“Qin Sizheng, Fourth Brother, come over. There’s a spot we need to adjust temporarily,” Zhou Changjiang called, then continued discussing with the assistant director.
“Let’s go.”
“Sizheng, why’s your face so red? Exhausted from earlier?” Zhou asked.
Qin Sizheng muttered “Uh-huh,” not revealing that the redness was from being called “My… Little Ah Jing.” He quickly turned to the script. “What needs changing?”
Zhou Changjiang held it out. “Here. That scene with Fourth Brother had strong tension already, but I think we can add a shot to heighten expression. Can you drink alcohol?”
Qin Sizheng immediately remembered how he had fared the last time he’d been drunk and hurriedly said, “I don’t know how… do I need to drink?”
Zhou Changjiang glanced at him. “We’re adding a scene where he forces you to drink. It’ll show more of his…” He paused, turning to look at Lu Xianqing for a moment before choosing the right word. “…perversity.”
Qin Sizheng listened carefully as Zhou continued. “In the upcoming scene, you’re still kneeling. Just now, Ding Chenhai was drawn in by the defiance in your eyes, so he changed his mind. He wants to break that spirit of yours, so he’ll humiliate you fully. And you—having clawed your way up from the mud, fearless of anything—forcing alcohol on you might embarrass you, but it won’t touch your heart, won’t extinguish the fire in your eyes. Understand?”
Qin Sizheng nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. That’s how we’ll shoot it.” Zhou had the props prepared and gave them a moment to run through their lines, aiming for a one-take shot.
Lu Xianqing frowned. “Why didn’t you explain it to me?”
Zhou gave him a look. “Do you need an explanation?”
Lu Xianqing smirked. “Why not? Tell me specifically how ‘perverse’ it is—don’t want people thinking I’m taking advantage. And if I get slapped, does that count as a work injury?”
Qin Sizheng’s ears were still red. “It won’t happen.”
“Huh?” Lu Xianqing asked, as if he didn’t understand. “Won’t happen?”
With so many people listening, Qin Sizheng grew shy. His voice barely above a whisper, he replied, “You can do whatever—you won’t get slapped.”
“Really won’t?” Lu Xianqing leaned close, whispering something in his ear. Qin Sizheng’s eyes widened, his face flushed even more. “Fourth Brother!” he murmured nervously.
Zhou Changjiang, unable to watch, turned his head. “Stop teasing him. If his face stays this red, we won’t be able to shoot. Go calm down. Half an hour and we start.”
Qin Sizheng took a deep breath, Lu Xianqing’s words still echoing in his ears: “Even in the kissing scene later? And the bed scenes—you won’t use stands or body doubles? You really won’t get angry?”
Images of the upcoming scenes flashed through his mind. When he first arrived, he had watched Lu Xianqing’s intimate scenes—not fully nude or explicit, but filmed with incredible tension—making him blush and his heart race.
Now he was going to act alongside Lu Xianqing… and in those scenes.
He’d never kissed anyone, never been kissed; the closest experience had been that one time Lu Xianqing’s finger had touched his lips, which had already flustered him. And now, so many people would watch…
He inhaled sharply several times to calm himself.
Half an hour later, Zhou Changjiang called for the next take.
Qin Sizheng knelt again. Lu Xianqing stretched back, and a bodyguard handed him a pale liquid resembling alcohol. Leaning slightly forward, he asked softly, “Can you drink?”
Chu Jing, kneeling, said, “I’ve already knelt, agreed to the conditions… I can…” and the cup was forced down his throat.
Qin Sizheng swallowed instinctively.
“Cut!” Zhou Changjiang rolled up the script to use as a megaphone. “Who told you to drink? Coughing it out is not allowed. Again!”
Kneeling on the hard floor, knees aching, Qin Sizheng felt the tension in the man’s gaze. He inhaled deeply to steady himself, lifted his head, and met Lu Xianqing’s eyes with a spark of defiance.
“Hey, I’ve knelt, agreed to the conditions… I can…” The cup approached again. He opened his throat, but the liquid went down harshly, and he coughed, spilling some along his chin.
Lu Xianqing watched him, his eyes going red with intensity. It reminded him of that night, when Qin Sizheng had truly been drunk and defenseless at home. That night he had done so much, and even now, he still didn’t know—thinking Lu Xianqing was a kind senior, a good teacher. Seeing him so full of gratitude and respect awakened a dark, voyeuristic satisfaction in Lu Xianqing—a sense of perversity fulfilled.
He lifted his hand, forcing Qin Sizheng’s chin up and pouring the rest of the cup down his throat. “Remember, you’re my dog now. Don’t look at me like that.”
