Flirted Then Forgot Everything - Chapter 6

“Cut. Next.”

Yu Cheng’s voice from the stage jolted Jian Li out of his thoughts. He snapped back to reality, his face turning pale.

I care about him.

No matter how he looked at it, that conclusion didn’t feel like a good thing.

“How is that even possible.” Jian Li muttered to himself. He refused to believe he had lingering feelings for Yu Cheng. He had always enjoyed Yu Cheng’s movies—maybe he’d watched them a few too many times, but what cinephile didn’t rewatch their favorite films?

On stage, Yu Cheng was delivering lines for the auditioning actors in a calm, steady voice. Though he wasn’t speaking loudly, his voice possessed a penetrating quality that forced every word into Jian Li’s ears, making him impossible to ignore.

Yu Cheng’s influence on him was becoming overwhelming. He didn’t want to stay here a second longer.

Jian Li pulled out his phone and messaged Wan Tao to ask when he was picking him up.

“Something came up. Wait for me a bit longer, I’ll be there soon,” Wan Tao replied.

“You look a bit pale.”

Just as Jian Li put his phone away, a thermos was suddenly thrust into his line of sight. He blinked and looked up to find Yang Xu standing there. The auditions were still going on, but as the director, Yang Xu didn’t seem to be paying much attention.

As if guessing Jian Li’s thoughts, Yang Xu nudged the thermos forward again. “Having Yu Cheng oversee them is enough. I can afford to slack off.”

Yang Xu gave him a playful wink. Jian Li took the thermos, feeling a bit out of place. “What is this?”

“Drink up. It’s homemade, not store-bought,” Yang Xu said, gesturing for him to open it.

Jian Li didn’t want to be rude, so he twisted the cap. A sweet, fragrant scent wafted out—a smell he knew well: rock sugar and pear.

“Thank you, Director.”

Jian Li took a sip. It was refreshing and sweet without being cloying, lacking the artificial aftertaste of bottled drinks. As a singer, protecting his throat was part of his daily routine; rock sugar and pear was his go-to remedy, not just for his voice, but because he genuinely loved the taste.

Yang Xu seemed to have come over specifically to deliver the drink. Seeing Jian Li start to drink, he turned and headed back to his seat.

The thermos was large and uniquely decorated with a vibrant, embossed pattern. The juice was delicious, and Jian Li found himself taking sip after sip until he had finished the entire bottle.

As the auditions drew to a close, Wan Tao still hadn’t arrived. Clutching the empty thermos, Jian Li suddenly felt the urge to use the restroom. He carefully set the bottle aside, asked a staff member for directions, and slipped away from the scene.

When he returned, Yang Xu and Yu Cheng were gone. Only a few young actors remained, packing up their things. They didn’t notice Jian Li standing nearby and were chatting freely, their voices thick with resentment.

“What was the point of that? They already announced the leads, yet they still held auditions. They said he’d personally act with us, but did you see him put in any effort? He wasn’t even trying.”

“Keep it down! You knew it was just for show, but you still came, didn’t you? Let’s be real, everyone was just hoping for a miracle.”

“I just can’t accept it. What’s so special about Jian Li? He just has some ‘traffic’ numbers. If I had his platform, I’d be a hundred times better than him.”

“Stop being bitter. I thought he did okay, especially for someone who’s never acted before.”

“That’s only because Yu Cheng was carrying him. If Yu Cheng were willing to get serious with me, I could do it too!”

Jian Li couldn’t listen anymore. He tapped on the doorframe, making enough noise to catch their attention. The group turned sharply, their faces paling when they saw him. They instantly shut up, looking small and cautious as they hurried past him to leave.

No matter how much of a “pretty face” they thought he was, Jian Li was still a top-tier star. These nameless actors only dared to talk behind his back; being caught face-to-face left them visibly shaken.

Once they were gone, Jian Li frowned. He picked up the thermos and caught a passing staff member, intending to ask them to return it to Yang Xu.

The staff member waved him off, pointing down the hall. “Go that way, second office after the turn. Director Yang is in there. You should probably return it in person.”

Jian Li figured that made sense. He headed toward the office, his mind drifting back to the thick stack of music manuscripts hidden in his drawer. He had never been content with just being a “traffic idol.” Over the years since his debut, his vision and Wan Tao’s had begun to diverge. Wan Tao wanted stability—too much of it and feared any kind of change. But Jian Li wanted to evolve. He wanted his songs to be heard, not to be forever haunted by a label of style over substance.

He found the office the staff member had mentioned. The door was ajar, and it seemed empty. Jian Li knocked on the frame, checking to see if anyone was in the inner lounge.

When no one answered, he turned to leave, but then he heard footsteps approaching along with Yu Cheng’s voice. It sounded like a group of people coming his way.

Yu Cheng, Yu Cheng, Yu Cheng.

Panic seized Jian Li. He wasn’t ready to face Yu Cheng right now; he didn’t even know how to look at him. He spun around in the empty room, eyes darting everywhere until they landed on the large office desk. Without thinking, he scrambled underneath it.

As the footsteps and conversation grew louder, Jian Li hit his own forehead with his palm. Am I an idiot? What am I doing?

The group entered the office, still talking. It was Yang Xu, Yu Cheng, and two veteran actors.

Yang Xu said, “I’ll have to trouble you two teachers for this production.”

