Chapter 65

The noon flight meant Zhou Ziheng had planned to wake up early to pick up Xia Xiqing from his apartment and accompany him to the airport. But Jiang Yin saw right through his intentions and flatly refused to let him go.

“Public opinion has only just calmed down. If you can avoid any appearance of impropriety, you should.”

Zhou Ziheng’s face darkened instantly.

What suspicion? He wished the whole world knew how close he was to Xia Xiqing, wished that anyone seeing Xia Xiqing would immediately think of him. But ultimately, Zhou Ziheng couldn’t bear the thought of Xia Xiqing being criticized, so he reluctantly agreed to go their separate ways.

Xia Xiqing hadn’t signed with the company, but he couldn’t film without an assistant. Jiang Yin called the company to request an experienced male assistant, but Zhou Ziheng flatly refused. They had to settle for a female assistant instead.

“Do you know where Xiqing is staying now? I’ll give the address to Xiaoxiao. She’ll go pick him up shortly.”

Hearing his sister-in-law ask this, Zhou Ziheng nearly blurted out the truth. But he suddenly realized that revealing it would mean telling her he lived right across from Xia Xiqing. Though purely coincidental, it would inevitably spark unwanted speculation.

His current state of mind was pure denial.

“Um… just have Xia Qing go to the airport himself. If the car leaves from your company, it’ll be easy to follow. Pick him up later—what if reporters start writing nonsense about you signing him or something?”

Jiang Yin shot him a look. “I’m already worrying about him day in and day out. What difference does it make if I signed him? He can’t even make me any money yet.”

Zhou Ziheng fawned over his sister-in-law the whole way, and Jiang Yin, considering the possibility he raised, changed her earlier decision. She let Xiaoxiao head straight to Capital Airport. The group eventually met up at the airport. Zhou Ziheng’s car got stuck in traffic for a while, making them the last to arrive. As they approached the departure lounge, they spotted a large crowd of girls gathered around, each calling out “Xī Qīng Ge!” in sweet, high-pitched voices.

They had planned to sneak closer, but sharp-eyed fans immediately spotted Zhou Ziheng.

“Hengheng, your outfit today is so cool! That gray hoodie looks great!”

“Hengheng, you look so handsome!”

“Zhou Ziheng, you’re killing it today!”

Zhou Ziheng nodded repeatedly, apologetically declining the fans’ gifts. With heavy steps, he moved toward another whirlpool of excitement. Xia Xiqing, seated on a chair surrounded by girls, heard the commotion and removed his headphones. He was dressed in rare casual attire— a black short-sleeved shirt paired with high-waisted dark gray cargo pants, topped with a light gray baseball cap. Spotting Zhou Ziheng’s face in the crowd, his perpetually gentle expression finally cracked into a sly, playful grin.

“Oh my, I just noticed how perfectly Xiqing and Ziheng match today.”

“Yeah, all in black and gray—total couple’s outfits!”

Zhou Ziheng looked down at his own outfit in surprise—a gray hoodie, black sweatpants, and a black baseball cap worn backwards. He’d just grabbed these items randomly from home before leaving, never expecting they’d actually match Xia Xiqing’s outfit perfectly.

What a coincidence. Was this what people called a meeting of the minds?

Thinking this, Zhou Ziheng suddenly felt incredibly stylish today. He looked sharp from every angle.

As boarding time approached, the crowd of fans was so dense they could barely move. Worried Xia Xiqing might stumble, Zhou Ziheng stood behind him, both hands resting on his shoulders. Only then did he notice how perfectly the fitted black T-shirt hugged Xia Xiqing’s waist, accentuating his sleek, toned physique in a way that was undeniably tempting.

“Ziheng, are you finally going to make your debut?” a fan called out from the crowd.

“Debut?” Zhou Ziheng looked utterly confused. “What debut?”

The fans burst into laughter. “Starring in a romance movie!”

Zhou Ziheng nearly choked on their words, coughing a few times with his head bowed. Xia Xiqing felt the hands on his shoulders tighten slightly. He smiled faintly and explained to the girls beside him, “It’s not a romance film this time, you know.”

A wave of disappointed murmurs rippled through the fans.

