After Dumping the Scumbag, I Ended Up with His "White Moonlight” - Chapter 2

11:00 PM

Shen Nian opened the door, reeking of alcohol. His steps were unsteady, a clear sign he had overindulged.

Qiu Yuyi had just finished his shower; his hair was still damp and dripping when he heard the commotion in the living room and hurried out.

“Brother Nian? Why are you back so suddenly?” Seeing Shen Nian swaying, he rushed to his side to support him.

“You, who are you?” Shen Nian’s eyes flew open as he struggled to identify the person in front of him. He stared intently at that exceptionally beautiful face with a flicker of hope, but the expectation was quickly replaced by sharp disappointment. “Oh. It’s just you.”

It’s just you? What was that supposed to mean? Qiu Yuyi blinked, but he didn’t have the luxury of time to analyze it.

“A gift.” Shen Nian handed him a small bag.

Startled, Qiu Yuyi took it and opened it to find a pair of cufflinks that looked a bit too mature for his style.

“The sponsor gave them to me. I thought they suited you the moment I saw them.”

Shen Nian took the cufflinks back, his speech slurred and heavy-tongued. “I, I’ll help you put them on.”

“Maybe next time.” Qiu Yuyi recoiled slightly from the stench of alcohol, his brow furrowing. “I’ve already changed into my pajamas. I’ll wear them tomorrow.”

Rebuffed, Shen Nian seemed to finally remember exactly who was standing in front of him. He straightened his posture, shrugged off his blazer, and tossed it carelessly into Qiu Yuyi’s arms.

“I’m going to shower. Iron my jacket, then send it to the dry cleaners tomorrow.”

Even though Qiu Yuyi had lived here for two years, he and Shen Nian still slept in separate bedrooms.

Shen Nian’s room had its own ensuite; soon after he entered, the sound of running water echoed through the wall. In the living room, Qiu Yuyi stared blankly at the jacket in his arms for a long time.

After a few minutes, he snapped out of it and slowly carried the blazer to his room to hang it up, planning to iron it once Shen Nian fell asleep.

He kept his ears pricked, listening to the movements in the next room. Five minutes after the sound of the hairdryer stopped, he finally worked up the nerve to knock on Shen Nian’s door.

“Is something wrong?” Shen Nian opened the door. The shower had sobered him up significantly, and he looked at Qiu Yuyi with a cold, detached expression.

Qiu Yuyi fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his voice hesitant. “I, there’s something I want to discuss with you, Brother Nian.”

Shen Nian’s brows knit together with impatience. “Just say it.”

“It’s just, I’m just idling at home every day.” Under Shen Nian’s icy gaze, Qiu Yuyi closed his eyes and forced the words out. “I want to start acting again.”

He finished and opened one eye slightly to gauge Shen Nian’s reaction.

Shen Nian’s gaze landed on him—chilly, devoid of any warmth.

Panicking at the silence, Qiu Yuyi stammered, “I can just look for small roles. Very few scenes. It wouldn’t take much time at all.” He added softly, “I, I really want to act. But if you don’t want me to, then I won’t—”

Shen Nian interrupted him coldly before he could finish. “Whatever.”

Then, with a sharp bang, he slammed the door shut.

Facing the closed door, Qiu Yuyi stood frozen, his expression unreadable.

The Next Afternoon, Sunny.

The outdoor seats of the café were sparsely occupied by people enjoying a rare moment of peace in their busy day.

“So, the Great Film Emperor actually agreed?” Su Yichen’s eyes widened in surprise.

Qiu Yuyi gave a listless “Mm.” He took a moody sip of his Iced Americano and immediately grimaced, his face scrunching up like a bun from the bitterness. He quickly shoveled a large spoonful of strawberry cake into his mouth to neutralize the taste.

“I told you not to order an Americano. You hate bitter things,” Su Yichen said, leaning his chin on his hand.

“But Brother Nian seems angry with me,” Qiu Yuyi said piteously once the sweetness took over.

Su Yichen rolled his eyes toward the ceiling.

Early this morning, Qiu Yuyi had called him out. When he arrived, Su Yichen had been genuinely shocked; Qiu Yuyi’s pale face was marred by two heavy dark circles, a clear sign of a sleepless night.

