Chapter 79
5 PM, South Suburban Orphanage.
In winter, the sky darkened early, and by five or six o’clock, the clouds were already dyed a deep red.
Fang Huai pedaled his bicycle along the narrow alleyways. His legs were long, and he looked effortlessly cool riding, his coat hem fluttering in the wind. He maneuvered so swiftly through the twists and turns that he was actually faster than the photographer following him by car.
He stopped outside the orphanage, one hand still resting on the handlebars, balancing on one foot.
The orphanage’s facilities hadn’t been renovated yet, still retaining their 1990s look. Next to it, an illegally constructed classroom stood right by the alley. A thin layer of mist coated the glass windows, and the cheerful voices of children echoed from within.
Ye Yuyuan stood tall and straight, his broad shoulders and long legs making him look like a handsome volunteer teacher. He wore a slightly worn apron and was currently bent over, serving dinner to the children.
From Fang Huai’s angle, the evening light cast a soft glow behind him, giving him a warmth that was both ordinary and breathtakingly handsome.
Sensing something, Ye Yuyuan looked up. Their gazes met and lingered.
After a moment, Ye Yuyuan exchanged a few words with another teacher beside him, set down the serving spoon, and walked over to the window, pushing it open.
“What time do you get off work?” Fang Huai rang his bicycle bell and, following the kids’ lead, called out, “Mr. Ye.”
Ye Yuyuan’s obsidian-black eyes rested on him for a while. Then, raising an eyebrow slightly, he unexpectedly played along.
“Ten more minutes. Do you need something, Student Fang?”
“Mr. Ye, your boyfriend is waiting at the door to pick you up from work.” Fang Huai’s light-colored eyes curved with amusement as he looked at him, speaking with utmost seriousness. “He just asked me to check—do you miss him today?”
Fang Huai was a natural at romance, effortlessly smooth.
Ye Yuyuan remained silent for a moment, his voice dropping lower. He seemed embarrassed as he softly called the young man’s name.
“Huaihuai.”
He was starting to lose his composure—this Fang Huai was just too…
One stood outside, the other inside. Fang Huai had no intention of going in. Some of the children in the orphanage had special circumstances, and it wouldn’t be appropriate for a stranger to enter unannounced.
Behind Ye Yuyuan was a noisy, lively scene—rising steam, the warmth of daily life. Behind Fang Huai was a vast, empty street, quiet and desolate.
Sensing Ye Yuyuan’s embarrassment, Fang Huai chose not to tease him any further. Instead, he said, “Go back inside. I’ll wait here for you, no rush.”
Ye Yuyuan paused, nodded slightly, and indeed turned around, taking a couple of steps back.
Fang Huai exhaled softly, feeling an inexplicable sense of regret. Just as he was about to get off his bike to park it, Ye Yuyuan suddenly turned back around and walked straight toward him.
The wind seemed to still. Fang Huai’s eyelashes trembled.
Under the shadow cast by the eaves, Ye Yuyuan braced one hand against the window frame while the other wrapped around Fang Huai’s waist. He leaned down and kissed him.
A moment later, his voice, slightly hoarse, murmured near Fang Huai’s ear, “Huaihuai.”
“Mr. Ye…He misses you every single day.”
“…”
Half a minute later, Ye Yuyuan’s ears were burning red. He coughed lightly, then stiffly turned back to continue serving dinner.
Fang Huai stood frozen for a moment, then hesitantly touched his forehead and the warmth on his flushed cheeks.
Dating… was seriously dangerous.
*
Twenty minutes later, an unexpected downpour arrived.
Winter rains like this were rare, but when they came, they were fierce. The rain was even worse than snow, with ice-cold drops pelting the ground like daggers.
Their car was blocked at the entrance of the narrow alley, unable to drive in. Fang Huai and Ye Yuyuan had no choice but to walk out on their own.
Before they could leave the orphanage, the rain had already started pouring. Within moments, half their clothes were soaked, forcing them to take shelter under the eaves of a nearby building.
Ye Yuyuan first helped Fang Huai adjust his half-wet clothes, ensuring he was in a wind-sheltered spot before stepping away to find a better signal and call his secretary.