“Their relationship is quite complex. Based on my understanding of the script, it goes beyond friendship.” Xia Xiqing turned his face to look at Zhou Ziheng. “What do you think?”

Those beautiful eyes suddenly met his gaze. Zhou Ziheng paused, hesitating for a second.

“Ah, yes, I agree. ”

No, it was more than friendship.

It was love.

Zhou Ziheng’s heart repeatedly affirmed his own conclusion.

The flight wasn’t long, but this time Director Kuncheng sat next to Zhou Ziheng, while Xia Xiqing was seated in front of Director Kun. As usual, he closed his eyes and fell asleep the moment he boarded the plane. Director Kun, however, had a lot to say to Zhou Ziheng. He seized the opportunity to share all his insights gained while polishing the script and his understanding of the film with Zhou.

But Zhou Ziheng’s heart was completely focused on the person diagonally in front of him. His eyes kept drifting over, almost glued to Xia Xiqing’s slender, fair nape.

“The final draft is incredibly visual—Editor Xu did a fantastic job, saving me a ton of storyboarding work.” Director Kun opened a photo album on his laptop. “We took the crew on a scouting trip last week. Look, these are shots we captured.”

Zhou Ziheng hummed in acknowledgment, shifting his gaze from Xia Xiqing’s silhouette between the seats to Director Kun’s computer screen. The photos showed two rows of buildings so tall the camera couldn’t capture their full height. The windows were small, and illegal structures were everywhere. The buildings stood only about five feet apart, forming a dimly lit alleyway. The scene split at the Zhong residence, below lay a dim, muddy road and walls painted a patchy emerald green, while the upper half was bathed in unreachable sky light.

Kun Cheng studied Zhou Ziheng’s expression. “Did you get that feeling right away?”

Zhou Ziheng nodded slowly, his realization coming belatedly. “Yes… exactly.”

It was this very street where Gao Kun, cornered and desperate, had followed the bewildered Jiang Tong. He’d shoved him hard against the wall, its emerald paint glowing with a sinister sheen in the dim light.

“Is this a view of Wuhan?” Zhou Ziheng couldn’t quite believe it. He’d visited the city many times for work before—it was developed and bustling, nothing like the scene in the photo.

“Yes.” Kuncheng nodded. “Editor Xu decided on the filming location while writing the script. I heard he’s from Wuhan, so he might be more familiar with it. He mentioned it’s an urban village in Wuhan. Scenes like this are almost extinct now—truly rare.”

Editor Xu is from Wuhan. So is Xia Xiqing.

Zhou Ziheng lifted his eyes, noticing Xia Xiqing’s sleeping head drifting toward the center. He gently nudged it back into place—a rather endearing gesture.

Returning to his hometown for filming—would it stir up unpleasant memories? A faint worry stirred within him, but then he recalled what Xu Qichen had said earlier.

Xia Xiqing couldn’t run from his past forever. He’d have to confront it eventually.

As the plane touched down, Zhou Ziheng immediately felt the full force of the early summer heat in this city once dubbed a “furnace.” Though it was only mid-May, it already felt like an open-air sauna. After just a few steps, he could feel the sleeves of his hoodie sticking to his skin. The humid, stifling southern weather was truly unaccustomed for a genuine northerner like him.

Xia Xiqing, however, was unfazed. His body had long adapted to his hometown’s climate. Yet he’d slept fitfully throughout the journey, his neck stiff and uncomfortable. He turned his head, trying to ease the tension. Hearing Zhou Ziheng and Director Kun chatting cheerfully behind him only deepened the bad mood his lack of sleep had already brought on.

The next moment, a warm, dry palm pressed against the back of his neck, kneading it with just the right amount of pressure. Xia Xiqing turned his head to see Zhou Ziheng’s face still facing Director Kun, yet his hand rested lightly on Xia Xiqing’s neck.

Zhou Ziheng called out, “Director Kun, should we head to the hotel first or the filming location? What about the others?”

Kun Cheng waved dismissively with a smile, “We haven’t officially started filming yet.” His eyes shifted to Xia Xiqing. “Xiqing, to help you get into character sooner, we rented a house in Hua’anli. That’s where Jiang Tong will live once filming begins. Since your characters will share a living space later, why not stay there with Ziheng for a few days first? Get used to each other, find your rhythm.” His smile held a hint of apology. “The conditions might be rough. You’ll need to adjust.”

