After I Started Dating the Scum Gong Substitute, the White Moonlight Returned - Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Cheng Jianyu took the spoon and slowly stirred the soft, glutinous steamed egg. The bowl of golden yellow was beaten into fragments, looking like an expired egg tart, leaving him with absolutely no appetite.

The topics at the dinner table shifted like clouds and wind. Aside from him, everyone present had been on entertainment variety shows before; they were very good at creating “program effects” and livening up the atmosphere.

As for Jiang Yan, his mere presence there was already the focal point of attention.

Following the production crew’s “overflowing public displays of affection” process, the conversation turned to everyone’s first date with their partners. Kong Xuesong shared his experience bashfully, “Our first date was at an izakaya in Hokkaido. Back then, we were still just friends. I remember that day, the weather was exceptionally cold, and he was wearing a black down jacket…”

“Ours was at a tea restaurant opened by one of his friends; it happened to be his brother’s birthday…”

…

Yan Rong asked with a smile: “Jianyu, what about you two?”

Cheng Jianyu was stunned for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly, “Our first date?”

“Yes, you and your boyfriend,” Yan Rong felt helpless in his heart; it seemed everyone had been talking for ages, and Cheng Jianyu hadn’t been paying attention at all.

Cheng Jianyu chewed on the words “boyfriend.” He seemed to smile for a brief moment, a smile that vanished instantly yet was strikingly bright. He said unhurriedly: “Our first date was in a park. He read Shakespeare’s sonnets. I was very sleepy that day and fell asleep while listening.”

He hesitated for a second, lowered his eyes, and said softly: “If I had known it would be like this, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

Jiang Yan folded his arms and scrutinized him silently. He was certain that “dating” over the past few years had just been finding fresh places to have sex; he wasn’t sure if they had ever even been to a hotel near a park. As for reading sonnets, such a boring thing was not his style.

Before confirming his relationship with Cheng Jianyu, he had done a simple investigation. Cheng Jianyu’s romantic history was a complete blank; he had never had a boyfriend or girlfriend.

It seemed Brother Chao’s agreed-upon regulations had forced Cheng Jianyu to learn how to lie.

Since Cheng Jianyu liked sonnets so much, Jiang Yan didn’t mind going to a park after this trip and sitting under a tree to read a few for him, fulfilling Cheng Jianyu’s dream.

“I really couldn’t tell. I thought Jiang Yan was the cool type, I didn’t expect him to be so romantic,” Yan Rong lamented.

Cheng Jianyu’s expression remained indifferent as he took a casual sip of juice.

The group moved on to other topics, the atmosphere high and bustling.

When the dinner ended, the cameras and the crowd withdrew from the banquet hall together. Cheng Jianyu said goodnight to Jiang Yan and entered the elevator with the others.

Jiang Yan shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. Upon walking out, he remembered the lighter on the table and turned back. The sight of the leftover cold food on the table turned his stomach; his gaze turned cold abruptly.

Cheng Jianyu had grown bold; he dared not to eat the meal Jiang Yan had ordered.

He needed to be disciplined.

Outside the hotel window, the sea was azure, and palm leaves drooped before the bed. Jiang Yan’s room had the best view in the entire hotel. He turned off the room’s camera, removed the microphone from his collar and tossed it into a drawer, then leaned lazily against the bay window, one long leg stretched out on the tatami mat.

The salty, fishy sea breeze blew in. He took an ashtray and lit a cigarette. As the nicotine passed through his lungs, the irritability in his chest eased slightly.

With the cigarette in his mouth, he sent a WeChat message to Cheng Jianyu with one hand: “Come to my room.”

The chat window showed “Typing…”; after a few seconds, “Typing…” disappeared. A few more seconds later, a small cat head emoji with a question mark popped up.

[Mingjian]: My stomach hurts from you thrusting into it. I need to rest for a night.

Jiang Yan let out a low laugh and calmly typed a line: “I’ll give you five minutes. Either you come find me, or I come find you. Pick one.”

