After I Started Dating the Scum Gong Substitute, the White Moonlight Returned - Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The suburbs were far from the city. A-Sheng had waited for Cheng Jianyu for a long time; the once brightly colored, steaming seafood had faded and grown cold, looking completely unappetizing.

Cheng Jianyu put the dishes into the microwave one by one to heat them up and set them on the table. A-Sheng had also ordered a red velvet strawberry cake, warm and lovely—with an expired “Happy Birthday” written on a black card with gold speckles.

He took two symbolic bites, put down his chopsticks, and touched the food no more.

Two years ago, during a gathering with friends, he had discovered for the first time that he had a seafood allergy. Tiny red rashes had broken out behind his ears and on his back; at the time, Jiang Yan had joked that he looked like a dish of “Lychee Pork.”

“Sister-in-law, Brother Jiang said you can choose whatever you like.” A-Sheng spread several luxury magazines in front of Cheng Jianyu. “See which gift you like?”

Cheng Jianyu lowered his head. The smell of smoke in the air made his temples throb with a faint pain. He pinched the bridge of his nose and quietly flipped through a few pages. The pages were filled with glittering jewels and piles of gold and jade, all the latest limited-edition accessories from international brands. When it came to giving gifts, Jiang Yan was always generous.

“You can buy everything you like,” Jiang Yan said, leaning lazily against the back of his chair, lightly exhaling a cloud of smoke.

Cheng Jianyu flipped to the last page. His protruding knuckles tightened as he pressed down on the magazine. Beside him, A-Sheng was breaking into a cold sweat from anxiety, looking at him expectantly. “Sister-in-law, is there nothing you like?”

“No.” Cheng Jianyu opened his phone and pulled up a photo. It was a picture of an old magazine: a Western male model wearing a well-tailored suit with white shirt sleeves rolled up, casually raising his arm. A silver cufflink shimmered under deliberately dim lighting.

A circle of tiny golden rose vines hung around the cufflink, exquisitely crafted. In the center was a sharp-edged letter, with a delicate hollowed-out design by the creator. It was the “British Gentleman” style popular many years ago quite handsome, but already out of fashion.

“I want this,” Cheng Jianyu said, handing over the phone.

A-Sheng took a photo of it, knowing better than to ask unnecessary questions. “Sister-in-law, this might be out of print. I’ll go ask around.”

Cheng Jianyu said softly, “Thank you.”

A-Sheng was overwhelmed by the unexpected favor. In all the time he’d known Cheng Jianyu, this was the first time he’d heard the man say “thank you.” It was truly strange.

Jiang Yan tilted his head back slightly, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing. Amidst the swirling smoke, his silhouette was sharp. “Consider this compensation. Pick a place you want to go; when I have time, we’ll go on vacation together.”

This wasn’t an act of guilt seeking to make amends, but rather a reward for Cheng Jianyu not making a scene over the matter.

“Mm, okay.” Cheng Jianyu nodded submissively. Jiang Yan tossed aside his cigarette butt, pulled a new one from the pack, and picked up his lighter. Just as he was about to flick it, his index finger resting on the metal casing paused abruptly.

Under the dining table, Cheng Jianyu’s feet had slipped out of his slippers. One nimble foot glided up Jiang Yan’s calf, coming to rest lazily on his knee. Jiang Yan turned his head. The ankle usually hidden from the light was a translucent white; the heel bone protruded in a crescent shape, thin but not fragile. Further up, the calf swathed in stiff denim was long and straight, the muscle rounded and firm, a masterpiece of nature.

Cheng Jianyu’s other foot was also bare, leisurely tapping a rhythm on the floor.

A-Sheng sat not far away, making calls to brand suppliers, completely unaware of what was happening.

Cheng Jianyu blinked at Jiang Yan. Jiang Yan gave a low laugh, clearly enjoying this display of charm. He was curious: Cheng Jianyu had a simple social circle, so where had he learned such things?

Could it be self-taught?

“A-Sheng, it’s getting late. You head back first.” Jiang Yan dropped the lighter and leaned back relaxedly in his chair.

The front door of the living room closed. A snow-white chandelier hung above the dining table, the interplay of light and shadow creating an atmosphere of lingering romance.