“If you ask me, Shen Nian is overstepping. You stopped taking roles for two whole years just for him, while he goes off and films two movies a year, spending six months on each set,” Su Yichen complained. “He says he’s worried that ‘two actors in a relationship’ would never see each other—but isn’t that what’s happening anyway? He won’t let you visit the set, and you just sit at home every day. You’re going to lose your mind.”

Su Yichen had long been dissatisfied with Shen Nian’s restriction on Qiu Yuyi’s career. The ages of twenty to twenty-two are incredibly precious for an actor, and Qiu Yuyi had wasted them on a man like Shen Nian.

“Don’t overthink it. Listen to me: since he agreed, I’ll pick out a few scripts and send them to you over the next few days.”

Qiu Yuyi nodded.

“Luckily, because of that drama a year ago, some small productions are still reaching out to you. Just go home and rest up. Wait for my good news.” Su Yichen patted Qiu Yuyi’s head affectionately.

Qiu Yuyi’s mood finally brightened, and he offered a sincere thank you.

He had met Su Yichen when he was eighteen—the darkest year of his life. Just as he received his acceptance letter to his dream university, he received news of his parents’ car accident. By the time he reached the hospital, they were both gone.

He endured the grief to handle the funeral and, after a month of agonizing, tore up his acceptance letter. His parents had left him with nothing but endless sorrow and a mountain of debt. Even the compensation from the driver wasn’t enough to cover it.

That autumn, he met the then-rookie manager, Su Yichen.

Su Yichen had just graduated and was full of passion when he joined his family’s company, Starry Media. The day he met Qiu Yuyi was his first day on the job.

Logically, as the young master of Starry Media, Su Yichen should have showered his only artist with resources. However, he had told his family he wanted no special treatment—give him what was fair, and nothing more. Furthermore, Qiu

Yuyi had refused to go on variety shows (the fastest way to gain fans), choosing instead to bury himself in film sets. Consequently, it wasn’t until last year that he finally made a splash in the industry.

In Su Yichen’s memory, the first time he saw Qiu Yuyi at the office, he saw: fair skin, light brown eyes, a delicate nose, and soft pink lips. He was wearing a crisp white shirt and gave a gentle smile that revealed two cute dimples. Su Yichen decided right then and there that he had to sign this boy.

Four years later, they were more like family than manager and artist.

When Qiu Yuyi decided to stop acting two years ago after paying off his debts, it was Su Yichen who negotiated with the company. While Qiu Yuyi remained idle, Su Yichen hadn’t stopped working, building a significant network of connections.

Though Su Yichen often scolded Qiu Yuyi for being a “love-brain,” he was relieved that his friend was finally ready to work again.

When Qiu Yuyi returned home, Shen Nian was already gone.

Looking at the cold, silent house, he forced a small smile and whispered, “I’m home.”

Naturally, there was no reply.

With a somber look, he turned on the TV to a random variety show just for the background noise and went to the bedroom to rest. In the living room, the TV echoed with canned laughter. Qiu Yuyi lay quietly on the bed with his eyes closed, appearing to sleep.

Su Yichen worked fast. In less than two days, he sent over three scripts, one of which was actually for a movie.

Among the TV scripts, one was for a male lead, but it was a nonsensical, “silly-sweet” campus drama riddled with plot holes. The other was for a tragic second male lead in a historical drama—a role very similar to the one that had made him popular, ending with him dying after taking a sword for the heroine.

Finally, Qiu Yuyi opened the movie script. It was titled The Blind, directed by a newcomer. The file only contained the scenes for the audition and a general plot outline. The role was the male lead’s half-brother who had autism. The screen time wasn’t extensive, but most of his scenes were opposite the protagonist.

Qiu Yuyi made his choice immediately. He messaged Su Yichen: “I want to try for ‘The Blind’.” A quick “OK” came back.

Su Yichen told him to prepare; the audition was set for Saturday at 10:00 AM.

Qiu Yuyi thought about texting Shen Nian to tell him, but his fingers hesitated. Remembering Shen Nian’s reaction the other night, he put the phone down.

I’ll tell him after I get the role, he thought.

Outside, the sky had turned completely dark.

