Chapter 49
“Roll up your pant leg.”
Ye Yuyuan had his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his strong, well-defined forearms. In his hand, he carried a tray with iodine and medical cotton. He turned slightly, his dark eyes falling on Fang Huai, an unreadable emotion flickering within them.
This was probably his first time here, yet he seemed very familiar with the place.
After all, this city wasn’t as developed as Nan City. The film crew’s accommodations weren’t bad, but Fang Huai’s lodging leaned more towards a homely, bed-and-breakfast style. A small potted plant sat by the window, and in the dim evening light, a gentle breeze stirred through the room.
“There’s no wound. I already checked.”
Fang Huai had been sitting idly just moments ago, rolling up his pant leg to inspect his knee. But the moment Ye Yuyuan turned around, he immediately pulled his pant leg back down. He rubbed his nose, sounding a little guilty.
Ye Yuyuan pressed his lips together slightly.
The two of them locked eyes across the half-meter distance between them.
The next second, the man took a long step forward, placed the tray on the nearby table, and without a word, bent down and rolled up Fang Huai’s pant leg.
Fang Huai was wearing cargo pants that day. As the fabric was lifted past his knee, his lower leg was exposed.
He had just turned eighteen and was still growing. With his past years of wandering, his frame was lean, caught between the lines of boyhood and young adulthood. His fair, smooth skin gleamed like fine porcelain in the evening light.
But his knee—scraped raw. The bleeding had stopped, but the wound still looked painful. Beyond that, a large, dark bruise spread across the area.
Ye Yuyuan’s breath hitched. His dark eyes deepened.
He was clearly displeased—so much so that even Fang Huai could sense it this time.
Ye Yuyuan’s fingers curled around the cotton swab, and after a moment of silence, he asked in a low voice “No wound?”
“It just looks bad,” Fang Huai met his gaze, his voice growing quieter. “…It doesn’t hurt that much.”
The room was silent. The evening deepened.
After a long pause, Ye Yuyuan pressed his lips together, then used tweezers to pick up a cotton ball soaked in iodine. He gently pressed it against the wound.
He had always been a man of few words. From the moment he arrived, he hadn’t said much.
And even now, he remained quiet, still seeming… upset.
Fang Huai couldn’t quite understand—why was he angry?
He tried making conversation with Ye Yuyuan.
“We haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
Ye Yuyuan responded with a quiet “Mm.” Seventeen days and four hours.
“Did you come to see me?”
Ye Yuyuan paused and looked at him.
There wasn’t much time.
Lately, work had been picking up again. He had a flight to Switzerland at eleven tonight for a meeting, and there were a lot of things to take care of. On his desk sat a countdown calendar, and tomorrow’s date was circled—that was supposed to be the day Fang Huai returned to Nan City.
But now that Fang Huai was signing the Frost contract, his return would likely be delayed.
He wanted to see him.
“…”
Ye Yuyuan looked at Fang Huai, his index finger twitching slightly.
He suddenly realized—normal people wouldn’t travel this far just to see a regular male friend. It was like a carefully maintained façade had suddenly been torn away, revealing a truth that wasn’t hard to guess.
Could Fang Huai…
The wound had been treated, covered with gauze, and his pant leg was rolled back down.
Ye Yuyuan lowered his gaze, suddenly finding it difficult to meet the boy’s expression.
“I just happened to have business here,” he said after a moment of silence. “Stopped by on the way.”
Fang Huai had asked casually, not thinking much of it.
After a moment, he asked again, “Are you unhappy?”
Ye Yuyuan had seemed displeased ever since he arrived, though Fang Huai had no idea why. Sure, he had lied about his injury, but it wasn’t that big of a deal, was it?
After a brief silence, Ye Yuyuan didn’t answer and instead asked, “What about you?”
“I’m really happy,” Fang Huai said sincerely, straightforward as ever. “I’ve been wanting to see you for days.”
Ye Yuyuan: “…”
That hit him square in the chest—completely unexpected.
For a moment, Ye Yuyuan felt like even his breathing had become difficult. It took him a long while before he finally responded in a low voice, “Mm.”
“Don’t be mad,” Fang Huai clumsily tried to appease him. “Do you want some cotton candy?”
“…”
“…Sure.” Ye Yuyuan hesitated for a moment before answering lightly.
But his mind was still stuck on those words—I’ve been wanting to see you.
A few moments later, the tips of Ye Yuyuan’s ears turned faintly red. He looked away, a bit uneasy.
He knew that someone as direct as Fang Huai meant nothing more by those words. His thoughts were so pure, without the slightest hidden meaning. He didn’t like anyone, which was precisely why he could openly say things like “I like you” or “I miss you” to anyone.
