Stop Flirting, I Can't Take It - Chapter 1

Jiang Shang Bai Yu Jie (Ascending the White Jade Steps) is the first collaboration between renowned director Fang Zhouji and the rising screenwriter He Songyun, a costume drama project featuring two male leads.

This morning, the official Weibo account announced the casting results from two weeks ago: renowned and powerful actor Song Xueyan and the obscure, “three-nothing” newcomer Yan Qi had stood out through three rounds of auditions and would potentially serve as the leads of the drama.

The news caught everyone off guard, and it also made this highly anticipated new drama a massive hit before filming even began.

The wildfire of public opinion was so intense it nearly “burned the official Weibo account bald.”

Yan Qi leaned back against the car seat, clicking on Weibo during a spare moment.

Half a day had passed, and the topic was still hanging high on the trending search list.

Opening it, he found the comment section filled with “Zu’an warriors” (internet trolls). Every other comment read, “Yan Qi, get the f*** out!” It was amusing. Scrolling down a few more pages, he found the screen flooded with the sour, vinegary jealousy of “You 180th-tier nobody, don’t touch my wife Song Xueyan” and mindless babble like “Capital, let go of my poor wife.”

A rough glance revealed a few popular questions:

“Which ‘Capital Daddy’ let Yan Qi out to play as a hobby? Does a little turtle touching some seawater really think it’s seafood?”

“Is Yan Qi’s ass plated with gold to be able to sell for this price?”

“To promote someone, the Capital is really riding a merry-go-round naked shamelessly spinning around, aren’t they?”

“Being crushed by a newcomer, may I ask if our industry is out of male actors?”

“Did Yan Qi save Song Xueyan’s life in a past life, only to jump out of the coffin now to play the debt collector?”

In short, if Song Xueyan was an immortal peach placed on a pedestal, Yan Qi was the cheeky monkey reaching out to touch it.

Climbing above his station was a violation of heavenly law, destined to be struck by lightning.

“The online abuse is sky-high, and Song Xueyan’s fans in the industry are also privately spilling vinegar, digging around for your background.”

His manager, Feng Zhui, twirled his poop-yellow phone charm in front of his chest, fanning the flames. “You’re an enemy of the industry now. What are your thoughts?”

He had earned the spot through his own ability, yet had inexplicably brought insult and abuse upon himself. Most importantly, it had implicated his family; even his ancestors, who had already been someone else’s grandchildren, were not left in peace. Yan Qi felt both annoyed and speechless, both toward the people in the comment section and toward Song Xueyan.

He said, “Song Xueyan’s persona is built quite solidly.”

Feng Zhui gripped his phone firmly. “How so?”

“As a mentally sound adult, he voluntarily accepted this role. Not only is the pay higher than before, but under the protection of Yaoguang Entertainment, he can temporarily avoid persecution from his old agency he’s getting all the benefits. Yet, the comment section treats him like a poor, aggrieved little soul, talking about ‘capital’s heavy fist,’ saying even an immortal has to kneel to nurture a ‘Crown Prince’.”

Yan Qi sneered. “This wave of pity do they really think Song Xueyan is an immortal who doesn’t eat the food of mortals? Or are their brains missing a piece?”

Feng Zhui joked, “He’s a beauty, after all; people love to pity him. Especially someone like Song Xueyan, whose beauty is so distant it keeps people at arm’s length; his smile is worth a thousand gold. How many people have held heartfelt wishes to buy a smile from him, only to have their hearts crushed? He is like a White Moonlight, and the halo above his head is like the Tower of Babel.”

“Tower of Babel?”

Yan Qi was shocked. “Do they want to send this immortal back to the West (Heaven)? The fan filters must be higher than the sky, right?”

Feng Zhui laughed, not daring to mention that when Song Xueyan debuted, he had engaged in hundreds of comment-wars with haters online.

Yan Qi watched dramas, but he had three “no-watches”: no long, drawn-out plots; no dog-blood melodramas or sappy romance; and no heavy, tragic, or realistic dramas.

The last rule eliminated all of Song Xueyan’s works, so Yan Qi had never even seen Song Xueyan on screen, let alone known how good-looking he was.

But Yan Qi had heard of Song Xueyan’s reputation.

