Qin Sizheng gave a slight nod and approached to greet everyone.
Xi Ling bumped fists with him, while Shi Jianxu, unlike the others, rushed over to hug him, only to be lifted by Ming Fei by the back of his collar, thrashing helplessly.
“What are you doing? I’m greeting Fourth Brother!”
“Fourth Brother is looking at you.”
Lu Xianqing stood at the far end, silent like a statue. Qin Sizheng withdrew his hand from Su Yiyan and lightly nodded, “Fourth Brother.”
The man’s gaze was deep, his brows like brushed ink, exuding an imposing aura. Just standing there, he drew everyone’s attention—Qin Sizheng included.
“I am Qin Sizheng.”
Ming Fei glanced at Lu Xianqing, puzzled. What was this act? A new kind of game?
Lu Xianqing looked at the hand Qin Sizheng offered, frowned slightly, and shook it. Before Qin Sizheng could feel the warmth, he had already withdrawn his hand.
Lu Xianqing paused, then asked softly, “Did you get stuck in traffic this morning?”
Qin Sizheng nodded faintly.
“Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
The dry, two-line exchange slowly extinguished Lu Xianqing’s morning hopes. He regained his composure and nodded lightly, “Good.”
Since last night, he had imagined what Qin Sizheng’s expression would be today—careful and mischievous like yesterday, or deliberately avoiding him.
He might not forgive or accept him so quickly, but with enough patience, he would wait until the day Qin Sizheng said, “Fourth Brother, I’ve thought it through. I still like you.”
He had prepared for a long road, but he never expected Qin Sizheng wouldn’t even spare a glance. The warmth from yesterday’s meal, so hard to come by, seemed like a dream born of his own longing.
Shi Jianxu finally found a chance, lifting his shirt, “Sizheng, look! I have abs now!”
Qin Sizheng lowered his head. Shi Jianxu, being mixed-race, had fair skin; the thin layer of muscle was just starting to show, delicate and beautiful.
“Feel! Quick, feel!”
Qin Sizheng ran a hand over his stomach. It wasn’t too hard. He asked about his training routine and offered some advice: “Don’t aim for huge muscles—they don’t look as good. Balance is better.”
Shi Jianxu didn’t care. Compliments made him happy. He opened his arms to hug Qin Sizheng again, only to be lifted by the collar.
“Boss, what are you doing!” He turned and saw Lu Xianqing, face dark, and immediately cowered. “Uh… Fourth Brother.”
Lu Xianqing dropped him in front of Ming Fei. “Take care of him.”
Qin Sizheng blinked, confused. Lu Xianqing looked displeased. “Don’t touch others recklessly.”
“Ah? Oh, okay.”
Lu Xianqing continued, “Now that you’ve touched him, whose feel is better—his or mine?”
Qin Sizheng couldn’t recall touching him. Today was supposed to be their first meeting. Was Lu Xianqing mistaken?
Yet seeing him so serious, Qin Sizheng awkwardly replied, “Both are good… just different sensations.”
Lu Xianqing insisted he choose.
Qin Sizheng thought, How would I know what Fourth Brother’s abs feel like? If you have the nerve, lift your shirt and let me compare!
“Do I really have to choose?”
“Yes.”
Seeing Shi Jianxu walk away, Qin Sizheng whispered, “Yours feels better.”
“Where exactly?”
Qin Sizheng glanced around at everyone, thinking, Why does this aloof actor have such a competitive streak over a single set of abs? If we’re comparing, my own abs feel better!
“Oh, so you’re just flattering me.”
Qin Sizheng shook his head immediately. Lu Xianqing pressed, “Compared to Shi Jianxu, what’s better about mine?”
“…Your firmness.”
Shi Jianxu’s abs were still soft at the start of his training, while Lu Xianqing had trained for a while. It was a safe answer.
Lu Xianqing took his hand and, with the other, grabbed a wet wipe from Xi Ling, cleaning the fingers that had touched Shi Jianxu. “This stops here. Don’t touch others recklessly—it’s unhygienic.”