Like was just ordinary fondness. Missing was just missing a friend.
But Ye Yuyuan still couldn’t stop his heart from stirring.
Fang Huai really went out and bought some cotton candy. There was a small street stall just downstairs from the hotel. He usually didn’t eat sweets, but the cotton candy here was delicious—the sugar carried the faint fragrance of osmanthus, a signature of this riverside town.
Ye Yuyuan’s secretary, who had followed along, was in utter disbelief.
He watched, dumbfounded, as the ever-serious, never-indulgent President Ye quietly finished an entire cotton candy.
After a long moment of silence, Ye Yuyuan’s dark eyes softened in an almost unrecognizable way. Pressing his lips together, he said, “It’s really sweet.”
So sweet.
*
Spring and Autumn Chronicle was about to start filming. Xu Shu’s manager had been running around lately, trying to use the momentum of the production to land Xu Shu a few endorsements and magazine covers to boost his status. But after making some inquiries, he was shocked to discover that the cover of Young—not the upcoming issue, but the one after—had already been given to Fang Huai.
“Has Lin Shengyun gone crazy? And the people at Young too?” The manager scoffed. “Fang Huai? He doesn’t have the weight to carry a solo cover.”
“Forget it.” Xu Shu acted magnanimous. “He’ll only enjoy it for a moment. I heard he took the Frost role?”
“Seems like it. It hasn’t been officially announced yet, but just wait.” The manager, now thinking about it, felt much better. “He looks smart, but turns out he’s not that bright after all.”
He figured Fang Huai’s manager probably didn’t realize what a trap this role was, and Fang Huai himself was likely too eager for success. He must have jumped in just because of Lin Shengyun’s name and the Frost production team’s reputation. How it would end for him—well, that remained to be seen.
Who knew, maybe over there, they were still celebrating, thinking they had scored some incredible opportunity.
Xu Shu’s manager, reassured by this thought, completely relaxed. He advised Xu Shu, “Just focus on filming Spring and Autumn Chronicle. Don’t stir up trouble. If all goes well, transitioning your career and even winning awards won’t be a problem.”
“Why would I stir up trouble?” Xu Shu shrugged. “Fang Huai’s the one who can’t sit still. Just watch—he’s desperate to keep himself trending, might as well move his whole house onto the hot search rankings.”
“…”
*
Ye Yuyuan left after dinner—he still had work to do that night.
After he left, Fang Huai sat down with the Frost script and practiced his lines.
The next day, after bidding farewell to the team working on the Frost theme song and seeing them off, he headed to the set.
Lin Shengyun happened to be filming. After the audition scene yesterday, he had given Fang Huai some pointers on things to pay attention to. He had also told him that if he had time the next day, he should come by the set to observe.
Acting wasn’t easy, and Fang Huai had no foundation whatsoever. Blocking, lines, physical expression—he had to start from scratch. The workload was immense.
After Fang Huai’s performance the day before, Lin Shengyun had told him:
“Your emotional depth was better than Guan Li’s, but still lacking. Your gaze was off.”
Fang Huai was puzzled. “What do you mean, my gaze was off?”
“You were looking at him like a friend, a close friend.” Lin Shengyun replayed a recording he had taken. “See? You want to show him the best version of yourself. Why? Because you love him.”
Fang Huai’s performance had been truly moving.
Lin Shengyun found it a bit strange. He realized that Fang Huai didn’t actually understand what it meant to like someone, to love someone. Yet, in that final scene, he had managed to portray Lin Shuheng so convincingly. It didn’t make sense. How could someone convey such genuine emotion without having experienced it firsthand?
Fang Huai looked as if… as if he had seen it before. As if he hadn’t created that moment from nothing, but had simply replicated something he had witnessed years ago, bringing it back to life.
But acting wasn’t just about mechanically replicating emotions—sooner or later, he had to truly internalize and express them.
“Go home and think about it,” Lin Shengyun waved a hand. “Haven’t you ever liked a girl before?”
Even if Fang Huai couldn’t feel it personally, he at least needed to observe what ‘liking someone’ looked like.
So when he went back, he kept thinking about it—reading the script, researching Lin Shuheng’s character, and contemplating what ‘liking’ actually felt like.
Yesterday, Ye Yuyuan had come by. Fang Huai had wanted to ask him multiple times, but in the end, for some reason, he never did.
Maybe he felt it was a bit too forward. Last time he had asked about it over text, Ye Yuyuan had seemed completely uninterested in the topic.
