Chapter 46: Going Home
Chen Bai’s hat had been snatched. When he turned around, he couldn’t see who had taken it, nor could he spot his hat. All he met were a few pairs of bright, curious eyes still trying to peer into the scene.
Everyone looked like a good person, but no one had seen the hat or knew who had taken it.
Chen Bai “……”
The excitement was paused, and the hat was nowhere to be found. Deciding to make a quick exit, he started to retreat from the scene.
Finally reaching the outer edges of the crowd, someone curiously asked him, “Hey man, what’s going on in there?”
Having just escaped, Chen Bai, with his messy hair, turned briefly and quickly responded, “Doesn’t look good.”
His reply was swift, as was his glance back.
The sea breeze blew, gently lifting his soft hair to one side. His light gray eyes, reflecting the streetlights, were clear and pure.
Those who saw him paused in surprise, momentarily dazed and failing to react even as the crowd nudged them forward.
Chen Bai made his escape, sending a message to his good neighbor on the way, letting him know he was heading back to the hotel first.
His good neighbor replied, saying he’d return to the hotel later.
After a winding evening stroll, when Chen Bai returned to the hotel, the curious Chen Bai and the high schooler cramming homework were sitting side by side, both with blank expressions.
The high schooler, holding a pen, mechanically flipped to the next page of homework and turned to ask, “Wasn’t Brother Bai waiting for my brother to come back together?”
Brother Bai, eyes closed, replied, “Well, some things happened.”
The high schooler didn’t quite understand what “some things” meant and continued working on his homework.
Their good neighbor returned later.
“Click—”
A soft sound as the door opened, and when the good neighbor walked into the living room, he saw the two sitting on the couch.
As soon as Chen Bai saw him, wide, dramatic tears rolled down his face.
Xu Sunian “……”
His good neighbor paused mid-mask-removal and asked, “What happened?”
Seeing those dramatic tears, his voice was quieter than usual.
Chen Bai pointed at his own head and said, “Someone snatched my hat.”
He kept his explanation short, carefully omitting the fact that he had been stirring up excitement.
It was a hat he’d worn for half a year. He wasn’t particularly sentimental, but it had cost him 29.9 yuan—enough to buy several notebooks.
—And then suddenly, there was something heavy on his head.
He looked up and saw the black brim of a hat above him.
Taking the hat off his own head and bending down to put it on Chen Bai, Xu Sinian gave him a pat and said, “You wear this for now.”
The wide, dramatic tears on Chen Bai’s face instantly stopped.
After a moment of processing, he raised the brim slightly and asked, “What about you?”
His good neighbor said he had another one.
The high schooler turned his head to look at them, his tired eyes showing a hint of confusion.
Something felt off, but he couldn’t put it into words, so he eventually just asked, “Why did you come back so late, brother?”
His brother explained that he had been recognized while making a phone call, which delayed him a bit.
Wearing his new hat, Chen Bai glanced sideways at him and said, “Oh, really.”
So the high schooler looked back at him and asked, “Brother Bai, are you okay?”
Brother Bai waved his hand dismissively, “I’m not that easily recognized.”
He was fully confident in his own anonymity.
Seeing no reason to worry, Xu Lang lowered his head and continued working on his homework.
That night, the high schooler stayed up until the early hours finishing his assignments. His two good brothers sat by his side, playing a game of Ludo until dawn.
It was the first time he learned that his brother could play such a simple game, and that brother Bai had terrible luck.
Xu Lang worked until his eyes were blurry. By the time he reached the point where even lifting a glass of water had him unconsciously thinking about physics and force, he finally went to bed. Chen Bai, after repeatedly losing and having his airplane pieces constantly stomped on, eventually found peace and fell into a tranquil sleep.
While they slept soundly, the online trending topics were still rapidly changing.
Earlier, the top spots were dominated by BCL-related content, with a string of entries all about the teams. But starting in the afternoon, a new entry suddenly shot up the list and reached the top: [Xu Sinian spotted in Z City].
Xu Sinian’s schedule was notoriously secretive, making him hard to track down—no one ever knew where he was or what he was doing when he wasn’t working. He was known for having few endorsements, rarely doing commercial events, and only filming one movie a year. It was as if he was already in semi-retirement. Since wrapping up his latest film, fans hadn’t heard from him in a long time.
No one expected that the next time they heard from him, he’d be in Z City, and some people even had the chance to bump into him.
Along with the news, photos from the scene started circulating online. The pictures were filled with crowds of people, but even in the sea of heads, Xu Sinian stood out. His hat brim was pulled low, and his mask had been temporarily removed, his tall figure towering over the crowd. Even from just his silhouette, it was clear he was handsome.
[OMG, it’s Xu Sinian! How is this even possible!’]