Things like, “Cold moon and clear bamboo, bright dust and snow; a casual glance and I lose blood,” and “Jade face, ice-porcelain bones, a face fairer than snow, a person more delicate than flowers. Willow waist, legs like spring silk, a red mole on his lips, clear, beautiful, and nearly demonic; the corners of his eyes have a charm like a heart-stabbing knife.”

The first time Yan Qi heard these phrases from his assistant, his goosebumps stood up and saluted the world.

Glancing at Yan Qi through the rearview mirror, Feng Zhui comforted him, “As long as you pass today, the production team will finalize the casting, and that will be a slap in the face to them. No matter how cold Song Xueyan is, we’ll melt him. Don’t be afraid!”

“Excuse me,” Yan Qi said, sitting with confident posture. “I’ve never been afraid in my life.”

The Cayenne pulled into the parking garage and stopped in the reserved space.

Yan Qi got out, pocketed his phone, and shoved the screen full of doubt and abuse into his back pocket.

Feng Zhui gave a few instructions to the driver and followed him to the elevator.

“Actually, your current situation is quite similar to Song Xueyan’s when he debuted. Back then, Director Fang wrote and directed Black Cliff, and the cast was full of big names. But when everyone found out the second male lead was just a fresh graduate from university with no formal training, and they took a look holy sht*, he was so damn pretty the internet went crazy.”

Feng Zhui spread his arms dramatically, nearly slapping Yan Qi, who grabbed his arm and pinned him against the elevator door.

“An incredibly good-looking newcomer taking the second seat in a luxurious cast stirred up rumors. At that time, it was rumored that Song Xueyan had ‘py’ (sexual) transactions with Director Fang and investors. Later, it escalated to spreading ‘ironclad evidence’ that he was kept by a wealthy businessman during college. Song Xueyan’s college dance video was dug up, his leg-splits and stretches were taken out of context and discussed lewdly. Before he officially debuted, he was subjected to large-scale cyberbullying.”

Behind all this were, of course, countless teams and capital operations, but behind those foul words hid countless festering, pus-filled hearts.

Yan Qi’s expression was cold. “Voyeurism is a part of human nature.”

The elevator door opened, and Feng Zhui and Yan Qi walked in. “But after Black Cliff aired, Song Xueyan rebounded from the bottom, and his popularity even surpassed the male lead. Not long after, people were predicting that Song Xueyan’s debut was his peak, but he kept showing his edge throughout the journey and hasn’t sheathed it since.”

In the industry, fanboys wanting to work with Song Xueyan were everywhere. Every time they were asked about him in interviews, their voices would tremble, and they would add with hesitation, “Oh, I’m not gay, I just admire Teacher Song.” Veteran actors who had worked with him called him “frighteningly talented,” and directors and screenwriters praised him as a “treasure.” These were his halos.

Since his debut, whenever he took a leading role, Song Xueyan only accepted realistic subjects, and he never took roles with romantic subplots. So, let alone scandals, he didn’t even have an onscreen couple.

But Ascending the White Jade Steps had unexpectedly broken the status quo.

Song Xueyan’s first onscreen romance would likely be with a “three-nothing” nobody who had no fame, no quality guarantee, and whose photos couldn’t even be found on the internet. It was like a highly career-driven wealthy socialite suddenly being exposed as having a romance, and then the boyfriend was dug up to be a short, ugly, soft-rice-eating man.

Could the netizens not let their imaginations run wild? Could the fans not be anxious? Could the losers pining for the socialite not shout, “Oh no!”?

Yan Qi scanned the rising floor numbers. “I heard that since his debut, Song Xueyan has been nominated for Best Supporting Actor once and Best Actor four times at the three major domestic awards?”

“That’s right, but unfortunately, he’s a true ‘non-chief’ (unlucky). Every time he goes up against veteran actors with far greater seniority and prestige.” Feng Zhui felt a deep sense of pity. Some are ‘beautiful, strong, and tragic,’ but he is ‘beautiful, strong, and unlucky.'”

Yan Qi also thought it was a pity, but being able to compete for awards multiple times against veteran actors as a newcomer was enough to prove that this man was amazing.

Feng Zhui said, “The drama Dangerous Situations he filmed before should be airing soon. Let’s see if he can defy fate this time.”

The elevator door opened, and the two walked out.

Seeing they were almost there, Feng Zhui said, “Fans have filters and love to praise him, but Song Xueyan’s ‘beauty’ is a fact. In any case, you’ll see for yourself once you meet him.”