Even now, as Fang Huai walked toward the film set, he was still preoccupied with the question.
*
It had been raining frequently these days. He had brought an umbrella, and sure enough, halfway there, a downpour started.
Suddenly, someone rushed under his umbrella. It was a young woman. She said, “Hey, handsome, sorry—forgot my umbrella. Mind if I borrow…?”
She trailed off, her gaze locking onto Fang Huai’s face, as if in deep thought.
She was cute and pretty, with chestnut-colored hair and delicate makeup.
Fang Huai nodded and asked, “Where are you headed? I’ll walk you there.”
“I’m Li Li,” she said with a sweet smile and, without hesitation, hooked her arm around his. “I’m going to the Frost set too—guess we’re headed the same way. You’re Fang Huai, right?”
Fang Huai glanced at her hand on his arm, momentarily stunned.
He didn’t like being so close to people, regardless of gender. But it wasn’t like he could just shake Li Li off, and she wasn’t letting go either. Plus, if someone took a picture, it might cause trouble for her.
After a moment of thought, he handed her the umbrella. “Take it. It’s too cramped for two people. You go ahead.”
Li Li: “…?” Damn, is he a total blockhead?
Fang Huai took a step back into the rain, completely firm in his decision.
Raindrops instantly dampened his slightly upturned hair. He was wearing a slightly loose white shirt, and his light amber eyes looked as clear as if they had been washed by the rain. Standing against the backdrop of white walls and gray tiles, he gave her a small, boyish smile.
Li Li had initially approached him with ulterior motives, but at that moment, her heart skipped a beat despite herself. She bit her lip in frustration before finally walking away, reluctant to admit defeat.
What Fang Huai didn’t expect, however, was that later that night, the hashtag #FangHuai’sRumoredGirlfriend—It’s Her?!# had climbed to the bottom of the trending list.
The accompanying photo showed Li Li holding onto Fang Huai’s arm while he turned slightly to speak to her. From that angle, it really did look like he was smiling at her, while her expression appeared familiar, tender—almost intimate.
Immediately, the internet exploded.
Fang Huai’s fanbase consisted not only of ‘mother fans’ but also a significant number of ‘girlfriend fans’ and ‘wife fans.’ More importantly, this was his very first dating rumor.
Comment Section:
[AAAAHHH NOOO I DON’T BELIEVE IT!!!]
[Why is this so sweet and flirty? I’m kinda shipping it… innocent first love vibes?? Lol.]
[Shut up, PR bot. Who is this girl? I do NOT approve of this marriage.]
[Li Li is totally leeching off my baby for clout. NMSL.]
[I don’t get it. It’s just sharing an umbrella, not making out in a hotel room. How does this qualify as a ‘rumored girlfriend’ situation?]
“……”
It was obvious that someone was manipulating public opinion behind the scenes—the trending topic was still climbing higher.
*
In Switzerland, a long meeting had just ended. The regional general agent was still inside, locked in a heated debate with business partners, when the man at the head of the table suddenly stood up. He picked up his phone, murmured a brief “Excuse me,” and walked out the door.
Everyone was momentarily stunned, glancing at each other nervously, worried that they had made a mistake.
Due to the time difference, it was midday here, while over there, it should be close to bedtime.
The man pressed his lips together.
He knew the rumor couldn’t be true—after all, he had never even seen that girl before. But…
His chest felt strangely tight.
Lost in thought, he absentmindedly tapped the dial button. He realized it a second too late and was about to hang up when the call was already answered.
“Hello? Ye Yuyuan.”
Across tens of thousands of kilometers, the boy’s clean voice came through, carrying the dampness of late summer rain. Fang Huai hesitated for a moment, then said, “I thought you were busy.”
Ye Yuyuan responded with a quiet “Mm,” his emotions slowly settling. Then he asked,
“It’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“Oh,” Fang Huai rubbed his nose. “I had something to deal with. I met a girl today—she didn’t have an umbrella, so I lent her mine. And then… now, a bunch of people online are saying I like her.”
He had been discussing how to handle the situation with Shi Feiran when the call came in.
“Do you?”
Ye Yuyuan’s finger, resting on the armrest, curled slightly.
“No,” Fang Huai answered quickly. “I don’t even know her.”
Another quiet “Mm” from Ye Yuyuan.
After a pause, in a low voice, he said, “Don’t like her.”
“Then who should I like?”
Fang Huai instinctively followed the conversation’s flow, unaware of what he had just asked.
Ye Yuyuan’s heartbeat stuttered. His curled finger tightened. Lowering his gaze, he spoke in a voice that was slightly hoarse—”Like—”
Like me.