[Z City folks are so lucky! Why wasn’t I there for this??]
[Wait, how did you know I got his autograph? Since you asked, yes, I was one of the lucky few who got one—no tricks, I just rushed fast enough!]
[You have no idea how packed it was! Someone even took a bite out of my pineapple! And you don’t know how insanely good-looking he is in person! The crowd was just screaming the whole time!]
[I got there late and only saw his back, but even from behind, he’s so tall! (crying)]
At first, netizens were simply reveling in joy or regret, until an unknown guy left a comment:
[Wait, wasn’t this the guy sitting in front of me in Stand Two at the BCL finals?]
Same hat, same mask, same clothes, same towering height. If there wasn’t a second Xu Sinian in the world, then it had to be him.
That single comment revealed a lot. For the first time, the commenter’s Weibo blew up, with people replying left and right. The sudden attention left him feeling a bit flustered, so he started responding to everyone, sharing everything he knew.
[Yeah, he’s really tall, and he was blocking my view of the game. I even asked him to crouch down a bit, and he actually did.]
[He was there with a friend. I even asked his friend to take a picture of me with Qingzhou, and his friend was super nice about it and helped me out.]
[I heard there were other celebrities at the event, so after getting my picture, I went to check out the excitement.]
As he typed, the guy suddenly realized who he had been interacting with earlier and fell into silence.
While he went quiet, the internet exploded with joy.
[Bro, you really lived the dream, didn’t you?]
[I checked out your photo with Qingzhou, and let’s just say… your friend’s photography style is pretty abstract.]
[Haha, ‘He actually crouched down.’ Dude, you left Xu Sinian to go chase after someone else. That’s hilarious!]
[Is there some kind of luck boost at this year’s BCL? Xu Sinian doesn’t even play games, right? Why would he be there?]
[Somewhere in a forgotten corner, a girl who couldn’t get BCL tickets is quietly breaking into tears.]
By this point, the story should have ended, but then there were rumors that Chen Yi Bai had also been spotted near the Z City Sports Stadium.
There were no photos, but many eyewitnesses. Chen Yi Bai had a recognizable face, especially with his rare eye color. Once someone saw him in person, it was impossible not to recognize him when they made eye contact.
[I saw him. He was in the crowd (?). I even asked him what was going on, and he actually replied. He really is heart-stoppingly handsome.]
[That sounds exactly like something he would do (seriously).]
[I saw him too. He’s unbelievably good-looking, and he runs fast.]
[What is happening in Z City today? Are all the stars having a secret convention? Why wasn’t I invited?!]
[Watching a fan confess their love to Qingzhou in person, only for it to end in failure]
In an otherwise ordinary city on an otherwise ordinary day, many people experienced something far from ordinary.
For instance, some had the chance to bump into their favorite actor at night, while others joined in the excitement only to lose their hat.
The next morning, Chen Bai lay in bed and received a message from his money-making partner.
[Did you join the crowd last night?’]
Chen Bai “…”
Still groggy from just waking up, he picked up his phone and saw another message pop up.
His partner, knowing him all too well, didn’t seem surprised by his behavior of jumping into the commotion. They just reminded him to wear a hat next time.
Chen Bai briefly explained how he lost his hat in the chaos, proving that he had, in fact, worn one earlier.
Money-making partner “…”
His partner was silent for a moment before responding, [Classic you.]
Receiving such affirmation so early in the morning, Chen Bai got out of bed.
The high schooler was already up, working diligently on his homework in the living room, and the hotel had delivered breakfast.
Having learned their lesson from yesterday—and for other reasons—they arrived at the stadium just in time, settling into their new seats in the dark.
That day’s schedule included the finals in the morning and an all-star streamer match in the afternoon. Since the high schooler still had homework to finish, he decided to skip the afternoon match and leave after the finals.
The audience witnessed the underdog team lift the trophy, and the atmosphere was electric.
As the crowd erupted, some people clapped while rising from their seats, leaving before the lights came on.
Short vacations are brief, as are moments of joy. One moment the high schooler was clapping in the stadium, and the next, he was in the hotel car heading to the airport.
They had booked return tickets together this time, so he wouldn’t have to sit alone in the back again.
Not that it mattered much—he spent the ride with his head down, furiously working on his assignments.
The nearly three-hour flight gave him plenty of time to finish a few pages of homework.
While the high schooler wrote furiously, brother Bai, who had promised to keep him company, fell asleep almost immediately, head resting peacefully against the seatback.
The plane flew smoothly, the air conditioning hummed quietly, and the high schooler’s printed homework sat on the tray table. Just as he was finishing writing out a problem, something black caught the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw the person next to him—fast asleep—begin to tilt towards him.