Qin Sizheng lifted his head, grinning mischievously, showing the scar across his face like a tiny centipede. His defiance radiated straight into Lu Xianqing’s eyes.
“You better watch yourself, or your dog will bite you. I’m not tame—ever heard of a vicious dog? I’ll snap your neck in an instant.”
Ding Chenhai leaned down, lightly tapping his face with the cup, a small smile at the corner of his lips. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
“Cut!” Zhou Changjiang gave a thumbs-up. “Excellent. Lu Xianqing, take a break. Qin Sizheng, prepare for the next shot. After this, lunch. Let’s aim to finish this scene tonight. Everyone’s worked hard.”
Qin Sizheng hesitated, then accepted the hand extended before him, using it to stand. Zhou approached. “Next shot, you’re shirtless. More wildness in the arena scene.”
“Director… do I have to?”
Zhou assumed he was embarrassed. “No? If not now, you’ll have ten-plus kissing and bed scenes later—you won’t shoot those?”
Qin Sizheng pressed his lips together, torn.
Lu Xianqing’s voice came, lazy and impatient. “Wildness doesn’t need to be shirtless. A neat kid in full clothes fighting half-naked men—isn’t that more intense?”
Zhou thought it over. “Alright. Prepare.”
Qin Sizheng exhaled in relief. Once everyone had left, he looked gratefully at Lu Xianqing.
“Thank you, Fourth Brother.”
Lu Xianqing smiled softly, leaning close to his ear. “I’m the only one who’s seen this?”
Qin Sizheng’s cheeks flushed, embarrassed but he nodded lightly—he had known before, but since coming here, he was the only one who had seen it.
He had no idea how much a simple nod from Qin Sizheng stirred Lu Xianqing’s heart—almost enough to make him want to personally fasten the two custom cuffs onto him, watch him pull at them, hook them on his fingers while teasing him, pushing him toward losing control.
But.
“For whom did you fight? Or… just because you like him?”
Qin Sizheng’s breath came hot, and he couldn’t admit it had been for Lu Xianqing—so he silently admitted with a pang of shame: for love. Lu Xianqing’s voice was low, and being so close, it carried a subtle, enticing tone right into his ear.
“This time I saved you. Next time you have to strip, you know what to do?”
Qin Sizheng was confused. Lu Xianqing leaned down, speaking in a tone only meant for them two: “You’ll beg me to cover you—but… do you know how to hide it?”
Qin Sizheng hesitated. “With makeup?”
Lu Xianqing saw the innocence in his expression and let out a soft laugh. “With my hands.”
Qin Sizheng’s face turned crimson. Use his hands? That meant he’d be pinched into place, the idea of Lu Xianqing holding both sides in front of everyone… his knees nearly buckled.
“Pinched by me, or seen by the whole crew, even the world after release—choose.” Lu Xianqing stood straight, gaze resting on his chest, waiting.
Qin Sizheng bit his lip, torn inside, finally choosing the lesser embarrassment. He opened his mouth slightly.
Lu Xianqing’s eyes glimmered with amusement, but he pretended not to hear and had him repeat it.
Blushing, Qin Sizheng whispered, “I choose you.”
His hands would only hold for a moment; if the whole world saw, that would be unbearable.
Lu Xianqing, pretending not to understand or deliberately teasing, pressed further: “Choose me for what?”
Qin Sizheng, too shy to answer directly, ground his teeth. “You already know!”
Lu Xianqing’s eyes and brows curved with a dangerously enticing smile. “Oh? I’m not sure if what I think you mean is the same scale as what you said.”
“Talk about it later, in the room!” Zhou Changjiang barked, noticing them. “Lu Xianqing, enough! Qin Sizheng, come over here!”
Qin Sizheng seized the lifeline and hurried over. Zhou said, “Next scene doesn’t need too much emotion—just fight. Don’t hold back; use everything you’ve got.”
His opponents were several burly, sweaty men—surely a tough match. Zhou had originally planned to use a stunt double, but seeing Qin Sizheng’s earlier performance, he changed his mind—real actor, real fight.
“The camera will do close-ups, but not many extreme close-ups. Focus on your desperate eyes. Right now, you’re not fighting for Ding Chenhai—you’re fighting for Xihua Street.”
Qin Sizheng nodded; he knew what that meant.
After being forced to drink earlier, the makeup artists touched him up. Half an hour later, he was in position. Qin Sizheng knew the signal—standing on the platform, he gave Zhou a gesture.
“Between Good and Evil, Scene One, Take Three! Action!”
He clenched his fists, facing the first muscular man. Winning meant clearing Xiao Yu’s debt and reclaiming his freedom from that man. Three months’ freedom sold, serving as his “dog.”