After finishing the text, he threw his phone onto the tatami and stopped looking for a reply. Cheng Jianyu knew how to choose to minimize the damage.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Three, four, five minutes passed.

Jiang Yan picked up his phone and headed downstairs murderously.

In the hotel corridor, Yan Rong walked out of Cheng Jianyu’s room with a refined and gentle smile. Cheng Jianyu was leaning against the doorframe, wearing a silk loungewear set, his hair half-wet with the tips curling up. His posture was lazy and elegant as he turned his head to say something to Yan Rong.

The distance was far, and Jiang Yan couldn’t hear the content of their conversation clearly, but he vaguely felt that Cheng Jianyu was different from how he usually acted in front of him.

In front of Jiang Yan, Cheng Jianyu was quiet, obedient, and impeccably gentle and sensible. He had never seen Cheng Jianyu this relaxed and at ease, possessing such a skillful vibe.

It was a side of reality he had never seen before.

Yan Rong smiled very “flirtatiously,” pulling a phone from his pocket and presenting it before Cheng Jianyu’s eyes. Cheng Jianyu lowered his gaze to look at the phone screen; this posture caused the buttons of his loose silk pajamas to slacken, revealing a section of clean, slender neck. There was a sense of “wanting to speak but holding back.” The corners of his mouth curved up leisurely, his smile looking exceptionally beautiful under the lights.

The veins on Jiang Yan’s arm throbbed violently. He took a deep breath and walked over aggressively. Cheng Jianyu was stunned for a moment; his originally natural expression vanished completely, replaced by a kind of deliberate tenderness: “I’m going upstairs now.”

“No need.” Jiang Yan cut in between the two of them, blocking Cheng Jianyu’s line of sight. He crossed his arms and lifted his chin toward Yan Rong. “The Great Writer is so considerate, coming to tell bedtime stories so late at night?”

Yan Rong keenly sensed the eerie atmosphere and explained with a smile, “I brought a copy of Agatha’s Appointment with Death to give to Jianyu as a meeting gift. It didn’t mean anything else, please don’t misunderstand.”

Jiang Yan lowered his head and laughed silently. Cheng Jianyu tugged at his top from behind, but Jiang Yan ignored him, looking at Yan Rong with a half-smile. “We only met on the first day; there’s no need to call him ‘Jianyu.’ You aren’t that familiar.”

Yan Rong hadn’t expected him to be so aggressive; he couldn’t maintain his composure. “My apologies, I was being presumptuous.”

“Teacher Yan.” Cheng Jianyu spoke up to stop this inexplicable crossfire, looking at Yan Rong calmly. “You go back first. This has nothing to do with you.”

Yan Rong gave him a deep look, turned, and walked toward the end of the corridor. Behind him, Jiang Yan’s voice was neither warm nor cold, tinged with a bit of a smile: “What were you just chatting about? Tell me.”

It wasn’t until Yan Rong’s figure disappeared around the corner that Cheng Jianyu lowered his head in silence for a few seconds and said gloomily: “He already said it. He gave me a book and showed me the book review he wrote.”

Jiang Yan sneered, turned into the room, and said coldly: “Get in.”

He had a large capacity for tolerance; he wouldn’t get angry just because Cheng Jianyu spoke a few words to another man. However, the way Cheng Jianyu had treated Yan Rong just now made his blood boil. Why had he never seen Cheng Jianyu have such a “fish in water” (at ease) side?

Cheng Jianyu hesitated for a moment and subconsciously retreated. Jiang Yan directly grabbed his arm, pulled him in forcefully, and closed the door with his other hand. In the next second, Cheng Jianyu’s back hit the back of the door, his shoulder blades aching from the impact. He looked up, and Jiang Yan squeezed his cheeks, kissing him over and over without a word of explanation, tasting him from the inside out. Cheng Jianyu half-closed his eyes, opening his mouth obediently to let him kiss, but this still wasn’t enough to quench Jiang Yan’s anger. He brutally bit the corner of Cheng Jianyu’s lip, his breathing heavy.