Qin Sizheng was full of question marks. He wasn’t just going around touching everyone’s abs… and was it really that dirty?
“Understand?”
Qin Sizheng nodded immediately, “Understood.”
Xi Ling leaned back, chuckling. Su Yiyan asked, “Why are you laughing? You shipping Qing Shan and Sizheng too? Ah, they’re so sweet. Everyone knows the relationship, yet they insist on drawing boundaries—it’s so obvious, it’s adorable, my precious.”
Xi Ling was speechless. Su Yiyan met his gaze, sighed, and waved him off, going to focus on her candy.
Xi Ling glanced at Qin Sizheng and then at Lu Xianqing, then lowered his head. His uncle had asked him to advise Qin Sizheng to interact less with Lu Xianqing, but he couldn’t be bothered.
The director raised a trembling hand to interrupt the group’s chatter. “Um, since everyone is here, let’s change into our looks. Let’s aim to finish early.”
Qin Sizheng turned and left, without even glancing at Lu Xianqing.
Ming Fei didn’t follow Shi Jianxu to the makeup room, instead trailing Lu Xianqing. He pulled out a chair and told the makeup artist to step out, “Did you two have a fight?”
Lu Xianqing said, “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Private matters.”
“Pft, private matters… I know it’s your illness. Did he get tired of you?” Ming Fei crossed his legs, tapping his fingers on his knee, then shook his head. “No, with his nature, he’s usually compliant. You could do anything; he wouldn’t get tired of you. What did you do to him?”
Lu Xianqing said, “None of your business.”
Ming Fei: “Oh.”
The dressing room fell silent. Neither of them knew what the other was thinking. After a while, Ming Fei shifted his chair closer to Lu Xianqing and, teasingly, asked, “Hey… did you cheat?”
Lu Xianqing: “?”
Ming Fei propped his chin and reasoned, “The way he just looked at you… like he didn’t even know you. Even if he thought you were crazy, it shouldn’t have been like that. You must have done something to hurt him… something he can’t forgive… Hey, what are you doing?! Let go! That hurts! My bones! Fourth Brother! Ancestor! Let go!”
Ming Fei’s offhand words hit Lu Xianqing like a jolt. He looked at him in shock, swallowed, and faced him directly. “Do you remember that time you came home and I brought him back?”
Ming Fei rubbed his arm, grumbling: “Yeah, I remember. That time with the donkey from our production team.”
Lu Xianqing nodded. “That time I tricked him. It was my birthday, and I made him come to my place to cook for me.”
Ming Fei’s eyes lit up. “Wow… clever move.”
Lu Xianqing, too tired to joke, continued, “Since the wrap-up day, there was a bit of a misunderstanding between us. He asked me to give him time to decide whether he still wanted me. Then yesterday, he suddenly came to my house and said he wanted to celebrate my birthday with me.”
Ming Fei pondered for a moment. “He figured it out? Using your birthday as a way to give you both a graceful exit… that’s not bad, right?”
Lu Xianqing had thought the same, believing Qin Sizheng would give him a chance, letting him embrace her openly and see the tiny sparkles after he left.
But today’s encounter—her cold, unfamiliar gaze—was like a bucket of ice water, chilling him to the bone.
“He probably didn’t even know yesterday was my real birthday. I suspect he forgot everything from this past period and only recalled the time I tricked him.”
Ming Fei: “Impossible, right? Don’t spout nonsense. We’re steadfast materialists—don’t trust all that fluff. Maybe today he just decided he didn’t want you again?”
Lu Xianqing fell silent for a moment. It was possible. Yesterday’s dinner might have been because Qin Sizheng realized his real birthday—it wasn’t a secret, after all. He might have just gone along with a well-intentioned guess to celebrate him.
Lu Xianqing recalled every word and action from yesterday in detail, then called An Ning in. “Go get Shen Changfeng. I have a question for him.”
“Okay.”
Shen Changfeng arrived quickly, and the two questioned him, feeling unnerved under the gaze of the two actors—especially Lu Xianqing.
“Fourth Brother… what’s the matter?”
“Sit.”
