The chat was a chaotic blur of shouting and excitement. Qin Sizheng’s scalp tingled; he wanted to refuse but couldn’t embarrass Lu Xianqing in front of so many people. He glanced at Shen Changfeng.
“I’ll ask the brand if it’s okay. Can you all wait a moment?”
Before he could finish, he saw the screen filled with willing responses, many with extra exclamation marks to emphasize enthusiasm.
Shen Changfeng quietly called Xu Zhao to explain the situation. While waiting for a reply, Lu Xianqing didn’t fully appear on camera, just sitting beside him, an arm visible.
Qin Sizheng felt a little awkward and casually responded to a few comments.
“Yes, while filming, I sometimes eat or rehearse with Fourth Brother since we live nearby. Not that… he’s a really good senior, and I respect him a lot.”
“I’ve learned a lot from him. Director Zhou is also great. As for Chen Qiu, he used to share a room with me. Now that the crew is more generous, he moved downstairs. Do you want to see him?”
Lu Xianqing sat beside him, brushing a finger near his mouth—how could someone mention another person right under his nose?
Was he asleep?
“Yanyan,” Lu Xianqing suddenly spoke. Qin Sizheng was startled and quickly turned to him. “What is it?”
Lu Xianqing reached toward the screen and pointed. “They’ve been asking forever—let’s tell them what we’re acting out.”
Qin Sizheng glanced at the comments and read instinctively: “Bao, I heard you’re playing a couple with Fourth Brother. Is that true? Will there be any… close scenes?”
Lu Xianqing propped his chin on his hand and looked at him. “Why aren’t you answering?”
Qin Sizheng felt like his face was bleeding. “Yes, we’re playing a couple. As for the plot, you’ll have to watch for yourselves. Uh… it’s got tension—shooting it was really fun.”
Lu Xianqing smiled. “Which scene was the most fun?”
Qin Sizheng wanted to cover his mouth to keep him quiet, so he wouldn’t stir up the comments.
Xu Zhao called back— the brand was overjoyed. They never imagined Lu Xianqing would ever help promote their product. Immediately, they said, “Yes, yes, yes,” as if afraid the god of wealth would change his mind.
Luckily, He Xing had already warned them that today’s livestream was just helping a friend, with no payment involved. They wouldn’t advertise any collaboration between Lu Xianqing and the brand.
Even so, the topic was already trending first on the charts. The livestream had broken the brand’s all-time peak online viewers.
Shen Changfeng nodded that it was okay. Qin Sizheng said, “I’ve confirmed with the brand—they’re fine with Fourth Brother joining the livestream.”
Lu Xianqing sat lazily at his side. “First time, no experience—please be patient with us.”
【Practice makes perfect. A few more times and you’ll be fine, we don’t mind.】
【First time ever… and I always think naughty thoughts.】
Qin Sizheng nervously sat up straight. That lipstick felt like a hot iron in his hand. His eyes kept darting toward Shen Changfeng, who hadn’t written any prompts.
“This is the last lipstick we’re recommending today—berry rose, very suitable for confident girls.” Qin Sizheng showed the case to the fans. Just as he was about to twist open the cap, someone reached for it.
“Fourth Brother?”
Lu Xianqing twirled the lipstick between his fingers, moving as fluidly as if playing a piccolo, glanced at the comments, and asked teasingly, “Shall I apply it for Bao? I’ve never used this either—what if I mess it up? You won’t hit me, right?”
“I can do it myself, Fourth Brother. No need to trouble you,” Qin Sizheng replied quickly.
【Don’t worry! Livestreams are about cooperation, just go ahead and do your thing.】
【I’ve tied my own hands—now I’m a qualified little chive. Please, you two, go ahead—I can’t control my wallet anymore.】
【Wow, I can already imagine it: little kite tilting his head while Fourth Brother applies lipstick, barely half a finger apart, leaning down and… I’ll be ahead of the curve.】
【Fourth Brother, be honest—have you applied lipstick for anyone before? You seem ridiculously familiar with the shades. Straight men aren’t supposed to focus on red only!】
“I really haven’t. I spend all day on set—if I stole the makeup artist’s job, she’d kill me. I don’t put on lipstick when I’m not filming, and I don’t get up at night to do it either.” Lu Xianqing laughed at the absurdity of the comments. “I have a few friends—didn’t you hear? Who would I apply it for? Ming Fei? Your imagination is clearly raised on Interstellar. Black holes have nothing on your brains.”
Qin Sizheng felt a sweet warmth rise in him. That meant he had no girlfriend, few male friends, even fewer people he was close to—and their bond seemed to surpass most others.
“If you keep egging him on, little kite is going to grab a stick and beat me out of here,” Lu Xianqing said, glancing at the boy beside him. “Control your little sister.”
“Don’t mess around,” Qin Sizheng said, his voice clear, tinged with coaxing warmth. The fans instantly melted, filling the screen with endless “ahhh”s, like a group of speechless patients.