“No problem.” Xia Xiqing smiled, brushing away Zhou Ziheng’s hand still draped around his neck. “I’m no stranger to hardship.”

As soon as they exited the airport, the car arranged by Director Kun picked them up. The driver was a local big brother speaking a dialect that sounded incredibly familiar to Xia Xiqing—warm, chatty, and full of stories. Xiao Luo and Xiaoxiao took their luggage and headed straight to the hotel.

Kun Cheng sat in the front passenger seat. He’d become quite familiar with this driver during his last visit to Han, and the two chatted and laughed, talking about everything under the sun. The driver glanced over at Zhou Ziheng through the rearview mirror and smiled. “I recognize this handsome guy—big star. My daughter really likes you. Oh, and by the way, my name is Yang Fei. You can call me Old Yang.”

“We’ll call you Brother Fei,” Zhou Ziheng replied with a friendly smile.

Brother Fei’s gaze shifted to Xia Xiqing beside Zhou Ziheng. “This handsome guy looks pretty fair-skinned. Doesn’t seem like he’s from the north.”

Xia Xiqing curved his lips and tilted his cap slightly. “I’m from Wuhan.”

This was the first time Zhou Ziheng had heard Xia Xiqing speak his dialect.

Unlike many southerners, he always spoke standard Mandarin, even with a slight northern accent, making it hard to guess his hometown from his pronunciation.

When he spoke his hometown dialect, his voice dropped low. The word “Hubei” stretched out unconsciously, sounding far more vivid than in Mandarin. To Zhou Ziheng, it was both cool and adorable.

“Oh! You’re local then. No wonder.” Big Brother also switched to Wuhan dialect. “I mean, you look just like one of us Wuhan lads.”

Xia Xiqing glanced at Zhou Ziheng, noticing he’d been staring at him. He smiled and whispered, “Do you understand what Fei Ge said?”

Zhou Ziheng froze for a moment. “Huh? Um… He said you’re good-looking.”

What nonsense. Xia Xiqing chuckled. “Pretending to understand.” He deliberately shifted back against the seat, the brim of his cap casting a shadow over his lower eyelids.

Amidst their banter, Xia Xiqing turned his face toward the window. Towering office buildings, blue construction barriers awaiting work, overpasses beneath light rail tracks—familiar streetscapes were filtered through the gray tint of the sunshade film on the window, like a black-and-white silent film watched countless times.

Each viewing felt familiar, yet revealed countless new details.

Zhou Ziheng mimicked his posture, slouching downward. But with nowhere to stretch his long legs, he casually extended them toward Xia Xiqing’s feet, tucking his right foot between Xia’s legs. Not wanting to disturb Xia with conversation, he sat silently beside him.

After driving for a while, the scenery suddenly changed dramatically. While there were still many buildings here, they carried an eighties vibe. The outdated architectural designs and peeling, powder-orange walls constantly hinted at their age. The most conspicuous building bore a sign reading “Friendship Department Store” in archaic lettering. Surrounding structures, large and small, shared this character, though interspersed with newer establishments like chain convenience stores.

“This area’s near the riverbank,” Xia Xiqing remarked suddenly. “Demolition costs too much here, so many old buildings remain. This whole district used to be quite bustling.”

“I can tell.” Xia Xiqing initiated the conversation, and Zhou Ziheng was overjoyed.

Before long, their car ascended the Yangtze River Bridge. The surrounding view suddenly opened up. The rippling river surface glistened with fragments of gold scattered by the setting sun. Several ferries drifted slowly, occasionally emitting long, drawn-out whistles. Gazing into the distance, the sky was ablaze with fiery red clouds, resembling a burning inferno on the Yangtze.

Though a water scene, this place was entirely different from the water towns of Jiangnan. Here lay vast rivers and lakes, brimming with the fiery, unrestrained spirit of the Jianghu.

This quality perfectly complemented Xia Xiqing. He appeared like gentle water, yet only upon truly flowing in did one touch his vibrant, untamed soul.