The housekeeper was off today, so Qiu Yuyi ordered a random dinner on a delivery app. Then, he opened Weibo.

The #1 trending topic hit him immediately: #Xia Di’an Returns to China.

Qiu Yuyi froze and instinctively clicked on it.

The top post said that after two years of study, Xia Di’an was scheduled to return next week. The comments were filled with fans cheering; his popularity clearly hadn’t waned despite his long absence.

Xia Di’an had gone abroad immediately after his temporary group disbanded, disappearing almost entirely. Only occasional blurry photos from passersby at his university had kept his name alive. Even in those blurry shots, his looks were undeniable.

In an industry where new idols emerge every day, Xia Di’an—a top-tier star—had chosen to leave at the height of his fame to improve himself. Qiu Yuyi couldn’t help but admire that.

He scrolled a bit more and then exited the app, failing to see a new private message that had just arrived.

[XY: I’m back.]

“Brother Xia, I’ve sent all the luggage back to China!” Xiao Miao ran back, panting. His face was flushed red, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead.

Xia Di’an didn’t answer. Instead, his gaze was fixed intensely on a photograph in his hand.

The photo featured a boy of sixteen or seventeen wearing a high school uniform. Bathed in sunlight, the boy was eating; his fair, tender cheeks were puffed out like a little hamster’s, and his smile was radiant and pure.

Seeing that Xia Di’an was lost in thought and wasn’t going to reply, Xiao Miao gave a silent pout. Knowing that “Brother Xia” wouldn’t acknowledge him for at least another twenty minutes, he turned away to do a final check of their belongings.

Xia Di’an’s fingertips gently traced the boy’s face in the photo.

Soon, we will finally meet.

Back at the hotel near the film set, Shen Nian had just finished his shower. He picked up his phone to call Qiu Yuyi, but then he remembered the conversation from two days ago about the boy wanting to resume acting. He changed his mind, deciding to give Qiu Yuyi the cold shoulder for a while.

He was well aware that Qiu Yuyi was a gifted actor. But, so what?

He had never searched for a “boyfriend”; he wanted a puppet—one that stayed home and followed orders.

He opened his pinned chats on WeChat. The last conversation with the person at the top had ended years ago. He clicked the profile picture and entered their Moments feed.

The latest update was posted today: “I’m back.”

A single, simple sentence was all it took to instantly lift Shen Nian’s spirits.

A smirk played on Shen Nian’s lips as he texted his manager, Xu Sen: “Clear my schedule for next Monday.”

“There’s a very important gala next Monday night,” the reply came almost instantly.

“Cancel it. I have something important to do that day.”

Though his body was exhausted from filming, his mind was racing.

Two years. Shen Nian remembered everything clearly: the way that person sang, the way he danced, the gentle look in his eyes when he spoke, and the slight furrow of his brow when he was unhappy.

Even though that person had ignored his advice two years ago and insisted on going abroad and hadn’t contacted Shen Nian once since, Shen Nian’s feelings remained.

He was frustrated enough to grit his teeth, yet he couldn’t stop wondering if the man was doing well abroad, if anyone was bullying him, or if he was adjusting to the food.

It was a battle of wills. Shen Nian hadn’t called him once in those two years either. Instead, he had found himself a “little boyfriend”—someone just as beautiful, but far more obedient.

Right. The little boyfriend.

Shen Nian opened his eyes, finally remembering Qiu Yuyi.

He frowned. Over the past two years, Qiu Yuyi had indeed been the perfect fit. Beyond the beautiful face and those eyes that made Shen Nian’s heart skip a beat, the boy never made a scene when Shen Nian was too busy for him. He wasn’t like the others Shen Nian had dated—he never nagged or bombarded him with clingy texts and calls.

Every time Shen Nian returned, Qiu Yuyi would simply stand there, looking at him with a quiet, gentle smile.

It often gave Shen Nian the illusion that he was the one looking back at him.

However, Shen Nian rubbed his temples.

A substitute is, after all, just a substitute. Now that the real thing was back, it was time for things between him and Qiu Yuyi to come to an end.

Author’s Note:

Before the Breakup:
Shen Nian: “I wouldn’t love you even if I were blind. You can get lost now.”

After the Breakup:
Shen Nian: “I was blind. Please, come back to me.”