Never Forget - Chapter 21

Ye Zhuyi’s heart hammered wildly, as if ten thousand little deer were crashing around inside her chest. When she forced herself to look up at Qin Zhizhen, the deer settled down for two brief seconds before running even more frantically.

Qin Zhizhen’s makeup and styling were almost identical to her promotional photos. She wore a custom-tailored suit but had taken off the jacket because she felt too hot. Her shirt sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, and the top buttons were left undone.

Although Yin Xingmang appeared in men’s clothing throughout the drama, she was still fundamentally a woman. The makeup artist hadn’t tried to make her look like a man. Instead, they used highlighter and contouring to sharpen Qin Zhizhen’s features. Her eyebrows were shaped into sharp “sword brows” to enhance her heroic aura, which balanced her feminine softness. The result was a look that was both handsome and beautiful, yet not delicate.

Her hairstyle had also been slightly adjusted. The top was pulled into a half-up bun, with the front strands swept back for volume. Two small locks of hair were left loose on the sides, adding a touch of lazy disarray.

Anyone who saw her would struggle to decide whether to call her a beautiful man or a handsome woman.

The script described Yin Xingmang’s appearance in just eight characters: “Celestial grace, elegant yet rebellious.”

The first four characters—”radiant as the clouds, graceful as the moon”, were perfectly captured by Qin Zhizhen’s flawless features and the carefully crafted makeup. The last four—”elegant yet rogue”—had to be brought to life through her expressions, words, and actions.

Ye Zhuyi could tell Qin Zhizhen had fully immersed herself in the role. That roguish smile and the flippant, teasing tone were exactly what a living, breathing Yin Xingmang would do. Yet, coming from Qin Zhizhen, it felt completely natural. In this moment, she was Yin Xingmang.

Ye Zhuyi wasn’t the only one who noticed. Zhou Wen had also realized it. After a long “Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she praised, “Young Master Yin is the handsomest!”

Lu Buping’s eyes locked onto Qin Zhizhen, lit up with unconcealed excitement. “That’s the feeling! I knew it. You can play any role perfectly, kid.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of praising me like that, Director Lu?” Qin Zhizhen shot her a sideways glance, her smile deepening. She didn’t hold back, fully embodying Yin Xingmang’s confident demeanor.

“Never!” Lu Buping puffed out her chest. Despite her short hair and tomboyish style, she had a surprisingly large chest, which became even more prominent when she stood tall like that.

Zhou Wen nudged Lu Buping, signaling her to tone it down, then asked, “You said Zhenzhen can play any role. What about Yezi?”

Lu Buping crossed her arms and watched Ye Zhuyi without speaking, as if lost in thought. After a long moment, she sighed. “You know, all these film and drama schools teach acting, but in this industry, it’s really all about natural talent. Acting is just a set of techniques, really. Some people don’t even know any techniques but can act incredibly well just by instinct. Others can only ever master one role. Some can play any part perfectly. Some are like water, taking the shape of whatever container they’re poured into, becoming whatever character they play. And then there are those who can’t act well no matter how long they study.”

“Here we go again with the long speeches,” Zhou Wen quipped, teasing Lu Buping. “You’re so full of insights. But you still haven’t said which kind Yezi is.”

“I need to see her act more before I can make a judgment,” Lu Buping replied. She then turned to Ye Zhuyi. “Which one do you think you are?”

Ye Zhuyi stared at Lu Buping. She had heard someone say those exact words before. She smiled modestly. “I wouldn’t dare label myself, but I’m trying to become the second kind.”

Lu Buping gave her a thumbs up and praised her generously. “That’s the spirit! Actually, you should aim to be the first kind.”

Ye Zhuyi didn’t quite understand the “first type,” but she couldn’t bring herself to ask. Director Lu had already gone to hurry the crew to move faster.

As Ye Zhuyi lost herself in thought, Qin Zhizhen suddenly reached out and flicked her forehead. “You answered Director Lu’s question,” she said, her voice still low but no longer deliberately raspy and neutral, “but you still haven’t answered Aunt Zhou’s.”

The burning sensation spread across Ye Zhuyi’s ears. She was too flustered to remember what Zhou Wen had asked. Rubbing the spot where Qin Zhizhen had flicked her, she asked blankly, “What question?”

Qin Zhizhen stared at her in silence for a moment.

Ye Zhuyi looked into Qin Zhizhen’s still, deep eyes. They were as dark and unfathomable as an ancient well, hiding emotions she couldn’t decipher. Qin Zhizhen didn’t give her another chance to read her thoughts.

When Zhou Wen reminded them it was time to leave, Qin Zhizhen was the first to look away. “Let’s get in the car,” she said casually, as if nothing had happened, and started to walk away.