“We’re in the alley. Mm, bring two umbrellas…”
Fang Huai watched him for a long time, suddenly struck by a mischievous thought. He walked over to Ye Yuyuan’s side.
The sky had darkened completely in the rain.
Ye Yuyuan: “?”
Lowering his gaze, he silently asked what was wrong.
Fang Huai tilted his head up and kissed him. “Now it’s fair.”
Ye Yuyuan: “…”
On the other end of the call, Wang Qiang was still speaking, “Hello? Mr. Ye, the exact location—”
Ye Yuyuan hung up. He let out a slow breath and said in a low voice, “Huaihuai, come here.”
Fang Huai had been looking down, squeezing water from his clothes. At the words, he lifted his head blankly. “?”
Ye Yuyuan stepped forward, bent down, and pulled the boy completely into his arms, as if he wanted to absorb him into his embrace and kiss him all over again.
Fang Huai: “…”
His heart pounded wildly, caught between anticipation and panic.
Seriously? No way, right??
Luckily, before anything could actually happen—
They both heard the sound of children chatting nearby and the splash of little rain boots stepping through puddles.
Fang Huai was extremely embarrassed. His cheeks flushed as he quickly stood up. Ye Yuyuan reluctantly let go of him, pressing his lips together in silence for a moment.
They stood awkwardly under the eaves, watching as a group of children ran through the puddles, their rain boots splashing water as they went. The orphanage children were all dressed in matching lemon-yellow padded jackets and rain boots, looking like a group of adorable little ducklings. One child in the middle held a large umbrella.
At first, Fang Huai thought they were just playing around, but as they passed in front of him, he realized that wasn’t the case.
A little boy, dressed in a dull gray jacket, lagged behind, looking out of place. Most of his body was exposed to the rain. Some of the other children were pushing him, while others loudly mocked him:
“Zhao Yulong’s head, round like a ball, one kick sends it to the department store.
At the department store, there’s a fan, one blow sends it to the train station.”
It wasn’t hard to guess—the boy in the gray jacket must be Zhao Yulong.
He stumbled from the push, nearly falling into the muddy rainwater.
“Wait for me,” the little boy pleaded, his face scrunched up as if he were about to cry, his eyes red from frustration. “What did I do wrong? Tell me!”
No one answered him. In the end, he simply lowered his head, quickening his steps to catch up and squeeze under the umbrella. The others only laughed at him louder.
“…”
Fang Huai snapped back to reality.
His smile faded, bit by bit, until it disappeared completely.
When he saw the boy in the gray jacket nearly get shoved to the ground, his fists clenched involuntarily. For a few seconds, he couldn’t suppress the anger rising within him.
To most people, children are innocent, cute, and naïve. But in reality?
Bullying starts as early as kindergarten. Sometimes, children’s cruelty is even more terrifying than adults’ because they lack moral awareness or a sense of right and wrong. They don’t even realize how cruel their actions truly are.
It was only when the children disappeared under the eaves that Fang Huai finally withdrew his gaze, feeling a bit dejected.
…How should he put it?
Of course, he could have stepped out just now, scolded the children, taught them that what they were doing was wrong, and then safely escorted Zhao Yulong back inside. That way, justice would have been served, and he would have helped someone.
“But that wouldn’t have changed anything,” Fang Huai muttered. “As soon as I left, they would only blame Zhao Yulong for embarrassing them and bully him even worse.”
It was moments like these that made him feel powerless.
Fang Huai once knew a boy who was bullied in their extended family in the same way.
He had helped that boy multiple times, only to later realize that each time he intervened, the boy’s injuries worsened. He was covered in bruises, because the other kids took their anger out on him even more.
Ye Yuyuan remained silent for a moment before gently taking Fang Huai’s hand in his.
They reported the incident to the orphanage director and teachers. Before leaving, Fang Huai also left Zhao Yulong a small notebook, his phone number, and some money.
Even after returning home, Fang Huai remained distracted, looking a little down.
At dinner in the signal house, he was uncharacteristically quiet. After finishing his meal, he shut himself in the kitchen to wash the dishes alone, then headed upstairs without another word.
