Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 44

Yuan Xingzhou’s instinct was to push against Ye Huai’s shoulders, but as the other man leaned in for that fierce, hungry kiss, Yuan’s fingers curled slightly, shifting from a push to a firm grasp on Ye Huai’s clothes.

This submissive posture only fueled Ye Huai’s desire to dote on—and perhaps ravage—him. Before Yuan Xingzhou could even feel smug about his “scheme” succeeding, he was pulled into a crushing embrace. Ye Huai bit and kissed him with a frantic intensity, like a starving wolf finally getting its teeth into a choice piece of meat.

The rain poured down in sheets, and a sudden gust of wind howled past, catching the umbrella on the ground and sent it tumbling away.

In a brief gap between “bites,” Yuan Xingzhou caught a glimpse of a black shadow rolling off into the distance.

Yuan Xingzhou: “???”

Yuan Xingzhou: “!!”

“Ahhh—!” Yuan snapped back to reality and shoved Ye Huai away, bolting after the runaway object. “The umbrella! The umbrella is getting away!”

Caught off guard by the shove, Ye Huai stood there dazed for a second. “You…”

Yuan Xingzhou was already a dozen yards away.

Ye Huai narrowed his eyes, and after a long beat, he finally spat out a curse: “…Damn it! You little pig!”

The wind grew even stronger. The large black umbrella moved with a “fluid grace,” using some phantom martial arts footwork to dodge Yuan’s clumsy attempts to catch it. In his desperation, Yuan Xingzhou sprinted at top speed, disappearing from view in the blink of an eye.

Ye Huai: “…”

He tugged at his pants, spun around irritably in place, and wiped his face. His hands were full of rainwater, and his hair was plastered to his head.

Fortunately, Yuan Xingzhou soon caught the umbrella and came running back, holding it high. Watching him approach, Ye Huai’s lips couldn’t help but twitch upward into a smile.

Yuan Xingzhou smiled back foolishly, his face dripping wet. “Shall we go back?”

“Mm.” Ye Huai glanced at him, wanting to kiss him again. But both were soaked to the bone, and their shoes were squelching with water.

As they turned to walk back, Ye Huai felt a bit self-conscious. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to maintain his “cool guy” persona. Yuan Xingzhou silently held the umbrella over them, walking shoulder-to-shoulder.

After just two steps, Yuan felt a sudden pressure around his neck. Ye Huai had hooked an arm around him, pulling him close while refusing to look at him, quickening his pace toward the lodging.

To Yuan’s surprise, Ye Huai was staying in a suite—the best room the hotel offered.

“I paid for this out of my own pocket; the production crew was more than happy to let me,” Ye Huai explained as he led him inside. He grabbed a bathrobe from the entryway closet and handed it over, urging, “Shower first. I’ll find some clothes for you.”

Xiao Lü, who was playing on his phone in the lounge, heard voices and came running over.

“What happened to you two?” Xiao Lü cried out, seeing the water dripping off them. “Did the umbrella break?”

Ye Huai: “…”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Where’s Tie-zi?” Ye Huai turned around, keeping his face stiff. “Go get some ginger soup.”

“Brother Tie said he’s buying ginger on his way back. He told me to just get the water ready,” Xiao Lü said. “Brother Yuan, don’t just stand in the doorway, you’ll catch a cold from the draft.”

Yuan Xingzhou blinked, moving further inside. Having never had an assistant, he was used to looking after himself on film sets. He had suffered a lot and been scolded often in the early days, which led him to carry a mini-pharmacy in his luggage. Seeing how experienced and attentive Xiao Tie and Xiao Lü were, he felt a bit envious on Ye Huai’s behalf.

He thanked Xiao Lü, but Ye Huai was glaring at the assistant with a distinctly unfriendly look.

Xiao Lü stared at them blankly for a few seconds before the lightbulb finally went off.

