The male planner was a full head shorter than Pei Tingsong, making him seem particularly insignificant in front of him. He could only smile awkwardly and say, “Ah… nothing, I just feel a little sorry.”
“Is that so?” Pei Tingsong smiled innocently, “Why is it a pity for a boy to be handsome? I don’t quite understand that logic. Does that mean only those who aren’t good-looking deserve praise?”
It was a friendly question, but the planner’s back was already drenched in cold sweat. He had just witnessed the young male idol’s influence—even the renowned photographer had to give him some face. “That’s not what I meant…”
“I understand what you mean.” Pei Tingsong released his hand from the planner’s shoulder. “There’s nothing to be sorry about if a boy is good-looking. Being good-looking doesn’t necessarily mean something ‘bad’ will happen. That’s what you wanted to say, right?”
“Yes, yes.”
Pei Tingsong nodded solemnly, “That’s good. Our views are quite similar.” He said with a sigh of relief, “I thought there would be some lowbrow, uncultured straight guy’s remarks, and I was ready to draw my sword, but it turns out you’re on my side.”
“Then I’ll put my sword away to avoid accidental injury.” Pei Tingsong smiled, “I’m known for being a troublemaker. I don’t hold back.”
After saying that, he put his hands in his pockets and turned to leave.
After hearing all this, the two staff members were already sweating profusely. Most people in the industry knew that Pei Tingsong wasn’t someone to mess with, especially now that he was famous. They had assumed that Pei Tingsong was truly at odds with Fang Juexia, as rumored, and never expected him to intervene. However, they did not want to lose their jobs over gossip, so they reluctantly accepted the situation and retreated to the side.
As the sky grew darker, the orange-yellow sunset sank into the spruce grove, and the snow glowed in the twilight.
Pei Tingsong warmed up and took a few steps toward the filming location, where he saw Fang Juexia, wearing a black sweater, walking forward under Lin Mo’s guidance.
“Good, turn your head and smile.”
At that moment, he saw Fang Juexia turn her head, her smile brighter than the snow.
Stepping on the snow, he walked closer, his gaze seemingly beyond his conscious control, tracking Fang Juexia’s figure through the gaps in the crowd.
His entire body was covered in snow, his face glowing with a vivid reddish hue under the snowlight and sky light. When he looked up, the red at the corner of his eye extended outward like a wound. His clear eyes were half-covered by snow-white eyelashes. In the close-up shot, the snow reflected off his moist eye sockets, giving them a transparent quality, like ice that had not yet melted.
Lin Mo guided him from the side, “Go further in, Juexia.”
Fang Juexia followed his instructions, stepping deeper into the snow-covered forest until she was stopped in front of a spruce tree.
Pei Tingsong followed suit, unsure why he was doing so. Perhaps it was curiosity, like when he was a child and wondered if the cross-section of a dead branch still held life.
Photographers always spoke in abstract terms. Fang Juexia didn’t know what kind of feeling he was describing; he only felt confused. This was an unfamiliar pose. What was it like to be imprisoned? What were instincts like? He couldn’t understand.
Pei Tingsong walked over to Lin Mo’s side and looked at him from Lin Mo’s perspective.
“Look this way, that’s right.”
Fang Juexia’s gaze met that of another person.
Pei Tingsong’s gaze shifted away from the lens and looked up at him in the distance. Those beautiful eyes stared straight at him as always, with the last resistance of a withered branch.
“Yes, that’s it.” ” Lin Mo’s voice carried a hint of surprise as he quickly seized the opportunity to take a few shots and check the results.
In the picture, Fang Juexia’s figure was half-hidden by a dark tree trunk, his left half of his face calm, with a red birthmark being the only color in the black and white. The exposed eye emitted a clear light, like a pool of moonlight in a frozen pond.
This was the rare emotion Lin Mo had mentioned, the last struggle of winter before falling into the trap.
But this struggle is nothing more than a thin layer of fragile ice, easily shattered with a gentle touch. Once the warm current arrives, winter will have no place to hide. He can only be forced to melt, peel away his layers, and reveal his true form.
“Why aren’t you speaking?”
Pei Tingsong was so engrossed that he snapped back to reality and nodded, “Yes, it’s good. He’s very suitable.”