Shen Changfeng sat stiffly, feeling like he was facing execution. He braced himself. “Fourth Brother, just say it straight.”
Lu Xianqing wasted no words: “Did he forget some things?”
Without needing clarification, Shen Changfeng nodded. He hesitated briefly, glanced at Ming Fei, and Lu Xianqing said, “It’s fine. Just tell me.”
From the first time he noticed Qin Sizheng’s drowsiness, to the hospital visits, and then when the forgetfulness worsened, Shen Changfeng recounted every detail to Lu Xianqing. He watched Lu Xianqing’s face darken further.
Shen Changfeng carefully pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it over. “He wrote this yesterday. Probably worried he might even forget you, so he wrote it down.”
Qin Sizheng had woken up that morning and forgotten even about this note. It was tucked in a book, corner peeking out. Shen Changfeng had found it while tidying the room, read its contents, and quietly pocketed it. This could no longer be hidden from Lu Xianqing.
Ming Fei propped his forehead with his hand, a faint smile at the corner of his mouth. “Why didn’t you say it earlier? Is there anyone in this world who loves him more than you? He got sick, and you kept it from him… how can you be an assistant?”
Shen Changfeng, intimidated by Ming Fei’s grin, trembled as he explained, pale-faced: “Sizheng has been suffering, keeping himself locked in his room, refusing to talk. I didn’t know how serious it was between them, or if Fourth Brother still wanted him. If Fourth Brother said break up first, Sizheng would have no ground to tell him about his illness.”
“You think…” Ming Fei smiled lightly, but his eyes sharpened, “Don’t you know? Qin Sizheng is the first person he ever truly cared for, more important than life itself.”
Shen Changfeng immediately stood, apologizing, “I’m sorry, I didn’t think it through.”
He had assumed, like the doctors said, that the pressure would ease in a few days. He hadn’t realized the situation had become this serious.
From the moment Lu Xianqing received the paper with four notes written on it, he was speechless. So when Qin Sizheng said, “I need to think,” he truly meant to think it through—not “I don’t want you anymore,” as Lu Xianqing had feared.
All that effort to resist the fading memories, the pain of holding onto them, and even in that suffering, he still wrote down the promise:
—I will never leave Lu Xianqing.
He had never, ever thought of leaving him.
Lu Xianqing’s fingers trembled. His eyes reddened as he stared at the note for a long while before a tear fell. He turned his head and tucked the paper into his pocket.
How helpless Qin Sizheng must have felt while writing it last night. If Lu Xianqing had been more perceptive, more careful, less selfish, perhaps he could have noticed something was wrong.
He could have held him then, whispered, Don’t be afraid. I’ll be your memory. I’ll remind you every day. I’ll tell you about us.
Lu Xianqing’s heart shattered with regret. At that moment, he had been wishing Qin Sizheng could love him again.
“Fourth Brother, I’m sorry,” Shen Changfeng said, bowing deeply. Along with the sincere apology, he added, “Sizheng has been very obedient. During the days he forgot, at first he wanted to secretly visit your set, thinking you were still filming. Then he feared disturbing you, so he didn’t go. Later, during the start of filming, he said he needed to practice his acting so he wouldn’t hold you back.”
Lu Xianqing’s voice caught slightly. “I know… I know he’s very obedient.”
He had always been obedient. Even knowing how he had once been mistreated, he refused to hold grudges and only said he needed time to think.
Those moments of avoidance, the breakdowns, the cries of “No”—they were just his loss of control after pushing himself too hard, not a true refusal. He had never thought of giving up.
Shen Changfeng hesitated on the words, knowing they might cross a line, but spoke anyway. “So… you still want him?”
Lu Xianqing’s hands trembled violently. The veins on the backs of his hands bulged as if ready to burst, even the tendons on his temples stood out, showing the depth of his struggle to contain the heartache he felt for Qin Sizheng.
He did not answer, but Shen Changfeng understood no answer was needed.
Ming Fei had said it correctly: Lu Xianqing’s love for Qin Sizheng had reached the point where he would give up his own life. Any promise now seemed pale in comparison to the weight of that single tear.