“Ah!” Xiao Lü suddenly exclaimed. “I’m going to go see if Brother Tie is back. With rain this heavy, he probably won’t be back for an hour or two. I’ll wait for him in the lobby!”

He dashed back to the small living room, grabbed his jacket and phone, gave Yuan Xingzhou a knowing wink, and slipped out the door.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“You’re just too nice,” Ye Huai grumbled. “Everyone thinks you’re a pushover.”

As the door clicked shut, a strange awkwardness settled over the room. Ye Huai, also feeling a bit self-conscious, tossed the bathrobe at Yuan and went into the bedroom to change.

Yuan Xingzhou hurried into the bathroom for a hot shower, then swapped with Ye Huai.

Dressed only in the bathrobe—and having no fresh underwear—Yuan Xingzhou lay on the sofa and checked his phone. Fortunately, the rain hadn’t killed it. Seeing no urgent messages, he finally allowed himself to indulge in some “fanboy” daydreaming.

I was actually kissed… and forcefully at that…

When Ye Huai had leaned down, Yuan Xingzhou felt like his heart had stopped and his limbs had turned to jelly. He had briefly worried he might die of a heart attack right there, but then thought, So what if I die on the spot? Worth it!

He clutched his chest. His “inner self” had turned into a groundhog, screaming at the top of a mountain. Then he imagined himself as a howler monkey, then a peacock strutting in front of his rivals.

Take that, Yuan Cheng! Look how beautiful I am, Li Yu! He even imagined going live on Weibo just to spite his anti-fans.

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

The fabric of the bathrobe was coarse, and since he was “commando” underneath, he suddenly realized he was having a physical reaction. His face turned bright red. Thank goodness he was alone. Just as he was trying to clear his head, the shower stopped.

“What are you doing?” Ye Huai asked as he emerged, drying his hair. He looked at Yuan suspiciously. “Who are you messaging?”

Yuan Xingzhou sat up slightly, crossing his legs to hide his embarrassment. “No one, just browsing. What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing.” Ye Huai finished drying his hair and hesitated. “You know Wen Ting has several alternate accounts, right?”

Yuan Xingzhou was confused. Why bring up Wen Ting now?

“I didn’t know. Why?”

“His IDs are basically: Huai-Zhou is Your Daddy, Huai-Zhou Number One, and Folk CP-ologist…”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

Yuan Xingzhou: “!!!!” He nearly jumped off the sofa. Huai-Zhou Number One was the exact person who had egged him on to confess!

“He knows your alternate account,” Ye Huai said, grabbing a beer from the mini-fridge. He took a sip and sat on the sofa, looking at Yuan. “The day he came to the set, he told me you’ve had a crush on me for a long time but were too afraid to confess…”

Yuan Xingzhou was torn between shock and amusement. Ye Huai, you narcissist. Even now, you’re fishing for me to say it first.

“Is that so?” Yuan Xingzhou asked, acting surprised.

Ye Huai arched an eyebrow.

“Yes!” Yuan Xingzhou said with mock-solemnity. “I’ve had a crush on you for a long time.”

Ye Huai: “…”

“Come here.” Ye Huai looked like he couldn’t handle Yuan’s antics and patted the spot next to him.

Yuan Xingzhou crawled over, thinking he was about to be interrogated about when the crush started. Instead, Ye Huai leaned down and kissed him again with practiced ease. The scent of Ye Huai’s body wash filled Yuan’s senses.

The kiss deepened, and Yuan’s phone slid unnoticed to the floor.

“You smell so good,” Ye Huai whispered against his neck after they broke for air.

“Stop it, what smell? I used the same shampoo as you,” Yuan laughed, pushing him back.

“It’s not the shampoo. It’s like… roses?” Ye Huai mused. He remembered that scent from the Arnold Arboretum at Harvard years ago—a day he’d spent alone among the roses to escape his peers.

Yuan Xingzhou, blushing, picked up his phone and sniffed his own arm. Ye Huai watched him, then leaned in for one more quick peck on the lips.

