Perfect Divorce [Entertainment Circle] - Chapter 46

The hotel suite was well-insulated, and after a grueling day of travel and excitement, Yuan Xingzhou slept straight through until the afternoon.

Ye Huai was gone. Xiao Lü was in the living room playing on his phone, waiting for him. Still wearing Ye Huai’s clothes, Yuan Xingzhou emerged and was immediately greeted by the assistant. “Brother Yuan, what would you like to eat? I’ll have the hotel send it up.”

“Where’s your Brother Huai?” Yuan Xingzhou glanced around, hoping he hadn’t headed back to the set already.

“He’s at the set,” Xiao Lü confirmed. “He told me to wait here for you to eat and then take you for a walk around the area.”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

The Movie & TV City here wasn’t doing particularly well. Ever since a newer, larger base opened in another province, tourism here had withered. Only on weekends did a few straggling tourists show up, prompting the vendors to open their stalls.

However, for public figures like Yuan and Ye, a scenic but deserted location was far more relaxing. Ye Huai clearly wanted to go but couldn’t, so he’d sent his assistant to accompany Yuan instead. Yuan Xingzhou found it endearing but silly—who wanted to go sightseeing with an assistant?

After a quick meal of rice noodles, Yuan headed straight back to the filming location.

Yesterday, his focus had been entirely on Ye Huai. Today, he noticed the technical details: the lighting and camera crews spent over thirty minutes debating a single prop lamp just to ensure the light on an actor’s face was both logical and beautiful. The director was a Grade-10 perfectionist, staring at the monitors with a critical eye, smiling as he encouraged the actors to give him “just one more take.”

To Yuan’s surprise, Ye Huai’s NG (No Good) rate wasn’t even the highest on set.

“I’m doing great!” Ye Huai jogged over during a break. “Why didn’t you go for a walk? The scenery is nice.”

Yuan Xingzhou handed him some water. “It’s not as good-looking as you.”

Ye Huai froze, his face flushing slightly. He looked like he wanted to smile but was too shy, so he just shot Yuan a sideways glance.

“Everyone on your crew… seems so serious,” Yuan whispered. “No one talks much.”

“The relationships are bad. Everyone looks down on everyone else,” Ye Huai said, sitting down with his legs sprawled out. “See Fu Sheng?”

Yuan looked over. Fu Sheng was sitting under a tree, flanked by two assistants; all three were silently scrolling through their phones.

“He’s the lead, but some people aren’t happy about it. They whisper behind his back that he’s ‘past his prime,'” Ye Huai said dismissively. “They look like veteran actors, but their hearts are full of sour grapes.”

Yuan was stunned. If even a Movie King like Fu Sheng faced resentment, it was no wonder the “24K pure fresh meat” Ye Huai was a target for envy.

The makeup artist arrived to touch up Ye Huai’s face. Ye Huai leaned his head on Yuan’s shoulder, tilting his face up for the artist.

“You two have such a great relationship,” the artist smiled. “Teacher Ye’s state has been completely different these last two days.”

Back when they were a fake CP, Yuan would have given a rehearsed smile. Now that it was real, he felt genuinely shy. Ye Huai’s lips quirked up. “Hear that?” he asked with his eyes closed.

“Hear what?”

“Everyone wants you to stay a few more days,” Ye Huai said. “When are you leaving?”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Tomorrow,” Yuan said reluctantly. “I have to get back and pack for my own production.”

Technically, he had a few days, but he was serious about his new role and wanted to finish his compositions. Ye Huai looked visibly disappointed. Yuan briefly considered rebooking his flight, but he knew they would have many separations in the future. If he abandoned work for love now, he’d “fade” before he even truly “blew up.”

“After I wrap my shoot,” Yuan promised, “I’ll take a break specifically to accompany you. How about that?”

“You make it sound like I’m begging you,” Ye Huai grumbled.

“I’m the one begging you,” Yuan laughed. “I’ll follow you around like a lost puppy. Even if you kick me, I won’t leave.”

Ye Huai finally tilted his head back with a satisfied grin.

“Don’t move,” the makeup artist warned, laughing. “You two are like you’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“He loves me too much,” Ye Huai teased. “I can’t help it. It’s a struggle, being this clingy.”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Clingy ghost, I won’t see you off tomorrow then,” Ye Huai said, accepting the departure with a sigh. “I have to film emotional scenes tomorrow. It’s a headache.”