Yan Qi half-closed his eyes and replied perfunctorily, “I’m looking forward to it.”

The door to room 9901 was slightly ajar. Yan Qi knocked three times and pushed the door open.

He strode in, while Feng Zhui, who had stopped at the door, couldn’t help but feel like an anxious mother.

The casting result announced this morning was like a teaser, but today’s audition was, to be precise, a scene test between the two leads.

Labels like “love-hate relationship” and “strong-on-strong” required high chemistry and tension. If the audition effect was poor, Fang Zhouji would definitely demand a change in actors. He was notoriously demanding and didn’t like to settle.

Therefore, only by passing this hurdle could the teaser become an official announcement.

Feng Zhui piously rubbed his hands and took out the career amulet he had sought at the temple.

The living room was empty, and the bedroom door was left ajar. Yan Qi stepped forward and pushed it open.

The door faced the terrace, where a tall man stood by the window.

It was July, and the man was wearing a white satin long-sleeved shirt. Between his jet-black short hair and his collar was a long, slender, white neck. His shoulders were flat, his back straight, like a string waiting to be plucked. The fabric below his waistline was tucked into his trousers, his hips slightly lifted, and his slightly loose black floor-length pants hid his legs completely.

Ice-porcelain bones, willow waist, legs like spring silk.

The man turned slightly, glancing over.

The warmth and flawlessness of jade were spread over his skin and penetrated into his marrow, making him calm and cold from the inside out.

Yan Qi had seen countless beauties, men and women, charming or gentle, handsome or exquisite. He didn’t consider himself easily attracted by appearances, but when he regained his senses, he realized with a start that he had been staring blankly.

He didn’t know how to use flowery rhetoric; he could only write realistically—the rainbow-fart skills of Song Xueyan’s fans were too low; they weren’t even as good as his elementary school-aged brother.

Yan Qi released his curled fingers with a sense of dissatisfaction and stepped forward. “Hello.”

As if trying to establish dominance, he pinned Song Xueyan’s profile with his gaze. “I’m Yan Qi.”

The wind chimes on the wooden railing swayed in the breeze, and the pink-white gradient blossom at the very top brushed against Song Xueyan’s fingertips. Yan Qi’s gaze followed, discovering that Song Xueyan was wearing a strand of green jade beads on his left wrist, each one lustrous.

With quality like this, even the Shangfeiyu Studio might not be able to find such a piece.

Yan Qi took a couple of extra looks, inexplicably feeling that the bracelet looked familiar, but searching his memory, he found no clues.

The wind chimes were still swaying, and Song Xueyan tapped the petals, signaling for them to settle down.

The hand supporting the flower was long and slender, the nails neatly trimmed and clean, looking like a pink-white wind chime that had gained consciousness, crossed species to practice cultivation with bamboo, melting into a tall, clear elegance and a delicate beauty.

Yan Qi’s Adam’s apple rolled, regretting not bringing the mineral water from the car.

He did not retract his gaze; his stare was impossible to ignore.

Song Xueyan turned his head. Yan Qi’s features were handsome and sharp, his arrogant and wild energy undisguised, and even his way of looking at people was direct and unceremonious. Song Xueyan maintained a cold, polite demeanor under such a stare and reached out a hand, saying, “Hello, I am Song Xueyan.”

The two hands clasped.

In less than two seconds, Song Xueyan pulled his hand away, his attitude cold, though his fingertips inevitably brushed Yan Qi’s palm.

Yan Qi lowered his hand, his palm feeling slightly numb. He was still looking at Song Xueyan, staring at the man’s mouth.

The red mole was on the lower lip, slightly to the right. It was a tiny speck, but Song Xueyan was so fair, and his lip color was light, inexplicably revealing a sickly, lethargic aura, which made the mole look extraordinarily gorgeous.

Like plum blossoms pinned against dust and snow; it truly deserved to be called “clear, beautiful, and nearly demonic.”

Song Xueyan turned his head again after being stared at by Yan Qi. This time, his gaze held a hint of humanity—uncomprehending and dislike floated on the surface; if one looked closely, one could even pick out the gentleness he had when looking at the flower; his likes and dislikes were distinct.

Yan Qi retreated and retracted his gaze as if escaping. His ear tips were faintly hot, and he gave his own mind a punch in annoyance.