“Trouble? Not at all! I’ve wanted to play this brat’s elder for ages. Besides, I get to see the drama unfold first-hand. It’s a win-win, hahaha!”

It turned out the veterans had already been cast; they had only been at the audition to watch the show. Yu Cheng chuckled and walked toward the desk.

Jian Li heard the footsteps getting closer. He hugged the thermos to his chest and tried to shrink further back into the shadows. But the space under the desk was tiny; his back was already pressed against the wood. There was nowhere left to go.

The office chair was pulled out, and Yu Cheng sat down. As he slid the chair forward, his long legs were inches away from bumping into Jian Li. Instinctively, Jian Li reached out and pressed his hand against Yu Cheng’s calf.

Yu Cheng froze instantly. His voice even faltered for a fraction of a second. Jian Li pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned.

I’m dead! He knows I’m here!

Yang Xu and the veterans were still right there. How on earth would he explain hiding under a desk if they found him?

To his surprise, the frozen Yu Cheng suddenly slid the chair even closer. His long legs pushed into the space under the desk, crowding Jian Li so much that he had to huddle against Yu Cheng’s leg just to fit. Yu Cheng continued his conversation as if he were completely unaware of the person beneath him.

Yang Xu was a talker. They chatted for what felt like an eternity. Under the desk, Jian Li was breaking into a sweat. His back was beginning to ache from being hunched over, his legs were cramping, and the small space was rapidly heating up.

Finally sensing Jian Li’s discomfort, Yu Cheng eased the chair back slightly, giving him a bit of room. Jian Li didn’t care about anything else anymore; he poked his head out slightly and rested it against Yu Cheng’s knee to gulp in some fresh air.

As he panted, he looked up and saw Yu Cheng staring down at him, his eyes dark and unreadable.

The angle was incredibly intimate, making the air feel thin all over again. Yu Cheng’s gaze flickered to the thermos in Jian Li’s arms. Suddenly, he reached down and tugged Jian Li’s collar upward, covering the slight pink flush on his collarbones. Then, he lightly brushed his fingertip against Jian Li’s eyelashes.

The movement was so delicate that when Jian Li blinked, it felt like a butterfly had just grazed him. Yu Cheng’s hands were long, elegant, and strong—media polls often voted them the hands people most wanted to hold. Now, those hands moved from his lashes down to his cheek. Yu Cheng gave it a firm pinch, squeezing Jian Li’s face out of shape.

Flares of annoyance made Jian Li forget the danger of the situation. He reached up and slapped Yu Cheng’s hand away with a loud smack.

The conversation outside stopped abruptly. “What was that sound?” Yang Xu asked.

Yu Cheng pulled his hand back, his expression perfectly neutral.

“Nothing,” Yu Cheng said calmly. “Just got swiped at by a wildcat.”

“A wildcat? Where? Let me see,” Yang Xu said, starting to walk over.

Panicking, Jian Li grabbed Yu Cheng’s trouser leg. He reached out, took hold of Yu Cheng’s finger, and gave it a small, frantic tug, his light-colored eyes looking up at the man with a desperate, pleading gaze.

He couldn’t let Yang Xu find him!

Yu Cheng allowed Jian Li to keep hold of his finger and spoke:

“He’s not tamed yet. Too fierce—I can’t let you see him.”

“Let’s wrap things up for today. I’ll treat you both to dinner another time.”

With that, Yu Cheng stood up and walked out from behind the desk to see Yang Xu and the others off.

The moment the room was empty, Jian Li scrambled out from under the desk, slammed the thermos onto the office table, and bolted.

At the corner of the long corridor outside the office, Yang Xu and Yu Cheng stood talking. Yang Xu was facing Yu Cheng with his back to the office, so he didn’t see Jian Li sprinting away.

Yang Xu lit a cigarette, leaning against the wall as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. He teased Yu Cheng:

“I delivered that thermos for you. Now, are you going to tell me why the great Film King Yu had the sudden urge to personally slow-cook rock sugar and pear for someone? And why send it so secretly?”

“To test something.”

Yang Xu was puzzled. “Test what? Test Jian Li? What can you possibly find out with a bottle of pear juice?”

Yu Cheng’s lips curved into a faint smile, but he offered no explanation.

Yang Xu clicked his tongue, his eyes darting as a thought occurred to him. “Wait, I just remembered. Didn’t you say two years ago that you were planning to move behind the scenes and stop acting? When I asked why, you said it was for the sake of one person. Then the whole thing just fizzled out. I was too busy filming to follow up, but that person, it couldn’t be this Jian Li, could it?”

Yu Cheng’s expression gradually cooled.

Yang Xu looked as if he’d discovered a new continent, his voice rising in excitement:

“From what I can see, this Jian Li doesn’t seem to have any feelings for you. Don’t tell me you actually got dumped by him?”

Yu Cheng looked up, his gaze cutting like a knife.

Yang Xu wasn’t intimidated in the least; he let out a loud laugh. “So that’s why you handed over the movie you were supposed to direct to me—all for the sake of this Jian Li. You’re really going through a lot of trouble, though, insisting on that audition charade. Yu Cheng, oh Yu Cheng, what exactly are you after?”

What was he after?

Yu Cheng pulled out a cigarette and lit it, his expression masked by the swirling smoke.

“Directing it personally or acting in it personally, there isn’t much of a difference.”

As for what he was after? Who knows.