In the script, Ye Huai’s character harbored a deep, hidden love for his sister-in-law—a love buried by family honor and upbringing. The director wanted Ye Huai to convey this entirely through his eyes, which Ye Huai found impossible to pull off in front of a mirror.

“Emotional scenes?” Yuan thought for a moment. “When I do those, I use…”

“Empathy?” Ye Huai asked.

“No, if you used pure empathy, you’d fall in love with every co-star. That would be a disaster,” Yuan explained. “I use ‘Emotional Memory.’ For a scene about secret pining, I recall a time I actually felt that way and channel the emotion.”

Ye Huai’s expression shifted slightly as he remembered Yuan’s recent project, Lost City. “And for kiss scenes? What do you think about then?”

Yuan blushed, glanced at the makeup artist, and whispered, “What do you think?”

Ye Huai huffed. “I wouldn’t know.”

That evening, Fu Sheng invited himself along for dinner, much to the makeup artist’s amusement and Ye Huai’s silent annoyance. “One person is too lonely,” Fu Sheng joked. “Better to have a party and break up a couple while we’re at it, right?”

Yuan Xingzhou drove them to a nearby restaurant in a villa district. During the drive, Fu Sheng—complaining about his aging back—continued the acting lesson.

“You have a ‘mysterious face,’ Ye Huai,” Fu Sheng said. “The kind that makes audiences project their own imaginations onto you. Experience can be learned, but that natural quality is rare. The director chose you specifically because you’re a newcomer. You have a ‘clumsy innocence’—the most authentic stage of an actor’s career.”

Fu Sheng looked out the window. “Xingzhou is right about emotional memory. You don’t lack emotional experiences. You just need to trigger them. Think of it like a BGM library in your head. Set a trigger point, and when you need that emotion, play the track. You aren’t lacking the emotion; you’re just not sensitive enough to it yet.”

The dinner was a healthy “wellness” meal, though Fu Sheng seemed distracted, constantly checking his phone. After the meal, he excused himself to “meet a friend” and disappeared.

Under the starlit sky, Ye Huai and Yuan sat on a bench, gossiping about where the Movie King had vanished to. Their privacy was short-lived; a call from the set informed them an actor had been injured, meaning the schedule was moved up. They had to be back by 10:00 PM.

Ye Huai cursed under his breath. Fu Sheng called moments later, sounding out of breath, telling them to wait twenty minutes so they could all head back together.

“Is Brother Fu running?” Yuan asked. “Working out in the middle of the night?”

Ye Huai shrugged. “Who cares about him? We’re running out of time to talk.”

Yuan felt the gloom of the impending separation. “Don’t feel pressured by the scene tomorrow. Just do your best.”

“Tomorrow?” Ye Huai said. “I think I have a direction now. Brother Fu’s tip was useful.”

Yuan felt a pang of jealousy. If Ye Huai was using emotional memory for a secret crush, did that mean he had a real one in the past?

“Can you tell me?” Yuan asked, his voice a bit sour. “Who did you used to have a crush on?”

“You want to hear it?” Ye Huai asked.

“Of course!”

“Then change your flight,” Ye Huai challenged. “Change it to the day after tomorrow, and I’ll tell you.”

“What does that have to do with anything!” Yuan cried. “I’m asking about your past!”

“Do you think my past is important?” Ye Huai countered. “If it’s important, stay another day. If not, it doesn’t matter if I tell you, right?”

Yuan felt a bit downcast. He assumed Ye Huai was just making excuses to avoid the topic. But then he decided to be thick-skinned.

“No,” Yuan said firmly. “I have to leave tomorrow, but I still want to hear it.”

Ye Huai blinked, then laughed. “You… you’re totally unreasonable.”

“I am. We’re dating. Who cares about being reasonable?”

Ye Huai chuckled, a sound that made Yuan’s heart skip. Yuan nudged him with his shoulder. “So, who was it?”

Ye Huai looked at him, his face becoming unreadable. Yuan gave him a quick, feline peck on the corner of his mouth, looking both smug and sweet.

“You…” Ye Huai cleared his throat. “It was…”

Yuan leaned in, ears perked, only for a loud voice to boom across the courtyard.

“Let’s go! Time to make money!” Fu Sheng stood at the gate, looking rejuvenated. “No dating on the clock! You two are being excessive…”

Yuan Xingzhou: “…”

“Fuck…” Ye Huai muttered, his eyes flashing with irritation. “Is he suffering from premature ejaculation? It’s only been five minutes!”