In this world, there were probably no other eyes that had seen Lu Xianqing cry outside of a performance. Shen Changfeng was fortunate to witness it, and fortunate to know the intensity of his love for Qin Sizheng—so overwhelming it seemed capable of drowning him.
Lu Xianqing’s hand continued to tremble, blood slowly seeping out. Shen Changfeng cried out in alarm, realizing that in his daze, Lu Xianqing had brushed against a grooming knife on the table, cutting himself.
“Go back… keep an eye on him.”
“But your hand…”
“It’s fine. Don’t tell him I know all this.”
“All right.”
Ming Fei had been silent since his earlier words. After Shen Changfeng left, he still stared at Lu Xianqing for a long moment, then let out a faint chuckle.
“What are you laughing at?”
“Laughing at you being an idiot.”
Lu Xianqing was too tired to respond. Ming Fei shifted in his chair and leaned back, speaking with a tone of wonder. “You… you’ve always been smarter than the rest of us. Growing up together, you end up topping the school. We’re scrambling to survive in this industry, and you debut straight to Best Actor—like you were born for it.”
Lu Xianqing said nothing. Ming Fei continued without pause: “You handle everything with such precision and care, yet you didn’t notice that he’d forgotten so much. Lu Xianqing… you’re useless.”
Ming Fei could imagine how restrained Lu Xianqing must be around Qin Sizheng—careful, cautious, even feeling that simply being near him was a privilege. He couldn’t spare a thought to analyze whether Qin Sizheng had forgotten anything.
He was too overjoyed, too precious, too afraid to disrupt a dream. Every approach required careful consideration.
“Look, love is just a flower that blooms occasionally along life’s long path. To mess yourself up this way for someone… it’s not necessary. Treat it as an accessory, a seasoning for life. If it’s there, great. If not, something else will suffice. You don’t have to insist on Chinese food, Lu Xianqing. The world is big; there’s always a substitute.”
Ming Fei had spent the first half of his life drifting through crowds, never truly caring for anyone. Even if he saw heartbreak, he could not imagine one day being like Lu Xianqing—sacrificing so much, losing even the simplest sharpness and analytical ability.
“Eh… how should I put it?” Ming Fei asked.
Lu Xianqing was silent for a long time. “I’ll just treat it as chasing him again. Even if he forgets me every day, I’ll try every day to make him fall in love with me all over again.”
Ming Fei frowned. “That’s exhausting… is it worth it?”
Lu Xianqing exhaled deeply. “Even if it’s exhausting, I don’t want him to leave me. I can only let him see this annoying me every day.”
Ming Fei shook his head. “I’m talking about you.”
Lu Xianqing paused, then smiled. “I’m not tired. Loving him isn’t tiring. It’s rare… and a blessing three lifetimes in the making.”
Ming Fei couldn’t understand. He rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought.
He had always had smooth sailing—served a few years in the military, entered the entertainment industry after, won awards, retired immediately, opened a company, and signed Lu Xianqing, propelling him straight to the top.
He had never truly faced hardship. To him, love was like food when hungry—if not Chinese, Western cuisine works; if that fails, fast food will suffice.
Call him cold or unfeeling—it didn’t matter. A life without love was fine for him.
But Lu Xianqing was different. He needed love to keep living.
Qin Sizheng was that indispensable sustenance. No matter how delicious other things were, he simply would not touch them. He would rather die than take even a glance.
“Knock knock.” The makeup artist tapped on the door, poking his head in. “Fourth Brother, ready for makeup? The director is urging.”
Lu Xianqing loosened his hand. “Mm.”
The makeup artist froze upon seeing him. “You’re injured! I’ll call someone to bandage it!”
“No need. An Ning.” Lu Xianqing placed his hand on the table. An Ning had been with him long enough to master emergency care.
Ming Fei stood. “All right, let’s go.”
Lu Xianqing didn’t even look up.
Ming Fei walked to the door with one hand in his pocket, then paused to glance back. He thought: if one day Shi Jianshu forgets him and shakes his head saying he doesn’t want him… tsk.
This is going to be brutal.