Pei Tingsong couldn’t deceive himself into linking the person in front of him with the rumors. Another voice arose in his heart.
Perhaps he had never truly believed those rumors. He was merely seeking a plausible reason to distance himself from this person, just as this person had distanced himself from him.
Whether this voice was right or wrong, he could no longer tell. Their mutual prejudices and stubbornness had already pushed them too far apart.
The last vestiges of daylight faded away. As the sunset plunged into the snow-covered forest, obscuring Fang Juexia’s back, Lin Mo captured the moment with his camera.
“Thank you for your hard work.” Fang Juexia bowed to the crew after finishing the shoot, then walked back in his down jacket, taking deep steps and shallow steps. When he reached Pei Tingsong’s side, he didn’t say another word.
Pei Tingsong felt a pang in his heart.
“Hey, you’re walking so fast, aren’t you afraid of falling?”
After saying that, he regretted it a little. It was as if he had taken the initiative to do something, as if he had been supporting Fang Juexia in his heart, accompanying him all the way back to the carport.
But the other person didn’t even turn his head. “Not fast.”
Back at the work shed, Fang Juexia stamped his feet while checking the footage he had shot. He had been frozen in the snow for too long, and his limbs were numb.
Pei Tingsong saw that his nose and ears were bright red from the cold, his cheeks were flushed, and he kept rubbing his hands together. He wanted to give him the hand warmer he had given him earlier. But when he reached into his pocket, it was warm, but the hand warmer was no longer hot.
“Don’t thank me. You’re very photogenic, and there are basically no bad shots. That’s rare. Plus, you have a unique aura. It’s a shame you’re not a model.”
Fang Juexia wasn’t good at socializing and didn’t like it either. Faced with so much praise, he wasn’t sure how to respond. He searched his sparse database like a robot, looking for words he could use.
Just as he was struggling with this, his hand was suddenly grabbed. Fang Juexia instinctively turned his head and saw Pei Tingsong standing beside him. His fingers, which had been frozen stiff, were suddenly enveloped in warmth.
It was Pei Tingsong who had grabbed his hand and slipped it into the warm pocket of his coat.
“I agree. I even took a couple of photos with my phone just now,” Pei Tingsong casually interjected. “The snowy scenery here is also beautiful, adding to the charm.” He then looked at Fang Juexia and asked with a smile, “Right?”
Fang Juexia hadn’t yet recovered from the surprise. “Um…”
“Your hand warmer has gone cold.” Pei Tingsong didn’t look at him as he spoke softly again, “Let’s settle for the next best thing.”
So that’s why.
Settle for the next best thing.
Fang Juexia repeated Pei Tingsong’s words in his mind. His thoughts were simple and straightforward, and he often couldn’t understand Pei Tingsong’s words at first, but that didn’t affect the chaos in his mind. His brain and heartbeat seemed to have formed their own systems, no longer connected.
His frozen fingers gradually regained sensation, and the warmth from the other hand seeped into his skin, surging through his capillaries and flowing to his fingertips.
That was another person’s body heat.
Every word Pei Tingsong spoke was like a trap glinting with cold light. He had grown accustomed to avoiding them, so he tried to break free each time, though it was always in vain.
As he hesitated to pull his hand back, Pei Tingsong had already released the hand gripping his wrist, leaving him no chance to escape.
In the cramped, warm pocket, two vastly different souls were挤挤挨挨地藏着.
After roughly confirming all the footage, there was no time to rest. Everyone ate something quickly in the car and immediately rushed to the location for the two-person shoot. Both had changed their outfits, wearing the same style of shirt—Pei Tingsong in black and Fang Juexia in white—though his was slightly too large, making it a bit loose.
The shooting location was simple: the studio floor had only a bed covered in white velvet, looking soft and inviting.
Fang Juexia was staring blankly at the bed when he heard Pei Tingsong joke with a casual tone, “I never thought my first bed scene would come so soon.”
He couldn’t laugh.
He couldn’t imagine how a double cover for a major magazine would be shot on a bed.
When he saw Lin Mo walking over, Pei Tingsong was full of curiosity and immediately asked, “What position should we use? Me and Brother Jue Xia.”