“You open the door for anyone who knocks late at night? Giving books? I think he wants to give you flowers.” Jiang Yan let out a cold laugh, his fingertip wiping the faint trace of blood from the corner of Cheng Jianyu’s mouth. “‘Jianyu,’ ‘Teacher Yan’ you call each other so intimately.”

Cheng Jianyu took a deep breath, steadied his breathing, and his expression was as calm as water. “He has a boyfriend.”

The implication was that he and Yan Rong had absolutely nothing to do with each other.

“They fucking broke up a long time ago.” Jiang Yan’s intense emotions gradually stabilized. He patted Cheng Jianyu’s face and threatened coldly, “Try opening the door for him again. I’ll make it so you can never get out of bed again.”

There won’t be a next time, Cheng Jianyu sighed in his heart. Jiang Yan let go of him and licked his lips as if he hadn’t had enough. The sweet scent of either shampoo or body wash on Cheng Jianyu drifted into his nose; he leaned into the crook of Cheng Jianyu’s neck and sniffed. His voice was slightly husky: “Why do you smell so good?”

He was completely unaware of how quickly these two diametrically opposite emotions had switched.

Cheng Jianyu’s breath hitched; his calves felt weak, and he leaned back slightly to create distance between them. Sensing his tension, Jiang Yan instead pinched his soft earlobe and sat on the sofa. “We won’t do it tonight. Turn on the TV.”

Cheng Jianyu felt as if a heavy burden had been lifted. He pressed the TV switch. Jiang Yan grabbed the remote, tuned to the movie search channel, and typed: Accident at Summer’s End.

Search.

The golden dragon logo and music started. Cheng Jianyu was stunned for a moment as the long-absent music and images entered his sight. The name of the screenwriter, “Cheng Jianyu,” followed closely after the director; the pale gold characters were particularly conspicuous against the backdrop of the dark, rainy night.

His thin eyelids flickered, then he smiled softly. He pulled his knees up and crawled onto the sofa, burrowing into Jiang Yan’s arms like a small kitten. Two men lying on the sofa were a bit cramped; he would fall off if he moved even slightly. He took Jiang Yan’s arm and proactively placed it over his waist, giving himself a protective bar. “I’m going to sleep. You watch.”

Jiang Yan ignored him. The art film had a slow pace, playing for a full two hours. When it ended, it was nearly midnight, and all was silent except for the rising and falling sound of the tide.

The film’s subject matter was unique, and the atmosphere throughout was suppressed and restrained. From a small incident on the last day of summer vacation, it led to a juvenile murder case; the construction was ingenious and natural.

At the end of the film, the male lead’s youthful, clean face stood in the pouring rain. The rain washed away the bloodstains on his face as he looked up, staring at the camera expressionlessly. Beautiful youth is always shocking, profound, and equally fleeting.

No wonder Yan Rong looked at him with special interest.

The breathing of the small head on his lap was long and even. The dim yellow light cast a golden veil over him, making him look peaceful and gentle. Jiang Yan looked down for a few seconds, and his heart suddenly twitched, as if something was stirring.

He attributed this to the restlessness of unsatisfied desire.

He had never thought about falling in love; starting with Cheng Jianyu was an accident. People he had slept with were like they had been branded; others could not stamp a second seal. He simply used a romantic relationship to keep him by his side to solve the physiological needs at the peak of this age. Cheng Jianyu’s beauty and obedience made his days very pleasant.

Cheng Jianyu was his possession. From his hair to his toes, every inch of skin, every drop of blood, every expression all belonged to him. This was an unquestionable fact.

Jiang Yan had only one requirement for Cheng Jianyu: to be a loyal believer in the autocratic kingdom named Jiang Yan, and they could live like this for a lifetime, safe and sound.

Is this not good enough?