Yin Wanyue: “What’s wrong with Zai Zai?”
“……”
No one answered her, and everyone found it a bit strange.
Fang Huai’s personality was generally very optimistic, which was surprising—considering he had faced so much unfair treatment and even slander from the very beginning. Most people would have developed some resentment, but he hadn’t.
At his core, he genuinely loved life and this world. He rarely showed negative emotions.
At least in all the time Yin Wanyue had spent with him, she had never heard Fang Huai say a bad word about anyone or complain. If he disapproved of something, he would always point it out directly while ensuring the other person’s dignity remained intact.
It sounded simple, but in reality, many people couldn’t do it. It was a rare and admirable quality.
Ye Yuyuan was silent for a moment before bidding farewell to the others and heading upstairs as well.
The atmosphere in the room felt a bit strange. Finally, Yin Wanyue broke the silence: “Best Actor Feng, congratulations! Wishing Frost a record-breaking box office run.”
Feng Lang had been absentmindedly glancing upstairs. Only then did he withdraw his gaze and smile. “Thank you.”
The response to Frost’s trailer had been unexpected.
Lin Shengyun and his team had mentally prepared themselves in advance—this kind of artistic film was mainly aimed at winning awards, and they didn’t expect much commercial success.
But surprisingly, once the trailer was released, data analysis showed that the discussion surrounding it was on par with, if not exceeding, several big-budget commercial films released at the same time.
Perhaps audience preferences were shifting with the times. Gone were the days when flashy effects, aggressive marketing, and star power alone could guarantee a film’s success, no matter how bad it was. Social awareness and cultural perspectives were evolving, and truly high-quality films—regardless of their genre—could still find an audience.
The Frost trailer was brief, but from its soundtrack to its cinematography, everything was exceptional. Even within just a few frames, the film’s artistic intensity was evident—Feng Lang’s acting skills had always been solid, but what surprised people the most was Fang Huai’s outstanding performance.
One five-second scene of Lin Shuheng kneeling in an art studio to kiss a rose was turned into a viral gif, captivating countless viewers online.
Because of this shot, someone nicknamed Fang Huai “Little Prince”—a reference to The Little Prince, who cared for a single rose on his planet. In the scene, Fang Huai wore a linen white shirt, his slightly curled hair framing his fair and handsome face, making him look strikingly like the Little Prince.
[So when is Frost premiering??? Why release a trailer just to tease us? 555555]
[This is the first time I’ve been so excited for an art film.]
[Come see my Little Prince here in Heart Signal!]
[Xu Shu must be regretting it so badly right now. Who was it that called Frost trash he didn’t want?]
Indeed, Xu Shu was regretting it so much that he could hardly bear it.
The moment he finished watching the trailer, he knew—Frost was going to be a massive hit. It had the potential to sweep both the box office and major awards. After ten years in the industry, his commercial instincts were sharp enough to recognize that.
“I can’t accept this,” Xu Shu put down his phone, his expression slightly twisted. “…Why?”
A ridiculous thought crossed his mind—why? Those things should have been his.
There was no way Fang Huai could have acted like that on his own. His performance must have been guided, scene by scene, by Lin Shengyun or even Feng Lang. They must have walked him through every detail, maybe even acted it out as an example for him. That kind of stunning performance in the trailer? It couldn’t have been his own ability. If Fang Huai were truly left to act on his own, he would surely mess up.
But the audience didn’t know that. They only saw what was presented to them—and in the blink of an eye, Fang Huai was being praised on Weibo as if he were some kind of celestial miracle.
Xu Shu was nearly driven mad with frustration.
*
Meanwhile, in Bei City, a plane slowly landed.
A man in his early thirties stepped off the aircraft. He was slightly balding, had a beer belly, and a kind-looking face—the kind of middle-aged uncle one might casually run into while grocery shopping.
But anyone with even a bit of knowledge about contemporary cinema would never see him that way.
His name was Zhang Tuanyuan, a Spanish-born Chinese filmmaker. The Best Picture Oscar from two years ago, as well as the Best Director award from the year before that, both belonged to films he had directed. Despite his relatively young age, he had already won numerous accolades. His sheer talent placed him even higher in the industry than Lin Shengyun.