As they passed each other, a sudden flash of memory hit Ye Zhuyi. She remembered Zhou Wen’s playful question. Was that what Zhenzhen meant? Before she could think it through, Ye Zhuyi instinctively grabbed Qin Zhizhen’s arm.

Qin Zhizhen stopped and turned to look at her.

“Um… I… la,” Ye Zhuyi stammered. Meeting Qin Zhizhen’s eyes made her so nervous that she couldn’t even finish the word. Her ears felt like they were on fire. She didn’t let go of Qin Zhizhen’s arm but looked down at the ground, trying to sound composed as she added, “You look very handsome.”

Because they were so close, Ye Zhuyi didn’t have to raise her voice. Her words were a soft, lingering murmur, like a secret shared between lovers. Her long eyelashes fluttered against her lowered lids, and a deep blush stained her ears crimson.

Qin Zhizhen’s gaze swept over Ye Zhuyi’s small, reddened ear before settling on the hand still gripping her arm. “You can let go now,” she said, her tone cool and detached.

Isn’t that the point?

After a brief inner struggle, Ye Zhuyi finally released her grip. A wave of disappointment washed over her as she kept her head bowed, staring at the ground.

“Are you planning to count ants down here?” Qin Zhizhen teased, gently tugging at Ye Zhuyi’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

Her heart fluttering, Ye Zhuyi quickly turned and hurried to keep pace, staying just half a step behind. A smile spread across her face as sunlight filtered through the dense green leaves, dancing on her cheeks and settling in her deep dimples.

She didn’t see Qin Zhizhen’s lips curve into a faint smile, her eyes softening with a hint of amusement.

****

When the cast arrived at the opening ceremony, the table was already set with incense burners, offerings of fruit, and a roasted suckling pig. Behind the table, a red banner with gold letters announced: “Wishing the Jing Que Film Crew a Prosperous Start.”

The cameras on either side of the table were draped in red cloth. In front of the table, an open space had been cleared for the actors to line up and take turns offering incense.

Reporters, media, and fans of various celebrities had flocked to the scene, while crew members and security guards held them back. The fans’ deafening screams completely drowned out the flashes of the media’s cameras.

The fans seemed to be competing in a shouting match, their faces flushing red as they screamed at the top of their lungs, determined not to let their idols be overshadowed.

After the incense offering, the investor and Lu Buping took the floor. The actors stood in the scorching sun, their voices completely buried by the fans’ cheers.

The ceremony didn’t last long and wasn’t as grueling as they had expected. Midway through, a light rain began to fall, and the dark clouds blocked the sun, providing some much-needed shade. Lu Buping joked that the rain was a sign of good fortune, and she wrapped up her speech in just a couple of sentences. Then, she pulled the red cloths off the cameras, and the ceremony officially concluded.

After the light rain, the temperature rose a few more degrees, making it even hotter than before. Ye Zhuyi was dressed lightly but was still sweating, the sticky feeling on her skin making every movement uncomfortable. She glanced at Qin Zhizhen beside her, who was wearing long sleeves and long pants, looking even more stifled.

Ye Zhuyi took a small electric fan from her bag and handed it to Qin Zhizhen.

Qin Zhizhen paused. She was indeed feeling the heat, but she didn’t take the fan. Instead, she asked, “What will you use if I take it?”

“I brought two,” Ye Zhuyi said.

Qin Zhizhen took it. The breeze from the small fan brushed against her face, easing some of the heat. She asked casually, “Did you bring two in case one runs out of battery?”

“This one can last all day,” Ye Zhuyi said, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. “I brought one for Teacher Qin.”

Qin Zhizhen’s fingers twitched slightly on the small fan. She watched the blades spin, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Thank you.”

“Do you need some cooling spray, Teacher Qin?” Ye Zhuyi pulled a spray bottle from her bag.

“Are you Doraemon?” Qin Zhizhen teased.

Ye Zhuyi smiled. “I’m just very sensitive to the heat. Do you want some, Teacher Qin? It works best on your back and neck.”

Qin Zhizhen turned around, presenting her back to her.

“Is it okay to spray it on your clothes?” Ye Zhuyi took off the cap of the spray bottle but hesitated just as she was about to use it.

“It’s fine,” Qin Zhizhen said calmly. She pressed the button on the fan to increase its speed.

Ye Zhuyi sprayed it twice on Qin Zhizhen’s back, then paused to stare at the other woman’s slender neck. The skin was pale and smooth, glistening with a fine sheen of sweat under the bright sunlight.

Instead of the expected mist, a soft tissue touched her skin. Qin Zhizhen flinched. “I can do it myself,” she said, reaching back to touch her neck. In the process, her hand brushed against Ye Zhuyi’s.

Ye Zhuyi’s hand was much cooler, completely dry and smooth, without a single drop of sweat.

Does she really get hot?

“I’ve already wiped it,” Ye Zhuyi said, pulling her hand back. As Qin Zhizhen lowered her arm, Ye Zhuyi sprayed the mist on the back of her neck twice.

