Ch.116 – The Star Around The Sun

He Zheng commended Xia Xingcheng’s acting, saying that from ‘Gradual Distance’ until now, he had improved in leaps and bounds. 

Xia Xingcheng used to think that he was a natural-born actor. Back then, he was still acting in idol dramas, and his acting skills would garner praise even as he filmed without a care. It wasn’t until after he started making movies with genuinely competent people did he realize that he never had any innate acting talent at all. His acting was clumsy and over the top, and it only seemed great because it was set off against those with lousier acting. All his acting skills were brought out much later, after being steadily honed step by step.

From the very first time he met Yang Youming, it was Yang Youming who showed him how to get into character, and it was also Yang Youming who showed him how to withdraw from it.

Later on, without Yang Youming around, he continued to work out each performance persistently, not letting his acting be merely superficial, but in-depth and immersive. 

In the future, he may no longer experience a time when he completely lives out his character, but he could still devote his heart and soul to his every role, constantly improving, constantly maturing. 

He was very lucky to have encountered the right opportunity—the right person. 

That night, Xia Xingcheng went down in his pajamas and knocked on Yang Youming’s door. 

When the door opened from the inside, Xia Xingcheng saw Yang Youming wearing the same set of long-sleeved pajamas, his sleeve slightly rolled up, a hand on the door lock. 

Seeing that it was him, Yang Youming stepped aside to let him in, then closed the door again.

Xia Xingcheng waited for the door to close before fitting his body along Yang Youming’s and pushing him against the wall. 

Yang Youming smiled faintly as he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Xia Xingcheng didn’t say a word. He leaned in and inhaled the fragrance of the shower gel on Yang Youming’s body. He ought to have just taken a bath, as the tips of his hair were somewhat damp.

Apart from losing weight and being tanned, Yang Youming’s hair had also been trimmed short. It was probably due to his character’s temperament, but he seemed a tad more masculine than he was before.

Xia Xingcheng was inexplicably aroused. He grabbed Yang Youming’s hand and pulled him further into the room, then pushed him onto the bed. 

Yang Youming tilted backwards and propped himself up on his elbows. Amused, he said, “Enthusiastic, aren’t you?”

Xia Xingcheng stayed mute, directly spreading his legs and straddling Yang Youming’s lap. He held down Yang Youming’s hands on either side of him and bowed his head to examine him minutely. 

As he looked closely, he noticed that Yang Youming’s weight loss wasn’t at all of the emaciated kind, but rather the leanness of men who often do manual labour. The tight muscles under the skin of his neck and shoulders showed through—entirely in line with the role of Sun Yao.

Sun Yao was an electrician who worked in a large property management company. Although he was already over forty, his body was still strong and agile from doing physical labour for years on end. He could even strangle a young man one-handed. 

Xia Xingcheng bent down, his gaze roving over Yang Youming’s body. The slack neckline of his pajamas fell open, exposing a small expanse of his fair chest. 

Yang Youming didn’t move a muscle as he stared back. 

Xia Xingcheng gazed at him intently for a while, then released his hold on Yang Youming’s wrists and sat up. He took out a small jar from the pocket of his pajama pants, then unscrewed the lid with his fingers. 

When Yang Youming sniffed the faint fragrance, he asked, “What’s that?”

Xia Xingcheng didn’t answer. He set the lid aside and scooped out a small chunk of facial cream-like substance with his fingers. He lowered his head, and smeared it on Yang Youming’s face with meticulous care.

Yang Youming wrinkled his eyebrows and asked, “What exactly is this?”

Xia Xingcheng had a look of concentration across his face, his fingers traced over the tip of Yang Youming’s brow to the outer corner of his eye, smearing it on delicately. He replied, “Facial mask.”

Yang Youming merely looked at him quietly. 

Xia Xingcheng scooped out some more cream from the jar and carefully coated every corner of Yang Youming’s face, saying, “It’s a whitening mask, Hua Hua said it’s pretty effective.”

Yang Youming asked, “Is it Hua Hua’s?”

Xia Xingcheng shook his head. “It’s mine. Hua Hua said she couldn’t afford it.” After that, he brought the jar to his nose and sniffed at it. “Smells nice.”

“Xingcheng,” Yang Youming’s eyes contained a hint of a smile as he gazed at him. “I tanned for the role.”

Xia Xingcheng said, “I know! This isn’t a magic potion, it shouldn’t work that quickly anyway. When you finish shooting, you’ll lighten up again.”

The corner of Yang Youming’s mouth rose, but he didn’t speak.

Xia Xingcheng applied the translucent white facial mask all over Yang Youming’s face, yet he was still unsatisfied and wanted to continue smearing some on his neck.