Qin Sizheng’s eyes were resolute. He made a taunting gesture and launched punch after punch, not afraid despite the danger, full of fighting spirit.
Filming was different from actual matches; pacing and expression mattered. He held back slightly, not rushing to “win” immediately.
“Cut!”
Zhou Changjiang frowned. “Why’s the rhythm so messy? Several punches nearly hit the face. Qin Sizheng, what’s going on? Got distracted by compliments?”
Qin Sizheng panicked, instinctively glancing for Lu Xianqing—he wasn’t there.
“Keep your eyes focused! Don’t misjudge the distance. Hit at your pace. Ready, again!”
“Between Good and Evil, Scene One, Take Three, Again! Action!”
Following his own rhythm, Qin Sizheng unleashed everything. He “defeated” the first opponent in just over a minute.
Zhou Changjiang furrowed his brow. Just now he’d been told to slow down—was this payback? So fast!
The second opponent stepped up, same swift battle.
This was gladiatorial combat, not ordinary boxing—continuous rounds until the opponent fell. The makeup team touched him up between fights; from pristine to bruised and bloodied at the corners of his eyes and mouth, Qin Sizheng had won his first match.
“Cut!” Zhou paused. The assistant asked, “Count this take? Short duration, but beautiful. If we slow it or add more exchanges, we lose tension.”
Zhou considered carefully, then decided: “Keep it!”
Qin Sizheng exhaled. Zhou said, “First, lunch. Tonight’s major scenes are Lu Xianqing’s; watch him closely and learn—it’ll help you.”
Qin Sizheng nodded eagerly. He hadn’t planned to leave anyway—both to learn from Lu Xianqing’s acting and because he worried about him, due to Lu Xianqing’s night blindness.
The crew’s boxed meals were decent, though Lu Xianqing was notoriously picky, never eating on set. It was customary for him to fetch food outside.
An Ning had already prepared it. Coming back to the lounge, Lu Xianqing was on his phone. She called twice with no response, then peeked over—heart nearly stopped.
He was chatting with the video editor lady he’d contacted last time, and she’d already sent over the finished cut. The title wasn’t finalized yet, so she just used a placeholder:
“Yandere CEO and Innocent Male College Student, Slurp”
An Ning froze: “……”
The background music was a foreign song, with a sultry, rhythmic voice that alone carried a sense of desire. Coupled with the visuals, it matched perfectly; occasional gasps were almost genius touches.
An Ning looked down at it for a moment. The story roughly went: a morally corrupt, domineering CEO becomes infatuated with a hardworking college student delivering takeout. The student delivers desserts to him every day, as requested.
The CEO doesn’t eat himself, letting the student enjoy the treats while he watches, occasionally talking to him, eyes fixed on the contrast of white cream and crimson lips.
“Drink some water,” he’d pour for him, then instinctively wiped the corners of his mouth—frightening the student, who apologized properly: “Sorry, I can’t eat these, but the company girls like them. You’re just sampling, I hope you don’t mind?”
The college boy, pure to the core and completely straight, didn’t grasp the look in the CEO’s eyes, shaking his head: “Don’t mind.” One dessert cost three thousand; that covered a month of takeout deliveries.
Not taking the money would be foolish.
The yandere CEO handed him the cup, turned, and licked the cream that had brushed his hands, wanting desperately to taste it from the boy’s mouth.
With the boy’s saliva, it would taste even better.
The student finished, wiped his mouth, and said goodbye: “Will you order from me again tomorrow?”
The CEO smiled: “As long as you want to.”
But the next day, the student didn’t come. The staff delivering wondered why, and the CEO found out that jealous coworkers had cornered him, beating him until his hands were fractured.
At the hospital, the boy was surprised to see the CEO: “Brother, you came?”
The CEO smiled gently, letting him rest. Soon, the student received a text: the people who attacked him were now partially paralyzed in the hospital.
He was stunned. From that day, the CEO came every day with desserts, feeding him personally if he couldn’t use his hands. The boy, cautious though not naive, eventually asked: “Do you… like me?”
The CEO admitted it: “Yes.”
“I’m straight,” the boy said, disgusted, pushing away the cake. The CEO’s expression darkened immediately, gripping his neck tighter: “No disgust.”
“Did you have them beaten?” the student asked sharply.
The CEO calmly admitted it: “Yes. They hurt you, so they pay a hundredfold. Fair. Those who hurt me should pay this price. Don’t worry—no one will dare harm you again.”
“But this is criminal! I don’t need your protection! You scare me! You disgust me! Leave! I’ll repay you!”
