Stop Flirting, I Can't Take It - Chapter 5

Fang Zhouji was shocked.

“I only said ‘stay together,’ and you already thought of living together and even in one bed? Young man, you’re young and vigorous, and your thinking is quite flexible!”

“Ah!”

“Uh…” The young man held his phone, feeling his face burn a little and his mind getting a bit “dirty.”

Fang Zhouji sent a schedule and said, “After joining the crew, we will start with a script reading and blocking. It’s to let the actors get familiar with the script and the production team. Once filming officially begins, we’ll also arrange small-scale readings according to the plot. You two should live together for a week first; if you have any questions during this time, you can ask Xueyan for advice nearby. Once you get familiar with each other, you can go back to your own homes. If you have no objections, I’ll book a suite at MS then so you can get comfortable and get to know each other how about that?”

A suite? That’s not so bad.

Yan Qi breathed a sigh of relief and replied: “I have a luxury suite card for MS.”

Fang Zhouji: “Then you pay for it! I’ll push Xueyan’s WeChat account to you; go ahead and add him.”

Yan Qi: “Oh!”

The two ended the conversation, and Fang Zhouji sent over Song Xueyan’s WeChat account.

Song Xueyan’s WeChat nickname was just “Song,” and both his avatar and Moments were completely blank.

“It really fits his persona.” Yan Qi muttered as he sent a friend request. He expected to wait for a while, but to his surprise, Song Xueyan accepted the request almost instantly.

Out of respect and politeness to his senior, he took the initiative to greet him: “Hello, Teacher Song, I am Yan Qi.”

Ten seconds… one minute… five minutes passed, and Song Xueyan did not reply.

Yan Qi slowly sat up straight. Did Song Xueyan put his phone down after accepting the friend request and miss it? But from the time he accepted the request to the greeting, only about five seconds had passed—is it really that coincidental?

“Did he do it on purpose? A show of power? Or is he taking revenge for me throwing him down today?” Yan Qi was so angry he punched his pillow. “What a scheming, vengeful man!”

The bedroom door was knocked on, and Fu Yanle’s voice came through: “A-Qi, baby, want some watermelon? I picked a sweet one at the supermarket on my way back!”

“Eat!” Yan Qi got out of bed and ran over with long strides.

When the door opened, Fu Yanle handed the chilled watermelon with a spoon in it to Yan Qi and said sensitively: “Who made our little princess unhappy?”

The watermelon was red and sweet, remarkably similar to the “spring tide” on Song Xueyan’s face. Fu Yanle was exquisite and pretty, which reminded him of Song Xueyan’s face carved from snow and jade. Although the faint rose and wine fragrance didn’t have any connection to Song Xueyan’s scent, they were both fragrant.

His thoughts jumping around, Yan Qi couldn’t help but lash out: “I’m so sick of you good-looking, fragrant people!”

Fu Yanle kicked Yan Qi into the room and reached out to slam the bedroom door shut with a “bang.”

Yan Qi sat on a small round rug by the bed holding the watermelon, gripping the spoon, chewing on the watermelon juice while staring fixedly at his phone screen.

After half the watermelon was gone, Song Xueyan finally replied.

Song: “Hello. Sorry, I went to boil some medicine just now and didn’t reply in time.”

“Medicine?” Yan Qi instantly remembered Song Xueyan’s listless complexion. “Could it be that he’s sick?”

He released the spoon, typed a few characters in the input field, then hurriedly deleted them just as he was about to hit send. “What does it have to do with me?”

Yan Qi put down his phone and held the watermelon with a sullen face. After a few seconds, he picked it up again and consoled himself: “Checking on a future partner is also reasonable. We’re adults, after all; who doesn’t have to say a few hypocritical words to smooth things over? Why am I so professional, careful, and considerate? I’m truly amazing.”

Powerful Boy: [Are you feeling unwell?]

It was another “short essay” he had pondered for a long time.

Song Xueyan’s mouth curled up slightly, and he replied: [A minor ailment, nothing to worry about.]

An unknown number called him, and Song Xueyan hung up directly. When he returned to the WeChat interface, Yan Qi had already replied.

Powerful Boy: [Oh, take care of yourself, don’t let it delay work.]

Song Xueyan could imagine the expression on Yan Qi’s face while typing this—probably keeping a straight face, maintaining the dignity of a “cool boy” at all times. He replied with an “Okay.” After logging out, he received a new message.

The sender was the unsaved number from just a moment ago.

[If you don’t want to show face, then don’t! Song Xueyan, what kind of ‘hoarding goods to make a fortune’ game are you playing, damn it!]

Song Xueyan deleted the text message without a ripple, blocked the number, turned off the light, and lay down. He lowered the air conditioning by two degrees, used his feet to hook the quilt folded at the end of the bed onto his legs, and then pulled it up to his chest.