“Stop doing that!” Yuan protested, his face crimson. “Is there no end to this?”

“I see you and I want to kiss you. What am I supposed to do?” Ye Huai’s eyes were full of mischief. Then he feigned an accusation: “You provoked me first, and now you’re annoyed?”

Yuan Xingzhou wasn’t annoyed—he was overstimulated. He needed to escape before his physical state became too obvious.

After a few awkward “re-showering” cycles and borrowing some underwear from Ye Huai, the two settled down to dry their hair and play some video games.

Their peace was broken by a knock at the door. It was a crew member. “Oh, you have a guest? Hello. Teacher Ye, the rain is stopping. The director wants everyone to prepare.”

As expected: an all-nighter.

Xiao Tie brought up ginger soup, looking worried. “Filming like this… your body won’t hold up. I’ll talk to the coordinator.”

“The director arranged it,” Ye Huai said, waving him off. “I’m fine. Where’s dinner?”

They ate a meal of sour fish soup and chicken with ham and gastrodia. Yuan Xingzhou watched Ye Huai eat, noticing how much weight he had lost.

“Do you film nights often?” Yuan asked softly. “Is the coordination bad, or…?”

“It’s fine. The director is a perfectionist. Sometimes we finish a scene, he looks at the dailies, and decides to reshoot.” Ye Huai downplayed it. “It’s just exhausting because it’s all action.”

“Why not use a stunt double?”

“Fu Sheng uses one constantly, and the director is already unhappy about it. I’ll do what I can myself.”

Yuan Xingzhou nodded and put a piece of fish in Ye Huai’s bowl. “Your first major role sets the tone. Hard work isn’t wasted. If you need rest, say so; don’t force it. But if you can push through, do it.”

This director was a legend for “polishing” newcomers into award-winning stars. If he was pushing Ye Huai, it meant he saw immense potential.

Later that night, Yuan Xingzhou followed the crew to the set wearing Ye Huai’s clothes. Since he had handed out snacks earlier and was now sticking to Ye Huai like glue, the staff gave them knowing, interested looks.

The set was dark, illuminated by high-powered filming lights. Ye Huai looked sharp and striking, outshining the older Best Actor beside him. This was perfect for their roles: the calculating older brother and the radiant, sword-like younger brother.

Standing in the shadows, Yuan Xingzhou remembered the first time he saw Ye Huai, years ago at the STAR agency. He had been a “substitute” trainee, fearful of being an outsider. He had gone to find a practice room with his guitar and saw a boy entering the lobby. That one fleeting glimpse of Ye Huai’s face had stunned him into silence.

Falling for Ye Huai was easy; not falling for him would have been the hard part.

“What are you thinking about?” Ye Huai walked over during a break.

Yuan Xingzhou looked at his profile. “Thinking about you.”

Ye Huai’s face flushed. He reached out and brushed Yuan’s cheek. “If you keep acting like this… I’ll never stop wanting to kiss you.”

“Go on,” Ye Huai whispered, though he had to leave for his cue. “Don’t stay too late. Go back and sleep.”

As Ye Huai walked toward the center of the set, Fu Sheng, the Best Actor, glanced at Yuan Xingzhou. “Xiao Ye, is that person here for you?”

Ye Huai nodded, not wanting to share too much.

“He’s very good-looking,” a stunt double added. “We were just saying he looks like that famous ‘pretty boy’ actor from Japan.”

“That’s my wife,” Ye Huai said. He immediately regretted not kissing Yuan in front of everyone earlier to mark his territory.

“You two have a great relationship,” the double noted. “Look, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you.”

Ye Huai’s mood brightened. “Correct!”

“I’ll do the next scene myself,” Fu Sheng said suddenly, dismissing his double. He looked at Ye Huai with a playful glint. “I have to perform well in front of a beauty. If I outshine you… he might just fall for me instead.”

Ye Huai: “…”