Yang Youming raised an obstructing hand. “That’s enough.”

Xia Xingcheng then stopped, and screwed the lid back on. He leaned over and grabbed a tissue on the bedside cabinet to wipe his hands, then said, “You have to leave it on your face for fifteen minutes.”

Yang Youming nodded.

Xia Xingcheng looked down at him and laced his fingers in his hair, gently caressing his warm scalp. After a while, he could no longer restrain himself and lowered his head to kiss Yang Youming’s lips.

They had separated for a month.  Their passion was like gushing lava, an engulfing heat that swept away everything in its path. At first, Xia Xingcheng was worried that he would rub against the facial mask, but then he threw caution to the wind and sensed something sticky and bitter on his lips. It was too late to spit it out and too late to swallow—most of it was sent to Yang Youming’s mouth.

Yang Youming’s fingers kneaded his raised bottom, clutched at the waistband of his pajama pants, and together with the fabric underneath, he yanked it all down and flipped them over, pressing Xia Xingcheng underneath him.

Xia Xingcheng’s collar had long since been spread open. Yang Youming took care not to leave a mark on Xia Xingcheng’s neck, his slender and powerful hands pinching those parts that were usually concealed under his clothes and would go unseen by others instead. Xia Xingcheng was rubbed so thoroughly that he felt truly possessed.

Yang Youming lifted the blanket over their heads, enshrouding them both. The blanket blocked off the brightness of the lights entirely, creating a sealed off space all to themselves. 

Their breaths intertwined, increasingly damp by the minute.

Xia Xingcheng opened up his body, trying his utmost to meet the other man.

The rustling noises in the quiet room gradually transformed into the sound of the bed rocking, accompanied by violent and strangled gasps.

It took a long, long time before these motions stopped. Yang Youming was bent over Xia Xingcheng’s body, his tight grasp leaving marks on Xia Xingcheng’s arms. And yet he still couldn’t bear to let go, dropping kisses after kisses on Xia Xingcheng’s sweaty forehead. 

Xia Xingcheng’s legs had long been lowered, gone sore and weak. He reached out to touch Yang Youming’s face, and said, “My facial mask.”

Half the facial mask had been rubbed onto Xia Xingcheng’s face. The other half was on the blanket.

Yang Youming’s voice was deep and tinged with indolence. “I’ll buy it for you.”

Xia Xingcheng laughed. “Then you have to use it everyday. You have to lighten up again after shooting.”

Yang Youming rubbed Xia Xingcheng’s face with the tip of his nose. “Whatever you say.”

Xia Xingcheng was a man too. He suspected that Yang Youming would definitely agree to whatever request he makes at this time.

In the south, it was neither cold nor hot during spring; a thin blanket was enough for the two of them. They were too lazy to get up after their affair. Xia Xingcheng hugged Yang Youming’s waist as he told him about his experiences at the procuratorate some time ago.

Yang Youming’s slightly rough palm stroked a supple shoulder, and with what seemed to be a feigned indifference, he said, “You look good in a uniform.”

Xia Xingcheng looked at him smilingly. “How good?”

Yang Youming, “So good that it makes a man want to—”

Before he could finish his sentence, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. The knocking didn’t sound urgent, and it stopped after a few knocks.

Yang Youming glanced towards the door.

Xia Xingcheng lifted the blanket, intending to put his clothes on first, but Yang Youming held his hand down and said, “No need to get up, I’ll go check.”

With that, he reached for the clothes that had been thrown to the end of the bed and put them on unhurriedly. After that, he slipped on his slippers and made his way out.

Xia Xingcheng could only listen to the sound of the door opening and the conversation that followed. He was curious, and wanted to get up and take a look, but he was scared that someone would witness the fact that he was in Yang Youming’s room.

A moment later, Yang Youming closed the door and returned with a small box in his hands. He set it down on the TV cabinet in passing. 

“Who was it?” Xia Xingcheng asked. 

Yang Youming sat down on the edge of the bed. “Ling Jiayue. She brought me tea leaves on behalf of her grandpa.”

Xia Xingcheng didn’t speak and only looked at him. 

Yang Youming raised a hand and pressed on Xia Xingcheng’s nape. “What’s wrong?”

Xia Xingcheng was mute for a while before saying, “It’s nothing.” Afterwards, he found his facial mask jar within the disheveled bed sheets and straddled Yang Youming’s body, insisting on reapplying the mask. 

Prosecutor Han Bohan, who looked good in his prosecutor uniform, had changed into casual attire; long jeans, a short trench coat, still as handsome and sharp as ever. He went to the community hospital to visit Sun Yao’s daughter, Sun Xunyan. 