“So beautiful.” Zhou Ziheng exclaimed sincerely, recalling a famous verse: “The dusk mist deepens, the vast sky of Chu.”

Hearing the line, Xia Xiqing chuckled softly. “You’re quite the science major, aren’t you?”

Kuncheng and Fei Ge continued their conversation. Xia Xiqing interrupted, “Director, where exactly is this filming location?”

“Hua’an Lane.”

“Hua’an Lane?” Xia Xiqing seemed surprised, but quickly regained his composure. “It’s impressive you found that place.”

Kun Cheng laughed. “That’s what Editor Xu said. He mentioned he even made a special trip back when writing the script.”

“Oh, right. I almost forgot.” Xia Xiqing gazed out the window. “Honestly, most locals in Wuhan have never been to Hua’anli. It’s mostly filled with migrants now.”

“Hmm…” Director Kun turned to look at Xia Xiqing. “I heard you and Editor Xu were classmates? That means you’ve known each other for quite a while.”

“Yeah, we were in the same high school class. He was already amazing back then, always entering writing competitions and crafting brilliant essays.” Xia Xiqing’s expression softened as he recalled their high school days. “But he was incredibly introverted back then, hardly speaking to anyone.”

Just as he spoke, his wrist was seized. Xia Xiqing turned in surprise to find Zhou Ziheng shielding their hands with a backpack. He tried to pull away, but Zhou Ziheng held him tight, forcing his fingers interlocked with Xia Xiqing’s.

Xia Xiqing mouthed a question at him, demanding to know what he was doing. Zhou Ziheng only smiled without answering, holding his hand firmly.

He liked the genuine tenderness Xia Xiqing showed, but disliked that tenderness wasn’t directed at him.

“Editor Xu isn’t very talkative now either, but he has a gentle personality. He’s very easy to talk to and has a good temper.”

“Huh? Yeah… that’s just how he is.” Fearful that Director Kun might catch them holding hands, Xia Xiqing’s reply was distracted.

The instigator, Zhou Ziheng, was perfectly content, even squeezing his hand deliberately. “What about you?”

“Me?” Xia Xiqing tilted his head in confusion. “What about me?”

“Are you the same now as you were in high school?”

For some reason, Xia Xiqing sensed a hint of regret in Zhou Ziheng’s words. It felt like missing out on something important, something truly regrettable.

Zhou Ziheng’s gaze was so sincere it made Xia Xiqing feel uneasy. He lowered his eyes and gave a hasty, perfunctory reply, “…Pretty much.”

“Xiqing must’ve had plenty of admirers back in high school,” Kun teased him. “With looks like yours, you must’ve been the school heartthrob.”

“Exactly. A class with someone as good-looking as Xiqing is pretty rare,” Fei chimed in.

They really knew how to rub salt in the wound.

Xia Xiqing felt the hands gripping his tighten. He turned his head, ready to glare, but Zhou Ziheng beat him to it. He raised an eyebrow, leaned closer, and smiled. “Yeah, you were that good-looking.”

His tone was unmistakably sarcastic.

“And then?” Xia Xiqing’s eyebrow arched in response.

Zhou Ziheng’s gaze lingered suggestively on the face hidden beneath the hat brim. The two hands clasped beneath the brim were concealed, their palms touching, burning hot.

“I’m just curious—did you have a long line of admirers back then, or did you chase after many people yourself?” Zhou Ziheng’s voice was low, inadvertently revealing far too much.

Xia Xiqing chuckled silently. The fingers nestled between his own lightly tapped Zhou Ziheng’s hand, then slowly and gently traced the prominent veins on his knuckles with the pads of his fingers. The touch was like a cigarette butt about to be extinguished, igniting a burning ache wherever it brushed against the skin.

Xia Xiqing answered his question, but not directly.

“I’m hard to chase.”

He deliberately lowered his voice, yet couldn’t suppress the playful teasing. His words fell like a half-burned feather, drifting lightly onto Zhou Ziheng’s chest, setting his blood ablaze.

Zhou Ziheng’s thumb idly scraped the side of Xia Xiqing’s index finger, stroke after stroke.

“I figured as much.”