Cheng Jianyu held the handle of a spoon, stirring the lemon water in his glass. Looking at the bowls and plates on the table, he began to quietly pull his foot back, only to have his ankle seized by a warm hand. It was pulled back forcefully. Jiang Yan scrolled through work emails on his phone with one hand, while the other unhurriedly toyed with his ankle.

“My leg is sore.” Cheng Jianyu struggled slightly, but the hand on his ankle tightened as if in a contest, gripping the shin bone until it hurt a warning not to resist.

Cheng Jianyu squeezed his fingers together. After a few seconds, he asked softly, “How long are you resting this time?”

Jiang Yan’s career was at its peak, his work endless and frantic. Usually, seeing Cheng Jianyu twice a month was considered a lot. This time, contrary to his usual pattern, he had stayed home for a week.

During this week, the number of times Cheng Jianyu bathed had risen sharply. Several times, he had just finished cleaning himself when Jiang Yan would leave him in a mess again.

Jiang Yan’s desire was as strong as his personality; both were things Cheng Jianyu could hardly endure.

Jiang Yan lifted his gaze from his phone and asked nonchalantly, “So eager for me to leave?”

Cheng Jianyu met Jiang Yan’s eyes. His back, pressed against the chair, felt sore, and his legs felt weak. He shook his head as if nothing were wrong.

Jiang Yan figured he wouldn’t dare. The ankle beneath his fingers was lean and bony, covered by a thin layer of delicate skin. That small patch of cool skin had already been rubbed warm by his touch.

His finger felt like 17th-century sealing wax, stamping its mark upon a precious possession.

This strange thought pulled the strings of his heart tight and then suddenly released them. His chest felt as rowdy as the African savannah, with a herd of elephants stampeding across it; he desperately needed to do something to alleviate this restlessness.

Jiang Yan slowly withdrew his hand. Cheng Jianyu breathed a sigh of relief and immediately stood up, downing the water on the table in one gulp. A shallow dimple appeared on his left cheek. Just as he was about to say goodnight, Jiang Yan tilted his chin up and hooked a finger. “Come here.”

Dragging his weak legs, Cheng Jianyu obediently sat astride his lap. Jiang Yan pulled his firm waist close, unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt one by one.

Sounds that would make one blush echoed in the large dining room. At the height of passion, Jiang Yan leaned into his ear, breathing heavily and maliciously, whispering word by word, “You really are a piece of ‘Feng Shui’ treasure land.”

…

After everything ended.

Cheng Jianyu lay exhausted on the bed, his head resting on Jiang Yan’s arm. He asked in a small voice, “When should I help you pack your luggage?”

“No need. My concert preparations have started; I’ve pushed back all other work recently.” Jiang Yan withdrew his arm and picked up his phone to send a WeChat message to his manager, Brother Chao.

He told Brother Chao to accept the offer for the show Let’s Go on a Trip Together. Cheng Jianyu was so well-behaved; it was time to give him formal status.

Cheng Jianyu pursed his lips slightly. After a few seconds, he sighed, “Mm… that’s good.”

…

The matters at Bei Xinhong’s studio were nearing an end. Cheng Jianyu followed the company’s procedures to complete the final steps of his resignation.

In theory, Cheng Jianyu didn’t need to go to the studio to work anymore, but things didn’t go as planned. Early in the morning, a storm of phone calls rescued him from Jiang Yan’s embrace.

Nanka Media was a giant in the investment world, a leader among clients. A few months ago, they had commissioned a modern suspense mystery script from Bei Xinhong’s studio. After half the draft was submitted, there had been no news.

A company like Nanka received tens of thousands of scripts a year; very few actually went into production. Just as Bei Xinhong was about to forget the script, Nanka sent a decree recently, ordering the script to see the light of day again.

It was the “golden egg” still unfinished in Cheng Jianyu’s hands.

Today, Nanka Investment had sent a producer, who arrived at the studio along with Director Liang Qiu for a small seminar. Director Liang Qiu had long admired Bei Xinhong’s reputation and wanted to meet the “talent” and discuss the script.

Normally, Bei Xinhong wouldn’t deign to give Cheng Jianyu such an opportunity for public exposure and networking. This time, out of necessity, he briefly allowed Cheng Jianyu a seat at the conference table.

Cheng Jianyu arrived late. Outside the meeting room, Chen Kai looked nervous and mouthed, “Brother Yu, be careful.”