This time, he had returned to China to cast for his new film, The Song of the Nameless.
He already had someone in mind… but there were still a few things he needed to confirm first.
*
When Ye Yuyuan returned to his room, he saw his boy sitting under the soft glow of a night lamp, cradling a ukulele and quietly singing.
Fang Huai was playing an Irish folk song—something about a child missing their parents who had gone far away.
When Fang Huai was in a bad mood, he never took it out on others or dumped his emotions onto them. Instead, he would bottle it up and process it alone—singing a few songs to digest his feelings.
Ye Yuyuan stood at the doorway, listening in silence.
He wasn’t much of a talker, and he understood that Fang Huai didn’t need words of comfort—just quiet companionship.
*
An hour later.
Fang Huai came out of the shower, hugged his pillow, walked to Ye Yuyuan’s bed, and softly asked, “Baby, can I sleep with you?”
Ye Yuyuan: “……”
He was silent for a moment before pulling the boy into his bed. His voice was tight, his breath a little strained as he said, “Yes. But don’t call me—”
“Baby?” Fang Huai repeated innocently, then kissed his chin without a second thought. “You don’t like it? Why not?”
He had read online last night that 80% of people said they would be very happy if their boyfriend called them “baby” or “darling.”
“Huai Huai,” Ye Yuyuan seemed a bit tense—his abs were completely taut. He wrapped his arms around Fang Huai from behind, holding him carefully, his voice low. “I should be the one calling you baby.”
“But I want to call you that,” Fang Huai insisted with an inexplicable stubbornness, his tone serious. “Because you’re my most precious treasure.”
He finished speaking and looked at him with a hint of anticipation.
Ye Yuyuan: “……”
Where did he even learn this… cheesy love talk?
Ye Yuyuan remained silent for a while, then ultimately chose to kiss him—to put an end to the conversation before it went any further.
*
Ten minutes later.
“Baby…” Fang Huai hesitated but eventually changed the way he addressed him. In a muffled voice, he asked, “Ye Yuyuan, were you ever bullied as a kid?”
What he had witnessed earlier that evening had left a deep impact on him, making him think a lot.
He wasn’t some noble saint trying to save everyone—that was unrealistic. But when he saw that little boy in the gray coat, for a brief moment, he saw his younger self.
Then another thought struck him—what if Ye Yuyuan had also been bullied as a child for not fitting in?
The person he cherished the most, someone he held in the highest regard, being pushed around and laughed at, nearly falling into the mud on a cold, rainy day… He couldn’t accept that.
Ye Yuyuan didn’t respond immediately.
After a long pause, he finally said in a low voice, “Huai Huai, I won’t lie to you… I was.”
Fang Huai froze for a moment.
“But looking back now,” Ye Yuyuan continued after a short pause, “I… don’t feel sad about it anymore.”
Back then, he couldn’t understand why everything had to be so difficult and painful.
But later, he realized—maybe all of it happened so that he could meet Fang Huai.
And because of that, he no longer felt sorrow. In fact, he even felt a sense of gratitude, mixed with an irrational fear of losing what he had now. Compared to what he had gained, what he had endured before seemed so insignificant—just passing hardships that no longer held weight.
Fang Huai didn’t say anything. A moment later, he turned over and hugged him.
“But I feel sad,” his voice was slightly nasal, thick with emotion. “It hurts my heart.”
Moonlight poured in through the window. The room was warm from the heater, a faint mist forming on the floor-to-ceiling glass.
Ye Yuyuan couldn’t find any words to respond. He only felt the urge to kiss him again.
But at that moment, he suddenly noticed a cool sensation against his knuckle. Startled, he looked down at his hand—sometime during their conversation, a ring had been slipped onto his finger.
It had a simple, vintage design, yet it wasn’t the least bit gaudy. Made of jade, the inside of the band had a small engraving—the character “Fang.”
Ye Yuyuan’s voice tightened. “…Hm?”
Fang Huai was nervous too, watching him closely. “This is—”
A Fang family heirloom ring.
Traditionally passed down to… the daughter-in-law.
