realized that casualness was just an act.
Truly a talented actor, even in small gestures.
Lan Xingchen smiled and looked at Pei Qingjian.
“I really like it,” he said.
At that moment, Pei Qingjian’s heart finally settled.
Seeing the smile on Lan Xingchen’s face, he felt relieved—he liked it, and that was enough.
Originally, Pei Qingjian had intended to give a necklace instead, one to match the sapphire Starshine necklace Lan Xingchen had given him.
But necklaces were intimate, and with Pei Qingjian soon leaving, it didn’t seem appropriate.
A watch, however, was different. It was practical, a simple tool for telling time. Its intimacy was limited, making it suitable for now.
“If you like it, that’s enough,” Pei Qingjian said.
Lan Xingchen naturally liked it, slipping it onto his wrist. “Now, it’s like every minute and every second, you’re with me.”
Pei Qingjian: ??? Wow.
He was surprised at such a poetic interpretation. The watch had been meant to maintain some distance in their relationship, yet Lan Xingchen’s words made it feel intimate and sticky instead.
Looking at the watch on his wrist, Pei Qingjian thought: next time, maybe he should’ve stuck with the necklace idea.