“It’s fine.” Cheng Jianyu smiled and patted his shoulder. The tension in Chen Kai’s heart relaxed. He pushed open the door; the room was full of people, all of whom turned to look at Cheng Jianyu.

“Sorry I’m late.” Cheng Jianyu sat in the empty seat next to Bei Xinhong. Chen Kai flipped open a laptop and placed it before him.

Bei Xinhong gave a fake smile. “This is my assistant.”

Around the circular table sat the Nanka producer, the sixty-year-old but energetic Director Liang Qiu, and… Zhou Jueqing, who was playing the male lead.

Five years had passed since the two had last met.

Five years ago, one was a fledgling, sharp-edged, and highly-regarded rising star screenwriter, while the other was an obscure, unheard-of bit-part actor. Five years later, one was a screenwriter with no connections and no value waiting for employment, while the other was a red-hot idol with powerful financial backing.

Time had passed, and the world had turned upside down.

Zhou Jueqing wore a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, with a small mole like a grain of rice near the corner of his mouth. He possessed a feminine and elegant temperament, much like a noble gentleman from a Republican-era drama. From the moment Cheng Jianyu entered, his gaze was fixed on him until Cheng Jianyu took his seat.

Several minutes passed, and Cheng Jianyu didn’t give him a single direct look.

The producer briefly introduced Nanka’s situation. The script commissioned from Bei Xinhong’s studio was titled Please Kill Me Gently.

A story about love and revenge.

The script suited Director Liang Qiu’s taste perfectly.

An old-school intellectual with deep academic and cultural roots, Liang Qiu viewed filmmaking as a pursuit of life’s value, putting in heart, soul, and blood. The delicate emotions in Please Kill Me Gently and its reflections on youth perfectly satisfied his artistic pursuits.

Because of Liang Qiu’s high regard, the producer also looked favorably upon Bei Xinhong, the “Golden Pen” of the industry. During the conversation, he repeatedly sought Bei Xinhong’s opinions.

Bei Xinhong put on a show of professional jargon but avoided mentioning specific plot details. Liang Qiu grew impatient, flipped through a few pages of the script, and asked directly, “Mr. Bei, in the seventh scene, why does Huo Jing’s father tell him to be careful on his way out? According to the previous foreshadowing, their relationship is not good.”

Bei Xinhong was tongue-tied. He hesitated with an “Um…” and looked pleadingly at Cheng Jianyu. Cheng Jianyu looked at the laptop screen, giving everyone a cold profile, and remained silent.

“This… I might have remembered it wrong.” Bei Xinhong gave a dry laugh. He had to rely on Cheng Jianyu’s ability, yet he desperately wanted to strangle him for not giving him face.

Liang Qiu frowned. Script details were no small matter; how could such a thing be misremembered? “Are you sure you remembered wrong?”

The smile on Bei Xinhong’s face stiffened. He steeled himself and nodded. “I remembered wrong. You can delete that line!”

“It can’t be deleted.” Cheng Jianyu looked up, his eyes devoid of emotion. He said matter-of-factly, “In the fifth scene, after Huo Jing returns home from his revenge, his shoes are covered in dust the next day. That’s because his father discovered the bloodstains on his shoes and went out wearing them to help him clean up the crime scene. His father knew what his son had done all along.”

Cheng Jianyu turned to look at Bei Xinhong, speaking indifferently, “Teacher Bei, have you forgotten the foreshadowing you planted?”

Bei Xinhong’s face turned pale with guilt and embarrassment. However, he was an old hand after all. He laughed loudly in front of everyone. “Look at my memory! I’m so busy usually that I even forgot my own foreshadowing. Xiao Yu, your memory is still the best. I’m getting old; I really can’t compare!”

Hearing Cheng Jianyu’s explanation, Liang Qiu felt enlightened. He gave Bei Xinhong a reproving glance, then turned to Cheng Jianyu with glowing eyes. “What is your name?”

Bei Xinhong spoke up hurriedly, “This is my assistant, named…”

“Cheng Jianyu.” Cheng Jianyu interrupted him, stating his name openly.

The meeting room became as quiet as a grave as people exchanged looks.