He patted Cheng Jianyu’s face and said in a low voice: “Since you can’t leave me so much, then I’ll allow you to stay by my side.”

The next day, as the sky was just beginning to brighten, Cheng Jianyu returned to his own room to wash up. The production crew’s staff sought everyone out to check the activity schedule.

Today they would act separately. According to the results of the draw, they would split into two paths: one to visit the South Island’s History and Culture Museum, and the other to experience the highest skydiving in Asia at a height of over 4,300 meters. Both were essential South Island travel items.

Breakfast and lunch on the South Island were not much different from all high-calorie foods. Everyone ate breakfast hurriedly and began drawing lots for groups.

Jiang Yan, Kong Xuesong, and the child star group went skydiving. Cheng Jianyu and the other three went to visit the museum together.

Yan Rong had been to the museum once before, so he took the lead this time, acting as a temporary guide. South Island is a religious country with a Buddhist faith; the museum was built with grand magnificence. To create a unique sense of mystery, there was no natural lighting in the entire hall, only dim blue chandeliers that told heavy historical stories.

Yan Rong was knowledgeable and spoke eloquently: “Legend has it that back then, the King of the South fled here and accidentally entered a temple. He saw a statue of a Bodhisattva with an ugly appearance and ordered his subordinates to move the statue outside. Unexpectedly, a piece of the iron shell fell off during the journey, revealing a glittering golden body. After that, the King of the South turned his luck around thanks to this Bodhisattva statue…”

His voice was slow as he told the story vividly. The “older husband and younger wife” pair listened with great interest, asking him questions from time to time, which Yan Rong answered. He turned his head; Cheng Jianyu was walking behind them, looking clean and handsome. His expression was no different from his coldness of yesterday, and coupled with the chilly air conditioning of the museum, he looked even more frigid.

Yan Rong stopped in his tracks and asked with a smile to include him: “Jianyu, do you think this story is true or false?”

“False.” Cheng Jianyu said without hesitation. He walked to Yan Rong’s side, looked at the fragments of the Bodhisattva statue in the display case, and said unhurriedly: “The Bodhisattva statue was arranged in advance by the King of the South. In order to make a comeback, he pretended to be a messenger sent by the Buddha to win people’s hearts.”

The other two showed expressions of sudden realization. Yan Rong gave him a refined smile. “That is another version of the legend, and I believe so as well.”

Cheng Jianyu gave an “En,” looked away, and gazed at the artifacts in the display case.

“I didn’t cause you trouble last night, did I?” Yan Rong turned off his mic and slowed his pace.

Cheng Jianyu glanced at him and shook his head. Yan Rong felt guilty; yesterday was not the first time he had seen Cheng Jianyu. This went back to the Shanghai Film Festival five years ago; he was a specially invited judge and had seen Cheng Jianyu’s ID photo in the files.

In that small ID photo, he was just like his current self: a youth who was quiet and of few words, with refined features. It should have been a very good appearance, yet between his brows, it was full of lifelessness, looking even harder to approach than now. At least, the current Cheng Jianyu had some vitality.

However, Yan Rong was not happy to see Cheng Jianyu in yesterday’s setting. In his imagination, with an appearance and talent like Cheng Jianyu’s, their reunion should have been at a grand awards banquet. Amidst the clinking of glasses, the vibrant youth would stand among clusters of flowers, talking and laughing with high spirits, and freely delivering a casual acceptance speech.

There was nothing wrong with how Cheng Jianyu was now, but someone like him should be living a better life.

Rather than being a pearl covered in dust, a waste of a precious talent.

Just then, they happened to walk to the exit, where a long, pitch-black corridor appeared before them. The antique wall lamps on the walls had long run out of oil and had never been repaired.

Cheng Jianyu’s shoes stopped at the bright arc on the floor. He subconsciously took a step back, staying within the range of the light. Yan Rong didn’t hear footsteps and turned his neck to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

His mind quickly made a turn. “You’re not afraid of the dark, are you?”