The moonlight was rejected by the curtains, and the room was shrouded in gloom.

Outside of working hours, Song Xueyan was accustomed to an “underworld” schedule of staying up all night, sleeping in the morning, and waking up in the afternoon.

However, Fu Yanle was extremely dissatisfied with this and had repeatedly ordered him to go to bed early and wake up early to return to the healthy and long-lived path as soon as possible.

Song Xueyan promised verbally but was caught repeatedly, which made Fu Yanle so angry that half a year ago he had written a PowerPoint presentation titled “Young Man, You Are Committing Chronic Suicide.” It used various case studies to fully illustrate the loss of life caused by an “underworld” schedule and printed it into a booklet, requiring him to read it every Monday, holding “Go to bed early and wake up early, never court death” as his creed.

The night he received the printed PowerPoint booklet, Song Xueyan read it back and forth, and by the time he went to bed in the morning, he could recite it backward.

The PowerPoint booklet had been sitting on the bedside table for half a month when Fu Yanle suddenly showed up with a psychologist.

That’s right, it wasn’t that he was willing to reverse his days and nights, but he couldn’t fall asleep normally. Song Xueyan didn’t know how Fu Yanle realized it, but facing his friend’s worried and angry gaze, he accepted treatment.

The psychologist was found by Yu Jingchen, nicknamed “Wang Guanyong” (Wang is Effective), sporting a gold-lettered signboard with extremely high fees; his skills went without saying. But half a year later, “Wang Guanyong” still wasn’t “effective,” because the person who could save him had not yet come to his side.

A faint light turned on by the bedside. Song Xueyan, unaware, turned on his phone anyway.

The discussion about the casting list had been fermenting for a day. Because the direct message function for non-followers had always been closed, his Weibo account was peaceful.

But under the official Weibo of the drama and Fang Zhouji’s Weibo, it was extremely lively. Searching for keywords in the input field brought up all sorts of entries and posts.

Song Xueyan didn’t want to look at those foul and boring speculations, so he chose a relatively rational discussion entry: #I traveled over mountains and rivers for Yan Qi, rationally and politely exploring this mysterious gentleman#

[I’ve scoured the internet but haven’t found a single photo of Yan Qi. What kind of background does he have, damn it? Does anyone know if this brother is round or flat? At least let me know what he looks like, otherwise, I can’t sleep! (Song fans and Fu fans entering, please don’t scold the newcomer first, don’t cause trouble for our two brothers)]

Neither round nor flat; long and lean, very handsome.

Song Xueyan answered remotely and clicked on the hot comment section.

[There are all kinds of conspiracy theories next door, but I think those speculations are unlikely. ① Fang Zhouji never wrongs himself by using people he doesn’t want to. A-Song is a “perfectionist” when it comes to work. If Yan Qi wasn’t capable, why would they be silent? ② Maybe because of the pressure of capital, the two can’t speak up? But Yan Qi is a signed artist of Yaoguang. Of course, Yaoguang can ask A-Song to make a friendly appearance as a stepping stone to promote a newcomer, but can just any stray cat or dog get into Yaoguang? ③ Speculating that Huaying is playing tricks is just absurd. Even if Huaying and Yaoguang have cooperated before, Yaoguang wouldn’t sacrifice a key project to help it suppress A-Song, right?]

[Some fans speculate that A-Song was suppressed by capital, I… then may I ask, how did he dare to terminate his contract with Huaying back then? Not only did it consume energy and financial resources, but he also lost his protective shade. If he was impulsive then, and afraid of not having dramas to film now, Dangerous Situations is a project invested in by Huaying, isn’t he still the lead?]

[“Ascending” is a key project for Yaoguang, so first of all, Yaoguang wouldn’t mess around. Then, if Huaying wanted to suppress Song, why would they allow him to be the lead in Yaoguang’s S+ project, damn it! Furthermore, if Huaying played tricks at this time, it would be shaking Yaoguang’s interests. Again, I saw someone say A-Song was “kidnapped by friendship” by Little Fu, saying they have a plastic friendship… Are you looking for a beating? If you are, go to @Little Fu and let him satisfy you. In short, I think Song is volunteering.]

[Three possibilities: The worst is that Yan Qi’s background is too powerful (or he has a relationship with the brother-in-law/Little Fu), making the brother-in-law sacrifice Yaoguang’s reputation to pave the way for him. The second possibility is that he is too handsome/has too much talent, satisfying Yaoguang and Fang Zhouji’s hiring standards. The best possibility is that he is the second “Song Xueyan”.]