As soon as he said this, the prop team members who were following behind covered their mouths and laughed. Pei Tingsong was confused and looked at Fang Juexia with a puzzled expression. In certain situations, this boy who grew up abroad occasionally made puzzling remarks due to the mismatch of the situation, even though he had a high literary background and strong learning ability.
Fang Juexia didn’t know how to explain it, so he simply said, “You can’t use the word ‘position’ casually.”
Pei Tingsong asked innocently, “Why?” Fang Juexia didn’t want to respond because the camera crew was still following them, and he didn’t want to discuss adult topics and have them recorded on the show.
“Why?” Pei Tingsong asked again.
Fang Juexia sighed, “I don’t know. Don’t ask anymore.”
Pei Tingsong frowned, “You don’t know, so why are you criticizing me?”
Fang Juexia: “…”
Lin Mo didn’t have much time to discuss the pose with them. After discussing the lighting with the lighting technician, he called Fang Juexia over and asked him to lie down on the velvet bed. Fang Juexia was very professional and did exactly what the photographer asked him to do without saying a word.
“Lie on your side, facing this way, that’s right.”
After confirming Fang Juexia’s position, Lin Mo turned to Pei Tingsong and said, “You, turn around and lie down.” He even made a gesture to indicate turning around.
The surrounding staff burst into another round of ambiguous laughter. Pei Tingsong felt confused, but since it was work, he followed Lin Mo’s instructions.
“Pei, lower yourself down, closer. Your head should be near Juexia’s head. That’s right, both of you turn sideways, facing each other.”
Upon hearing the instruction to turn sideways, Fang Juexia, who was lying on his back, instinctively turned his face. However, the distance between them suddenly became too close, with his nose almost touching Pei Tingsong’s nose bridge. He immediately pulled back slightly, pretending nothing had happened.
They lay half-curled on their sides on the round velvet bed, their faces close together, facing each other.
“Not close enough.” Lin Mo stepped forward to adjust them personally. “I need the lines of your profiles to have a sense of harmony. If you compress this distance to the smallest possible, it should fit perfectly. Do you understand?”
Lin Mo was merely describing the effect he wanted to achieve, but such a description inevitably sparked imagination.
“Especially the straight line of the nose. I want them to be parallel here, but one is from top to bottom, and the other is inverted, from bottom to top.”
Pei Tingsong and Fang Juexia kept getting closer to each other as he asked, like two meteors moving toward each other along repelling trajectories. They were like Tai Chi, moving toward each other, but their bodies seemed to be extending in opposite directions. Opposites balance each other out, and opposites unite.
“Great, that’s it.” Lin Mo stepped away from the big bed and checked again, “Great, bring the props over.”
Pei Tingsong innocently asked, “Props?” Everyone around them laughed again, even Cheng Qiang helplessly placed his hand on his forehead.
Fang Juexia, who was closest to him, just wanted him to shut up.
The props team brought over a long green vine with what seemed to be flowers that had not yet bloomed, just tiny buds.
” What is this?” Fang Juexia reached out to touch it.
Before the staff could speak, Pei Tingsong answered on his own, “Honeysuckle.” Fang Juexia was slightly surprised by his unusual knowledge, “How do you know?”
“My family grew it in our garden when I was a child,” Pei Tingsong replied simply.
Honeysuckle.
Fang Juexia silently repeated the name in her mind, finding it quite charming. The charm lay in the conceptual fit, yet it seemed to go beyond that.
“I feel like a tree spirit.”
“Not at all, you’re a flower fairy.” Andy secured several clematis vines on Pei Tingsong’s head with hairspray, and his ears, shoulders, and arms were also adorned with flowers.
Lin Mo came over again to help them pose. “Little Pei, hold his neck with your hands.”
Pei Tingsong quickly understood his meaning and wrapped his arm around the back of his head, gripping his slender neck.
“Good,” Lin Mo stepped onto a chair, bent down, and took a photo. “Keep your expression natural and look at each other.”
After several attempts, the photos still didn’t capture the feeling Lin Mo was aiming for. He felt something was missing, “It’s not quite there yet. The tension isn’t enough. Xiao Pei, relax a bit first.”