“Yanyan, shall we start?” Lu Xianqing pinched the lipstick between his fingers, lightly rubbing it twice. Qin Sizheng couldn’t help but feel that the object under his touch was his own ear.
He just wanted this livestream to end. Forget shyness—he nodded resignedly.
Lu Xianqing reached over, pulling him in close. One hand gripped the back of his neck, tilting his head up; the other held the lipstick, bringing it down toward his lips.
Qin Sizheng’s breath caught. He barely dared to inhale as the creamy tip brushed against his lips, delicate as a tender lick.
Lu Xianqing lowered his head, long dark lashes brushing down. His expression was serious, as if the lipstick were a perfect work of art, and he was performing the final stroke.
Qin Sizheng instinctively clutched his shirt. “Fourth Brother… is it done?”
When he spoke, a streak of color traced his lip corner.
His fair skin made the deep berry hue pop even more.
“Oops, it’s messy,” Lu Xianqing chuckled, smudging the streak with his thumb, making it look like intentional battle-worn makeup.
“First time applying lipstick for someone—my technique isn’t great.”
Qin Sizheng, fearing he’d redo it, blushed and leaned away slightly. “No, it’s already perfect!”
【Bao, let’s be honest—Fourth Brother’s technique is messy, but even so, Bao looks amazing. It doesn’t affect my desire to buy!】
【Everyone, mark Fourth Brother’s ‘failure’ on the public board.】
【This looks even better than the first two! Qin Sizheng, the ultimate influencer—buying instantly!】
Shen Changfeng nervously stayed by, ready to pull the plug at any moment. Seeing Lu Xianqing act more restrained than on set, careful with words, and not overstepping, he gradually relaxed.
Qin Sizheng interspersed the presentation with coupon reminders—fans could get big discounts if they used them.
He Xing had also been monitoring the livestream, fearing the senior might misbehave—but watching now, she realized her worries were unnecessary. Lu Xianqing cared even more about Qin Sizheng’s image outside than she did.
When the livestream ended, Qin Sizheng exhaled deeply, turning to the bathroom to splash cold water and cool down.
Shen Changfeng knocked on the door. “Sizheng, I’ll head off first. After you finish eating, make sure to rest early.”
Qin Sizheng responded from inside, wiping his face and doing some mental preparation before stepping out. Lu Xianqing had already opened the takeout boxes and arranged them on the table.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
“I was planning to eat after the livestream, didn’t expect it to run so long…” Qin Sizheng trailed off, suddenly remembering and quickly turned to grab his phone.
“What are you looking for?” Lu Xianqing asked.
“I was going to eat with Chen Qiu after the livestream, but now I don’t know if he’s waiting… Qiu Qiu, have you eaten yet?”
Chen Qiu replied, “Not yet. Weren’t I waiting for you? When are you coming down?”
Qin Sizheng said, “Fourth Brother brought something over. If you don’t mind, come join us.”
There was a pause. “I suddenly realize I’m not very hungry. I’m a bit sleepy and tired, so I’ll skip it and eat tomorrow morning. Good night, Sizheng.”
Qin Sizheng stared at the ended call. “He usually loves to eat—how can he skip dinner?”
Lu Xianqing just smiled without answering. Qin Sizheng hesitated and sat down. Suddenly, a thought struck him. “You came so late… is there something you wanted to talk about?”
“Is having dinner with you not a reason?”
Qin Sizheng blinked. That’s it?
Lu Xianqing casually found an excuse. “Well, there is a little thing. He Xing told me she approached you about signing, but you refused. Why?”
Qin Sizheng hadn’t expected him to ask and froze for a moment.
Lu Xianqing continued, “Ming Fei’s reputation in the industry isn’t great, but he doesn’t push anyone unwilling. He only works on mutual consent and won’t touch his own artists. If that was your worry, it’s unnecessary.”
Qin Sizheng was even more surprised by his straightforwardness. “It’s not because of that.”
“Then why? You don’t think he’s good enough?” Lu Xianqing leaned back in his chair, holding the wine he brought. He sipped slowly, hands resting on the cup, waiting for an answer.
“How could it be that? Your company is excellent. I just feel I’m not worthy yet—maybe later, when I can match up, I’ll consider it.”
Lu Xianqing smirked internally. Did he really think signing with Ming Fei’s company was that simple? Even with his own effort, plus Xu Zhao and Sheng Yu being practically useless, it would be almost impossible for him to reach Ming Fei Entertainment’s doors in this lifetime.
“Qin Sizheng.”
Lu Xianqing rarely called him like that. Usually, it was “Yanyan” or “A Jing.” Suddenly, using both surname and given name, Qin Sizheng straightened nervously.
“Yes?”
No beating around the bush. “You don’t want to go to Ming Fei—then I’ll sign you. How about that?”
Qin Sizheng didn’t catch it at first. “What?”
Lu Xianqing handed him the wine glass. After a brief hesitation, Qin Sizheng poured some for him—but instead of taking it back, he lifted it to Lu Xianqing’s lips.