Pushing open the door of the single ward with one hand, he spotted a lone figure lying down on the hospital bed in the centre of the room. It was the afternoon, and at this time, the afternoon sunshine streamed through the room’s west facing window, spilling over the hospital bed and dying the white blanket in orange yellow. 

On the bed lay a seventeen year old girl. Although her eyes were shut, you could tell that she had a lovely, pretty face. Her eyelashes were long, casting a shadow over her pale lower eyelids. 

Han Bohan slowly entered the room and walked up to the end of bed. He bent down to look at the patient nameplate. On the name column was written: Sun Xunyan. The age column said: 17 years old, while the diagnosis column was blank.

The girl’s breathing was slow and shallow, but the rise and fall of the curve of her chest underneath the blanket was visible to the naked eye. She appeared as if she was asleep, but her slumber had gone on for too long—nearing two years, approximately.

Han Bohan shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at Sun Xunyan’s face. For a moment, he thought, were this his own daughter, he would’ve killed that bastard, just like Sun Yao. But this notion was too dangerous—especially inappropriate to appear in Han Bohan’s mind now. As a result, he stopped that train of thought before he continued descending upon it. 

Right then, the door of the ward was opened from the outside. Han Bohan turned to look, and saw that the person who entered was a doctor. 

The short female doctor asked him, “Are you a relative of hers?”

Han Bohan said, “I’m not.”

“Oh.” The doctor seemed disappointed. She walked over to the bed and stared for a while, then said, “I wonder if it’s possible for her dad to get released.”

Han Bohan asked, “Isn’t there a carer looking after her? There should be donations from relief agencies.” 

The doctor said, “There’s no reason for a carer to look after her so attentively. You can see that she’s in a pretty good condition, and it’s all because her father’s always done so well in taking care of her. If her father can’t be released in the future—I feel sorry for this poor girl.”

Han Bohan’s gaze fell on Sun Xunyan’s face once more. He looked at her in silence for a long time.

As soon as the scene ended, the girl lying on the bed immediately sat up and talked to Xia Xingcheng with a grin. Xia Xingcheng smiled back as the two of them shared a few words, then turned to look at Yang Youming, who was waiting for the next scene to be shot.

Yang Youming had a script in his hands. Standing in front of him, with the same script in her hands, was Ling Jiayue. The two of them were pairing up for a scene. 

Xia Xingcheng looked at them for a while before making his way to He Zheng’s side to watch the playback on the monitor with him. 

He Zheng held a rolled up paper tube. He pointed to the monitor for Xia Xingcheng and said, “Watch this close-up.” He originally wanted to hear Xia Xingcheng’s opinion, yet when he received no response, he turned to look at him and found that Xingcheng’s attention wasn’t on the monitor at all—his head was turned to Yang Youming. As a result, He Zheng raised the paper tube in his hand and swatted Xia Xingcheng’s head. 

“Ow!” Xia Xingcheng shouted from the hit. It didn’t hurt, but it startled him. 

He Zheng said, “Focus for me!”

Xia Xingcheng touched the place he was hit. ”I did focus, when I was shooting.”

He Zheng lowered his voice, “You think I don’t know where you spend the night!?”

Xia Xingcheng only said, “We won’t affect filming.”

He Zheng fished out a cigarette case from his jacket pocket, took out a cigarette, and held it with his mouth. He didn’t rush to light it. He also looked at Yang Youming’s direction for a moment before saying, “Don’t worry, Yang Youming won’t cheat on you.”

Xia Xingcheng was somewhat surprised that He Zheng would mention this. He softly said, “I’m not worried though.”

He Zheng sat on a stool and stretched out a hand to pull up a pant leg. He seemed somewhat rueful. He sighed, then said, “Yang Youming doesn’t fall in love easily. Deciding to be with someone comes even less easy to him. You have nothing to worry about in this life.” 

Xia Xingcheng sat down on the stool next to him, and asked, “You’re not against us?”

Dazed, He Zheng said, “What I’m against was never you two in the first place.” He cut himself off there. “Forget it, let’s not talk about this.”

Xia Xingcheng felt that He Zheng was afraid that he’d recall his own matters, but since He Zheng wasn’t willing to speak, he never asked. 

“Director He, why is Ling Jiayue here?” This question had been haunting Xia Xingcheng’s mind this whole time, and this time, he couldn’t help but ask, “Is it because of her grandfather?”

He Zheng sneered. He took out a lighter and lit his cigarette, staring at Xia Xingcheng as he said, “Why did you think I sought you out to play Fang Jianyuan back then?” After that, he continued, “Because this young miss has very good acting skills.” 

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t/n – thank you for all the comments! ( ˘ ³˘)♥

⟵ Chapter 115 | TOC | Chapter 117 ⟶