Liang Qiu was surprised. He looked Cheng Jianyu up and down. Cheng Jianyu was wearing a color-blocked striped casual shirt with the sleeves rolled up slightly, showing clear, clean wrists. His collar was casually turned up, his nose bridge was narrow and straight, and his features were bright he looked no less impressive than a movie star.

“I have a deep impression of your name. Does it mean ‘witnessing steadfastness’ (jian-yu)?” Liang Qiu smiled.

His impression of the name came from the film Summer’s End Accident, which burst onto the scene five years ago. It was that year’s art film box office champion. Liang Qiu, who was recovering abroad at the time, loved the screenwriter’s exploration of life and destiny. He had asked his company to contact the new screenwriter, only to be rejected outright.

He still remembered his assistant’s troubled response: “He refused. He said your films are too highbrow and emphasize logic over emotion. He said he doesn’t vibe with you.”

Cheng Jianyu didn’t know the meaning of his name; he had been born without parents. “Perhaps.”

Seeing the situation turning against him, Bei Xinhong coughed several times to get everyone’s attention, adopting the air of an older artist. “I regard Jianyu very highly. Although he has been in a bottleneck period these past few years, I still believe he can write a great script like Summer’s End Accident. A good script is worth the wait, not just five years, but ten.”

“Director Liang, wouldn’t you agree?” Bei Xinhong sought validation from Liang Qiu.

Liang Qiu nodded, looking at Cheng Jianyu with interest. As a top-tier domestic director who instructed Best Actors and Actresses daily, Bei Xinhong’s acting was child’s play to him.

He was truly curious how that high-spirited, ambitious young man from years ago had ended up living here, turned into a silent cat.

“Mr. Bei, today’s meeting ends here. I look forward to seeing the second half of Please Kill Me Gently as soon as possible.” Liang Qiu stood up and extended his hand. Bei Xinhong shook it with a sigh of relief, not even realizing his palm was covered in sweat.

Cheng Jianyu closed the thin laptop. Liang Qiu’s secretary stepped forward and handed him an elegant business card with a faint ink fragrance. This happened right under Bei Xinhong’s nose; he was fuming at Cheng Jianyu but could do nothing about it.

The Nanka Entertainment people left as quickly as they had arrived. Zhou Jueqing did not leave, sitting motionlessly in his chair until only Bei Xinhong, Cheng Jianyu, and Chen Kai remained.

He adjusted his glasses and gave Cheng Jianyu a gentle smile, carrying the air of an upper-class gentleman. Just as he was about to make a speech, Cheng Jianyu stood up emotionlessly, turned, and walked out. Chen Kai followed with the laptop.

The atmosphere was awkward.

Like a tango with no partner.

“Quite a temper,” Bei Xinhong spat.

Zhou Jueqing took off his glasses and placed them on the table. “He’s always had a temper. Otherwise, why would he end up being your ghostwriter?”

Bei Xinhong gave a fake smile, concerned only with his own narrow interests. “Can you think of another way for me to make him behave and stay as my ghostwriter?”

“You really think he’s Hello Kitty?” Zhou Jueqing laughed, looking out the window. “The method I taught you only works once. Whether you can tame this little lion depends on your own ability. If you have no ability, I can’t help.”

Bei Xinhong hesitated. “As long as Jiang Yan doesn’t interfere, I have ways to make him comply. Can you guarantee Jiang Yan won’t interfere?”

Zhou Jueqing stretched, unconcerned. “Go ahead and do what you want. Cheng Jianyu is just Jiang Yan’s lapdog loyal to a fault. Jiang Yan doesn’t treat him like a person at all.”

The voices in the meeting room gradually faded.

…

Cheng Jianyu took Chen Kai out for a meal to thank him for his recent help. The two had a few drinks, which took up quite some time.

It wasn’t until sunset that he managed to catch a taxi. The neon lights of the night were all lit, making the city dazzling. The car radio played an unfamiliar song.

The singer’s vocal quality seemed excellent; even though he had deliberately changed his tone to match a gentle melody, one could still hear a unique, low timbre and breath control. Every word was delivered with just the right amount of power, making it very pleasant to the ear.

Interested, Cheng Jianyu opened a music app to search for the song.

The phone vibrated briefly.

[Singer: Jiang Yan] [Ranked NO.1 for most collected songs of the year]

Cheng Jianyu froze for a moment. His finger slid slowly across the screen. Finally, he tapped the small icon to “collect” this singer.