[Although the third possibility is very small, I am willing to trade ten years of being single so my wife’s onscreen first love can be a match for him. (Kneeling)]

[If heaven opens its eyes, I am willing to reincarnate for three lifetimes and still remain a single king. (Kneeling)]

[My heart is sincere; in the next life, I am willing to be castrated and raised by the single king.]

Fortunately, Heaven had already opened its eyes before this, otherwise wouldn’t there be castrated pigs running all over the ground?

After flipping through a few more posts, he found that many fans were still rational. Song Xueyan turned over and logged out of Weibo.

Sui Qiong had been in contact with Yan Qi for fifteen years. After opening his private photo album, he saw the whole screen was full of chat screenshots, but “Song Xueyan” had only added Yan Qi on WeChat tonight, with only a few sparse lines of conversation.

Looking at the chat screenshots, the image of Yan Qi appeared in Song Xueyan’s mind.

Holding a basketball, typing with one hand, a white towel wrapped around his neck, his young and handsome face sprinkled with soft sunlight; lying on the bed propped by his arms, his hair blown into smooth fur, like a harmless big dog; leaning on a motorcycle, long legs propping him up, his slender and powerful fingers wrapped in black fingerless gloves…

Some were seen with his own eyes while hiding in the crowd; some were just his pale fantasies. They synthesized into a string of light and shadow, allowing him to drink poison to quench his thirst, having a slight solace.

The last screenshot slid past. It was past 5:00 AM. Song Xueyan felt no sleepiness, and when he turned his head, his eyes met the ornament on the bedside table.

It was a white square sign, with eight bold red characters engraved on it—Live well, never court death.

This was a small item sent over half a year ago along with the PowerPoint. Standing behind the sign was a small white figure with one leg raised high; the figure was supporting the sign with one foot while holding its own throat with one hand, with a baring-teeth-and-claws look that was very much like Fu Yanle’s threat: “If you don’t listen, I’ll hang myself on your bedpost.”

Coincidentally, as soon as he thought of Fu Yanle, Fu Yanle’s WeChat call came through, scaring Song Xueyan into quickly turning his phone face-down on the bed, only breathing a sigh of relief after the ringing stopped.

This was Fu Yanle’s usual arrest method: he would send him a WeChat message when he got up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

Sometimes, if he woke up early in the morning, he would give him a WeChat call. Once he replied to the message or answered the call, he would immediately be met with Fu Yanle’s “gentle” greetings.

Because Fu Yanle knew he was accustomed to setting his phone to silent before going to sleep, he couldn’t use “I was woken up by the ringing” as an excuse when he got caught.

Fu Yanle didn’t continue the arrest, but Song Xueyan felt guilty and unjust. He got up to boil an egg, paired it with the bread and milk Fu Yanle had meticulously arranged, and ate a reasonably nutritious breakfast.

It was 6:00 AM when he returned to bed, and sleepiness washed over him out of habit. Song Xueyan put on an eye mask in the darkness and fell asleep quietly.

Perhaps because he was in a comfortable mood, Song Xueyan slept very soundly this time.

He was woken up by soft fur. When he opened his eyes, a nest of clean white was curled up by his chest. Song Xueyan woke up for a moment, sat up sluggishly, and Wangye slid from his chest onto his legs, adjusting its posture to continue lazily resting its head on him.

Song Xueyan looked down at it. “Your father is here, are you happy?”

After receiving this cat, he took on the role of godfather, often showing it photos of Yan Qi and educating it not to forget its real father.

Wangye ignored this and seemed to have forgotten its ancestors and father long ago.

Song Xueyan rubbed it with some dissatisfaction and said: “I’m about to enter the crew; I have to find a time to send you to Uncle Fang’s house.”

Previously, when he joined a crew to film, he would send Wangye to Fang Zhouji’s house. Fang Zhouji lived with his parents, and even if he was too busy to go home, those kind and benevolent elders could look after it on his behalf.

However, now that Yan Qi had not only come to Nandu but also met Fang Zhouji, Song Xueyan felt he had to give Fang Zhouji a warning, lest he get an impulsive idea to bring Wangye to the crew and let this pair of father and son recognize each other on the spot.

Picking up his phone, he saw it was past 6:00 PM. He and Fang Zhouji had tentatively set the time for transporting Wangye, and he was just hesitating whether to eat noodles or drink porridge in the evening when Fu Yanle’s WeChat message arrived.

Yanle: [Baby, time to wake up! (Bear head leaning in gif)]

Song Xueyan replied: “Just woke up.”

Yanle: “Eat something quickly, pack up, I’ll come pick you up at 8:00 PM!”

Song Xueyan: “Where to?”

Yanle: “Enjoy supreme human bliss!”

Song Xueyan scratched Wangye, who was grumbling to itself because it had been neglected, and asked: “Boxing or eating noodles?”

Fu Yanle sent a voice message directly.

“Watching men.”