The CEO gripped his neck, violating him in the hospital bed, but never finishing; he noticed the tears at the boy’s eyes, and with longing and gentleness, licked them all away—more terrifying than the act itself. The boy struggled desperately but couldn’t break free.
He was both perverse and tender, domineering and unyielding. Over time, he forced the boy to yield, yet withdrew afterward.
The boy carried the desserts to the CEO’s office, placing them down with tears streaming: “You’ve made me a monster. You can’t not want me.”
The CEO, taken aback, held him and wiped his tears: “I’ll never stop wanting you. Don’t cry.”
The boy rested against him and whispered: “Why haven’t you asked me to deliver lately? Did you hire someone else? Is it about the money?”
The CEO smiled: “So it’s about the money, huh?”
“Not at all!”
He leaned into the boy’s neck: “I fear your pain, I fear losing you. If you’ll have me, I’m forever yours—dead, still yours.”
The video cut at the most tantalizing moment. An Ning, already fond of Qin Sizheng, felt a flutter even watching it.
Lu Xianqing knew exactly how to control tension and dramatic climax, layering emotions and explosions perfectly.
He told the editor: “Cut the later hospital scenes, make it cleaner.”
An Ning, surprised: “Finally concerned about your image—Sister Xingxing could die peacefully now.”
Lu Xianqing didn’t even look up: “Do I really need to maintain an image?”
“Eh?”
Replying to the editor, he added: “Make him look amazing, but no one should fall for him.”
Editor: “? Make him look amazing, but no one should fall for him? That’s impossible—I don’t want your money anymore, kill me instead.”
Lu Xianqing: “Maintain distance. Make him feel untouchable. Show that only he and I are inseparable. Hard? Not at all.”
The editor nearly cried—impossible!
Still, every script he gave her was compelling, so she couldn’t resist. She sent an “OK” emoji: “Got it, Qing Shan has Sizheng yyds!”
Lu Xianqing, satisfied, sent the payment and added: “Next episode, I want a spoiled little general. Very special—climbing, throwing tantrums on my head. Too hot, too cold, needs to be hugged to sleep, fed at meals, complains about wrists while holding bowls. So spoiled it makes you want to hit him. Only I can endure him, hold him in my palm, cherished little prince.”
“Editor Sis”: “OK! Just trust me!”
Within minutes, she sent over the link to the newly uploaded video. This time it was completely clean—no explicit content—but the tension was just as strong.
After watching it, Lu Xianqing asked, “Why does it only have ten thousand views? Are you losing your edge?”
“Editor Sis”: “It has only been three minutes!!!”
Lu Xianqing gave an “Oh,” told her to hurry up and start editing the next one, then wandered around the super topic to see if there was any new fan content to enjoy.
Instead, he spotted a very disharmonious post.
“People are shipping Lu Xianqing and Qin Sizheng this hard? Is Qin’s side hyping this up on purpose?”
An Ning stood beside him, barely holding back laughter. If only they knew—Lu Xianqing himself was the biggest fan account of the Qing Shan You Si pairing.
Since Between Good and Evil had an original source novel, fans found it even easier to ship. Many had already begun editing videos and writing fan fiction for Chu Jing and Ding Chenhai’s pairing.
Lu Xianqing tapped into that post. An Ning immediately pressed down on his hand.
“Do not repost it, do not comment! I will handle it. I will ask He Xing to block it and make it disappear from the super topic feed!”
Lu Xianqing turned to look at him. An Ning met his eyes and nodded.
“One minute.”
An Ning practically leapt up to grab his phone, quickly called He Xing, and concisely explained the situation. By the time he returned, Lu Xianqing was no longer staring at that post. An Ning let out a relieved breath.
Afraid that a few more minutes with his phone would lead to another disaster, An Ning knocked on the table.
“Gentle General, can we eat now? If we wait any longer it will get cold. After you finish eating, you may bestow your favor upon these posts. All right?”
Lu Xianqing tossed his phone aside, glanced at the dishes in front of him, and said, “Why did you buy so much? We cannot finish it.”
An Ning looked bewildered. “? You were the one who told me to buy this much. Did you lose your memory?”
Lu Xianqing did not respond directly. He murmured as if to himself, “My little drama king probably has not eaten yet. Have him come over and eat with us. It would be a waste otherwise.”
An Ning: “…Oh.”
Lu Xianqing added, “Why is this dressing room so big? It feels uncomfortable, all empty like this.”
An Ning blinked. “Big? It is much smaller than the one you had before. Do you think something is missing? I can arrange for someone to get it.”
Lu Xianqing said faintly, “It is missing a person.”