Damn it, can’t you show a little more composure for someone who has seen countless beauties!

He couldn’t help but glance at Song Xueyan again. The other man had already lowered his head to look at the flowers. That profile was cast in a thin, pale light under the sun, and his long, thin eyelashes cast a lazy, weary shadow beneath his eyes.

In the blink of an eye, Yan Qi thought: Appreciating beauty is human nature. Even if the Jade Emperor came rushing in with nine thunderbolts, he wouldn’t be wrong.

As the atmosphere grew silent, the door was pushed open again.

Fang Zhouji was carrying his black bag. Seeing the two standing by the window like statues, he couldn’t help but joke, “Haha, you two look quite compatible standing together.”

Yan Qi felt that the famous director’s ability to choose his words needed improvement. Just as he was about to correct him, Song Xueyan in his peripheral vision had already turned and walked toward Fang Zhouji, saying in that beautiful voice that sounded like a clear spring hitting stone, “You’re late.”

“Late by three minutes. I’m quite outrageous. Let me apologize to you both first.” Fang Zhouji opened his black bag and took out the equipment. “I came alone today. I’ll just film a segment to see if your feelings in front of the lens are on point.”

Song Xueyan said, “Which part are we auditioning?”

Fang Zhouji set up the tripod, got up, and adjusted the equipment. “We aren’t trying a specific part. I just want to see a scene of intimacy.”

Song Xueyan said nothing.

Yan Qi placed his phone on a side table, also remaining silent.

Feng Zhui had said that Song Xueyan didn’t take romance dramas, and would firmly reject even the best resources, leaving the outside world guessing about the reasons.

For example, he might be a member of the “I didn’t understand love until I met the right person” group, or perhaps his heart was set on the “merciless path” despite living in the red dust, or he had closed his heart to heal from pain…

Song Xueyan looked calm and indifferent, and Yan Qi couldn’t tell for a moment if this person was forcibly suppressing his dislike. He didn’t want to see Song Xueyan in a difficult position and wanted to act like a gentleman, but auditioning was official business, and it was an actor’s duty to follow the script.

After hesitating for a few seconds, he still didn’t say anything.

Seeing that neither of them responded, Fang Zhouji said, “Shy?”

Without waiting for them to answer, he nodded to himself. “Both of you are first-timers, so I came alone today just to make you both feel more comfortable.”

“Thank you for your kindness,” Song Xueyan said rigidly. “I’m not shy.”

Fang Zhouji laughed happily. “Alright! You don’t have to create the atmosphere of a costume drama later; you don’t even have to say a word. I just want to see the atmosphere and feeling when you are together. I want you to communicate with your eyes and engage intimately.”

Song Xueyan unbuttoned two buttons, revealing a piece of beautiful, exquisite collarbone. “For real?”

When did I tell you to kiss for real?

Fang Zhouji was stunned, but he hadn’t expected Song Xueyan to be so cooperative! He was delighted and said, “For real!”

Yan Qi was still pondering Song Xueyan’s thoughts. Upon hearing this, he quickly said, “I’ve never dated before. I, I don’t know how to kiss!”

Just a moment ago, he had been like a ferocious, wild-dog fighter, but this remark sounded a bit shy. Yan Qi had just graduated from university not long ago and had indeed never dated.

Song Xueyan twirled the jade beads on his wrist, hearing the wind outside the window become even more restless.

Turning his head, he saw the wind chimes swinging merrily.

“That’s fine. Our Teacher Song is also a pure young man.” Fang Zhouji thought it was quite interesting to let two little daisies compete in romance. “Grasp it yourselves. Don’t feel pressured. Do whatever you want.”

Yan Qi’s brows furrowed. Grasp it myself? How do I grasp it!

“Engage intimately” did that mean a bed scene? What level of intensity? Do we have to take off our clothes? Take off the top or the bottom? Don’t tell me we have to take them off together… and then what? Just lie there straight, or do we have to coordinate some professional movements… Damn it! Isn’t Song Xueyan an immortal? Doesn’t he never take romance roles? What on earth is he thinking this time?!

As his thoughts churned and his expression grew anxious, a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

Yan Qi looked up in a daze. The moment he met Song Xueyan’s eyes, he was suddenly pushed down onto the edge of the bed.