The Entire Entertainment Industry Knows the Best Actor Has a Crush on Me - Chapter 27

“Congratulations on wrapping up your scenes.”

Pei Yuan took the flowers Qiao Zhiyu handed him, testing the waters as he spoke: “Did you prepare these specifically for me?”

“Mhm…”

That answer brought a wave of genuine pleasure to his heart. On a nearby table sat several bouquets from the crew, but Pei Yuan reached into the pile and pulled out a single pink carnation. He waved it gently in front of Qiao Zhiyu’s eyes.

“I love the sunflowers and lilies you gave me. Here, take a carnation in return to express my thanks.”

The soft petals brushed against Qiao Zhiyu’s reddened eyes, causing him to instinctively lean back. He took the flower, and after a moment of silence, asked: “Are you leaving right away?”

Seeing the faint red rimming Qiao’s eyes, Pei Yuan felt a mix of joy and heartache. “I’ll leave as soon as I finish packing. Once I’ve cleared my backlog of work, I’ll come back for the reshoots. I’ll leave Bai Chao here to accompany you.”

“What about you then? You don’t have to take care of me like this…” Qiao Zhiyu hesitated, unsure of how to put his feelings into words.

They seemed to be brewing something between them, waiting for a moment. Despite the noisy surroundings, a localized silence fell over the two.

“Movie Star Pei, Teacher Qiao! Look over here!”

Click! The image was frozen in time, and the unspoken words were sealed deep within their hearts.

That night, when Qiao Zhiyu returned to the hotel after filming, everything belonging to the other person had vanished. The already small space now felt incredibly vast and empty.

Bai Chao didn’t stay behind in the end because Qiao Zhiyu wouldn’t allow it. Before he left, Qiao sent him a 3,000-yuan red envelope as a “hard work bonus” for the extra care provided over the past few months.

He pulled the fake flowers out of the hotel vase, replaced the water, and looked up a tutorial on flower care. He carefully arranged the fresh flowers in the vase. How long can a flower without roots live? He stared at them dazed for a moment. Finding the room too quiet, he turned on the television for the first time.

However, the TV seemed to be in disrepair perhaps a network issue as it failed to display a picture. Never mind, he thought.

Filming continued as normal the next day. People came and went on set, yet Qiao Zhiyu felt as though many had left. Several actors had already wrapped up their parts: Bei Qianqing, the actor playing the Crown Prince, and Pei Yuan. Soon, he would be leaving too.

Time truly flies. Three months felt like nothing, just as nineteen years had.

In the drama, Ji Yuli was dead, as was the Emperor. The remaining weak factions thought Chu Mingxin, a “woman,” couldn’t stir up any trouble, but the reveal of a succession decree slapped them all in the face. They refused to believe it, checking the handwriting, the seal, and even the tiny embroidery on the scroll, but they found no flaws.

The masses finally accepted that the new ruler was a “woman” only for him to then appear as a man. The only remaining ground for opposition crumbled. Ruan Yuan, who had followed him faithfully, predictably became the Prime Minister.

After ascending the throne, Chu Mingxin cleared out those who had opposed him. It was the standard procedure for any new Emperor. Enter the palace as a slave? Non-existent. Anyone who could be killed was not spared.

Once the dust settled, Chu Mingxin fell gravely ill. His health plummeted, and a cough at every third step became his new normal. Sitting in the position he had always desired didn’t bring him much joy. Being a man again didn’t feel much different.

On camera, Chu Mingxin was wrapped in layers upon layers of clothing, yet his face remained pale and sickly. Several ministers sat below him, including some rising stars. At the head of them, closest to the Emperor, was Ruan Yuan. The latter was now married, having just celebrated his son’s full-month milestone.

Chu Mingxin never mistreated his old allies; he rewarded Ruan Yuan with ten thousand pieces of gold and a grand estate. His family was allowed to enter the palace at will, and his children were exempt from kneeling.

Chu Mingxin let out a low cough, raising a hand to interrupt the arguing ministers below. They had been bickering over trifles for ages.

“You can’t even decide on such minor matters? Do I need to hold your hands and teach you personally?”

The ministers quickly feigned terror, prattling on about being “frightened” and “not daring.” Feeling exhausted, he waved them away. Chu Mingxin leaned back against a soft cushion. Sensing a shadow approaching, he narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Prime Minister Ruan, why haven’t you left yet?”

Ruan Yuan pulled the fox-fur cloak tighter around him. “Did Your Highness fail to sleep well again last night?”

“Mhm… I’m afraid those few can’t handle things. Remember to keep an eye on them.”

“Yes…”

By the time Ruan Yuan looked up again, the person before him was asleep. He watched him quietly for a moment before leaving with light footsteps. The camera panned away, finally settling on Ruan Yuan returning home. His loving wife was waiting at the door. He kissed his infant child, hugged his wife, and the family looked warm and happy. As they walked into the courtyard and his wife teased the baby, Ruan Yuan’s expression went blank for a split second.

It was as if the warmth before him was but a bubble, liable to vanish in an instant.

On the night he left the set, Qiao Zhiyu ran into his fans again. However, his own fans were still in the minority. He stared at the support merchandise featuring Pei Yuan’s face and name, falling into deep thought.

“Sister Jiao, pull over for a second. I want to get out.”

“Sure. Count the heads and I’ll order some milk tea. It’s so cold; we can’t let these girls freeze.”

Qi Le’an was confused. “Why are Movie Star Pei’s fans here too? Are they here for Zhiyu?”

Qi Le’an was in the car, as was Yu Yuan. Neither had an assistant, and their managers weren’t available for the pickup. Knowing this, Gu Jiao had proactively offered them a ride. Qi Le’an’s mouth formed an ‘O’ shape, thinking: [Have you two already reached the stage where the fans recognize the ‘ship’?!]

Yu Yuan read his mind instantly and gave a deadpan look. “Maybe they just got the schedule wrong.”

“Hahaha… right…”

Outside, the “Bridesmaids” (Pei’s fans) who had mistaken the schedule were in a state of collapse upon realizing their idol had already left. Some chose to go home, while others stayed since they were already there.

“Wait, everyone! I’ll take a photo and send it to Teacher Pei.”

Those who were about to leave stopped in their tracks. Qiao Zhiyu sent the photo to Pei Yuan with the caption: [Your fans got the schedule wrong. If they get charmed by me, you won’t have them anymore~]

He rarely made such jokes, but they hadn’t spoken in a while, and he didn’t want to be too stiff. Within five seconds, a video call request popped up.

Qiao Zhiyu grew nervous. Once he connected, he immediately turned the screen toward the fans. Pei Yuan looked at the little heads in the frame and raised an eyebrow expressionlessly.

“I can’t believe you guys did something so silly. And I told you not to buy my itinerary; most of them are scammers.”

Actually, a crowd of fans had already seen him off on the day he wrapped up, but his fanbase was so massive that scammers would sell fake info. People still fell for it.

The girls felt guilty and tried to explain. “The seller told me you were coming back for reshoots…” “Huh? My seller said you were adding scenes…” “So, I’m the only one whose seller said Brother was coming here for iron-pot stew?”

“…” Pei Yuan was speechless.

He rubbed his forehead in a state of total helplessness. “Go home. Go home, okay?”

The fans scratched their heads awkwardly. One girl said sadly, “What should I do? I missed the wrap-up last time and wanted to give you the gift I made…”

Pei Yuan: “Have you learned your lesson this time?” “Yes…” the girl muttered, though in her heart, she thought: I’ll probably do it again.