The cool mist brought some relief from the heat, but Qin Zhizhen still felt restless. She frowned and tugged at her collar.

Their intimate interaction, as if no one else was around, sent the nearby CP fans into a frenzy of screams. Qin Zhizhen relaxed her frown and looked at the fans, who were sweating profusely under the scorching sun, their faces flushed red from cheering until their voices went hoarse. She called Lian Rong over and instructed, “Find a few people to go buy some water for the fans.”

A young girl among the fans asked shyly, “Qin Shen, can we get a piece of the action too?”

Qin Zhizhen noticed the chibi fan art of Ye Zhuyi on the girl’s fan. She smiled, her expression as refreshing as a gentle breeze and her voice as clear as a babbling brook. “Of course you can. We’re family.”

Standing nearby, Ye Zhuyi’s heart skipped a beat before melting completely. She turned to look at Qin Zhizhen, her eyes filled with a tenderness she didn’t even realize she was showing. Qin Zhizhen didn’t notice, but the reporters’ cameras captured everything.

A reporter wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and asked, “What do you mean by ‘family’?”

“You’ll find out when the movie comes out,” Qin Zhizhen said mysteriously, tilting her head with a rogue smirk reminiscent of Yin Xingmang.

The reporters were left dizzy with curiosity, while the fans screamed in unison.

Amidst the deafening cheers, Ye Zhuyi gradually calmed down. We’re family in the movie, she reminded herself, warning against her own tendency to overthink and imagine things.

The same reporter, refusing to give up, asked, “Director Lu mentioned that the relationship between the first and second female leads is unusual. In what way is it unusual?”

This time, the reporter thrust her voice recorder toward Ye Zhuyi.

“You really want to know?” Ye Zhuyi asked with a faint smile. She wore only light makeup today, but her beauty was as striking as ever.

The reporter blushed under her gaze and nodded eagerly.

“Then you must go see the movie when it’s released,” Ye Zhuyi said, her smile deepening. Her curved eyes added a touch of softness to her coquettish charm.

The reporter instinctively clutched her chest, thinking, Damn, they’re both so good at this!

The reporter stopped asking about the plot. No matter who she questioned, they all deflected her questions with effortless grace, revealing nothing about the movie itself. Finally, she changed the subject.

“Qin Shen, there are many CP videos of you online. First, there was the ‘Xuan Paper’ CP with Sui Xuan, and now there’s the ‘Pearl CP’ with Ye Zhuyi. Which one do you prefer?”

The question was incredibly sharp. Answering it would inevitably offend one of the two women. But Qin Zhizhen wasn’t afraid of offending anyone, and he was known for speaking his mind. The fans fell silent, their hearts pounding as they waited for his answer.

Ye Zhuyi unconsciously held her breath. Her hand clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palm, the sharp pain helping her maintain a smile and stay composed.

“That question,” Qin Zhizhen said, glancing at Ye Zhuyi. Seeing her seemingly unbothered by the question, her brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Instead of answering, she asked, “Do all CP videos have to assign a top and a bottom? Which one do you think I look like?”

Online, every CP video featuring Qin Zhizhen cast her as the top. Only her videos with Ye Zhuyi flipped the script.

This implied she preferred the “Xuan Paper” CP. The “Pearl CP” fans in the audience hung their heads in disappointment, while solo fans muttered, “They’re just trying to ride my god’s fame. Not in this lifetime.”

“But I’ll still go with Pearl,” Qin Zhizhen said, turning to the person whose head was bowed as low as it could go. “Xuan Paper is too fragile.”

Hearing this, Ye Zhuyi looked at Qin Zhizhen in disbelief, her lips parted and her face flushed with surprise.

Amidst the CP fans’ courageous shout of “Pearl is real!”, she felt her heart pounding so hard it might leap from her throat, screaming—this is just… too much.

“Qin Shen, are you going to be the bottom?!” a fan jumped up and shouted.

Qin Zhizhen raised an eyebrow. “Decide who’s the top and who’s the bottom after you watch the movie,” she replied. Her answer not only answered the fan but also steered the conversation back to the film, building suspense and generating buzz.

The interview didn’t last long. Soon, Lu Buping gathered the crew to set up equipment and sent someone to notify the actors to prepare for rehearsals and blocking.

Qin Zhizhen told the fans to find a shady spot if they wanted to watch, warning them not to stand in the scorching sun. Then, she turned to find Lu Buping. She glanced sideways at Ye Zhuyi and asked, “Aren’t you going to watch me film?”

“I will,” Ye Zhuyi replied without hesitation. She met Qin Zhizhen’s gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.

Qin Zhizhen saw Ye Zhuyi’s ears flush red against her pale skin. She found it amusing. Why does she get shy so easily? she wondered.

Still, it’s pretty cute.

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