For some reason, Fang Juexia thought of Rendao again, silently repeating the word “endure” in his mind, and a new thought arose. He sat up and looked at Lin Mo, “Mr. Lin, I have an idea.”
Cheng Qiang, who was standing nearby, was a little surprised that it was Fang Juexia who spoke up, not Pei Tingsong.
After all, in his limited memory, Fang Juexia was not the type of person to easily express his own opinions.
After being repeatedly rejected by Pei Tingsong several times, Lin Mo had already accepted this way of working. “Go ahead.”
“When I saw Winter Jasmine, it made me think of a question. It seems like we made an assumption at the beginning of filming.”
Pei Tingsong was still lying on the bed, looking up at Fang Juexia, who was sitting up. His words were logically sound.
“We have been assuming that in this restrictive relationship, it is Winter who is enduring, but what about Spring?”
From Pei Tingsong’s perspective, Fang Juexia’s eyes were looking upward, the light shining on them, his entire face glowing. “What if we break this prior condition and look at this relationship again?”
This statement came out so directly that Pei Tingsong’s heart skipped a beat.
What does spring endure?
Enduring the fear of losing what one has gained, enduring the frustration of not getting what one desires.
Enduring the fact that once you get close, you must watch helplessly as he melts away, losing his original form.
He had to admit that at this moment, he was emotionally swayed by Fang Juexia’s perspective. He was not a silent formula; his spirit was hidden in the rules of permutation and combination.
The resonance of inspiration between creators is silent. Lin Mo extended his index finger and pointed at Fang Juexia several times, “Yes, you’re right. This mutual emotion is right.”
Tension doesn’t necessarily mean the strained restraint and resistance of drawn swords; it can also be the emotional desire to draw near to ice and snow, while reason forces one to endure, knowing that rationality dictates avoiding warmth, yet unable to control the heart’s urge to rush toward spring.
Fang Juexia lay down once more.
Having already grasped the concept, Pei Tingsong did not reach out to grasp the back of his neck this time, but stepped back slightly. He extended his hand toward the side of his face. His fingers were long and clean. The tips exerted pressure, pulling on the veins on the back of his hand, creating an illusion of restraint.
Suddenly, Fang Juexia called out Andy’s name. When he came over, he asked, “Can his hands create frostbite makeup?”
“Frostbite?” Andy’s false eyelashes fluttered.
“Yes, but not just that,” Fang Juexia added. “Please wrap the honeysuckle vine more tightly, all the way up to my neck and chin. Then, Andy, please draw some small wounds on my neck and face, as if they were cut by the honeysuckle vine.”
“Sure!” Lin Mo nodded hurriedly before he could finish swallowing his coffee. “That’s great.”
“Why?” Pei Tingsong already had the answer, but he still wanted to ask.
Fang Juexia answered simply and matter-of-factly, “Only those who have paid the price can be called patient.”
He wasn’t just good-looking, Pei Tingsong had to admit.
Everything proceeded according to the plan they had discussed on the spot. Lin Mo was very satisfied. He needed to connect the solo scenes, so he scattered the petals of the previous scene’s hydrangeas between Pei Tingsong and Fang Juexia.
The camera focused on this scene, and he felt everything was in place. “Good, start.” His fingertips were just millimeters away from Fang Juexia’s, but they still did not touch. Even in a static photo, one could almost see his trembling hand.
Bound from below by the vibrant spring honeysuckle, as if it were weaving a green cage, Fang Juexia closed his eyes, his brows slightly furrowed, as if even breathing was exhausting.
The birthmark at the corner of his left eye was the only color on his face, resembling both a petal and a cruel scar. Across from him, Pei Tingsong had a similar mark at the corner of his eye, resembling a fallen cherry blossom.
When Lin Mo pressed the shutter,
Fang Juexia, with his eyes closed, revealed a subtle smile.
This photo was unsurprisingly immediately selected by the editor-in-chief as the cover, requiring no further consideration. Experience and instinct told him this was the best choice. Fortunately, this was Chun, who had long been consumed by possessiveness yet still clung to the last remnants of self-control.
Even more fortunately, this was Dong, who had been imprisoned and abused yet ultimately chose to succumb to his own desires.
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