“I’m starting my own studio—sign you. You coming?”
Feeling the offer still needed more weight, Lu Xianqing added, “I’ll personally get you roles, plan your future career path—everything in the studio will be just for us. You in?”
Qin Sizheng was stunned. He was starting his own studio… and signing him?
He wanted to dash to the bathroom, splash cold water, and calm down before judging whether this was a joke.
The temptation wasn’t just in promising stardom—it was the word us. It felt like he’d drawn a circle, pulling Qin Sizheng inside, making him part of his world.
“I… need to think about it, is that okay?”
Lu Xianqing didn’t push. “Fine. But only one month. After this drama wraps, you need to give me your answer.”
Qin Sizheng nodded. “I’ll think seriously about it.”
Lu Xianqing thought to himself—he’s basically already considering it. He Xing really was losing her touch, getting a straight refusal.
“Qin Teacher,” Lu Xianqing lifted the glass to his lips again. “Your future boss says you drink this. Don’t, and I won’t give you any roles—you’ll be blacklisted.”
Qin Sizheng’s ears turned red. “Fourth Brother, you know I don’t drink. You drink yourself.”
“Planning to be blacklisted then?”
He knew Lu Xianqing was just teasing. Even if he signed, one glass wouldn’t get him shelved—but he didn’t want to disappoint him, so he took the glass.
Lu Xianqing withdrew his hand. “Just like that.”
Qin Sizheng lowered his head, placing his lips on the rim, and drank the strong liquor, aided by Lu Xianqing’s hand.
“Do you know what this is called?”
Qin Sizheng shook his head, expecting some drinking ritual explanation.
Lu Xianqing smiled. “Unspoken rules.”
Qin Sizheng froze, cheeks heating instantly. He buried his face in his food, mind drifting to news about such rules—some involving sexual abuse. He wondered if Lu Xianqing would ever do that.
Probably not. Lu Xianqing might tease, but his character was solid; he wouldn’t do such things.
Qin Sizheng stole a glance at him, inwardly scolding himself.
He had a low tolerance for alcohol—one glass would make him tipsy. When he woke in the morning, he felt groggy, unable to recall when he fell asleep.
But he remembered showering and changing—completely clean. Apart from… having another night of vivid dreams, nothing was wrong.
After washing up, Shen Changfeng arrived. They ran into Chen Qiu downstairs and headed to the set together.
“This scene finishes today. Tomorrow we’ll shoot a few extra warm daily life shots with Lu Xianqing. You’ll almost be done with filming.”
Qin Sizheng’s smile froze. Already almost done?
Zhou Changjiang patted his shoulder. “You have talent. Go back and study under a good teacher. Don’t rush chasing fame; it won’t last. Lu Xianqing is where he is because he can command the set and the crew stops when he says stop. Focus and cultivate your craft—you’ll reach that level too.”
Qin Sizheng didn’t catch the subtext in Zhou Changjiang’s words. Zhou, of course, couldn’t explicitly address the matter of his feelings for Lu Xianqing—he could only hint subtly. How much Qin Sizheng understood was up to his own perception.
After all, if Qin Sizheng were just trying to use Lu Xianqing to climb the ladder, that was not uncommon in the industry. Saying it out loud might offend both parties.
Seeing him lost in thought after finishing, Zhou Changjiang worried he might have spoken too bluntly. “What I mean is, I hope you can stay grounded, whether it’s in your career or in relationships. Be careful and deliberate.”
Qin Sizheng wasn’t thinking along those lines. “I understand.”
Zhou Changjiang flipped the script, bringing the discussion back on track. “In this scene, Ding Chenhai’s enemies are searching for his whereabouts. They exploit the people of Xihua Street, who are desperate to escape poverty, by offering secure housing and large sums of money, in exchange for turning over Chu Jing.”
“Driven by personal gain, they abandon morality and compassion, deceiving Chu Jing into the abandoned factory on the back mountain for a comfortable future.”
“Human morality can shift in an instant. The opposite of good is evil; anyone can become an executioner in a moment.”
“The people Chu Jing risked his life to protect ultimately hand him over for profit. Until his last breath, he doesn’t realize it was they who caused his death, still urging his family to escape.”
Qin Sizheng spoke up. “Being betrayed by your own family is the deepest pain. But Chu Jing’s greatest regret isn’t that—it’s never getting to see Ding Chenhai one last time.”
Zhou Changjiang was pleased with his insight. “Good, you’re picking up on a lot. Keep going.”
After a moment’s thought, Qin Sizheng continued, “He’s still glad. He wouldn’t want his family from Xihua Street—or even Ding Chenhai—to be captured. He’d rather it be himself. And he protected Ding Chenhai; in his heart, everything was worth it.”
“Chu Jing hopes for his safety, wishes him well—more than his own life.”
Zhou Changjiang nodded repeatedly. “Very good understanding. When you act this scene, make sure your emotions ebb and flow clearly. Aqing, do your best.”