Instinctively, he moved to catch them, but then noticed a hand reaching out from the side, steadying the leaning head.
A brief flash of light reflected off the watch on that hand’s wrist, a familiar one his brother often wore.
Xu Lang turned fully around, watching as his brother gently guided the head onto his own shoulder with a soft, careful touch.
…He didn’t know what to make of it. His brother’s actions seemed too gentle to be his usual self.
The tilted head was caught, resting on his brother’s shoulder, and the person slept on peacefully, seemingly unaware of the whole ordeal. With everything settled, Xu Lang turned back to his homework.
Xu Lang “…”
But nothing was really “settled.”
The more he thought about it, the more something felt off. His hand holding the pen twitched involuntarily.
At the very least, when his friends’ heads leaned on him during flights, his first instinct was to push them away.
And he had a feeling that if it had been him leaning in, his brother—who hated being bothered—would have shoved him off without hesitation.
In any case, it just didn’t sit right.
Xu Lang’s pen paused. He closed his eyes, then opened them, once again turning to look at his brother.
The cabin was quiet. His brother wasn’t asleep nor on his phone; instead, he was quietly gazing at the hand resting on the seat.
People often praised Er Bai’s hands on live streams—long and slender, they seemed delicate but had a certain intensity when typing.
Xu Lang figured that his and the live stream viewers’ appreciation of Er Bai’s hands was probably different from his brother’s.
People in the public eye were always hyper-aware of cameras and attention, with incredibly sharp instincts. The moment Xu Lang looked over, his brother’s eyes shifted slightly in his direction.
Xu Lang “…”
Xu Lang hesitated, “Wait… brother, you… Brother Erbai…”
Without looking up, his brother softly replied, “He’s sleeping.”
Xu Lang fell silent.
His brain, slow to process, was running on overdrive. The more he thought about it, the more things didn’t add up, and he felt like continuing down this train of thought would lead to a conclusion beyond his current understanding. In the end, he chose to stop thinking and focus on his homework.
With someone keeping watch nearby, his productivity soared.
In the three hours they were on the plane, the high schooler exceeded his usual pace, finishing two extra pages of homework. The one sleeping next to him, meanwhile, remained blissfully asleep and woke up feeling refreshed.
As they deboarded, the well-rested brother Bai noticed his little brother acting a bit strange. Concerned, he asked, “What’s wrong? Did you overwork yourself with all that homework?”
Xu Lang simply replied that everything was fine and that, surprisingly, he found doing homework to be quite enjoyable.
Chen Bai “…”
Brother Bai thought the high schooler might be in serious trouble.
Landing marked the official end of summer break. The troubled high schooler spent the day buried in his assignments, then packed his bag and returned to the school everyone “loved.”
While other students, who hadn’t been at school for two months, found everything fresh and exciting upon their return, Xu Lang, having already been there for two months, felt none of that. Ignoring the chatter about the old school building, he kept his head down and worked on his assignments.
Brother Bai was always ready to hang out whenever he had free time. There was no need to strive for perfection, but Xu Lang felt more secure knowing his grades were solid, so he kept pushing himself.
As the students went back to school, the film crew returned to work.
In the makeup room of a nearby hotel, Chen Bai hadn’t seen his study buddy in a couple of days. When they finally met again, he couldn’t help but notice how worn out the person looked.
The past few days had clearly been rough. His manager explained, “Just check the schedule. The last two days were filled with scenes between him, the female lead, and the third male lead.”
Chen Bai quietly offered his condolences for the person.
The manager glanced at him, “New hat?”
Reminded of his recent loss, Chen Bai replied, “It’s a friend’s hat. That 29.9 yuan is gone.”
He had splurged on a new one for 29.9 yuan, but it hadn’t arrived yet, so he was borrowing his good neighbor’s in the meantime.
The manager glanced at the hat he had set aside and nodded, understanding.
His friend had some pretty distinct traits. Whenever Chen Bai had something expensive, it was almost certainly his friend’s.
With the makeup artist absent, the manager remembered something and asked, “Didn’t I hear that Xu Sinian was also at the same event you attended? Did you see him?”
Given how much of a fan Chen Bai was — someone who’d even take a picture with a poster of Xu Sinian — he should’ve at least glanced in his direction if they crossed paths.
“Of course I saw him,” Chen Bai nodded with a smile, “We went together.”
A hopeless fan, once again spouting nonsense.
The manager gave a nod, humoring him, “Well, congratulations, then.”
Chen Bai graciously accepted the congratulations.
Most of the scenes were shot at the school, so there weren’t many to film at the production base. They’d wrap up in about a month.
On the day of the final shoot, it was hard to say whether the director or Zhou Jing felt the most relieved.
Both of them looked pretty happy. Zhou Jing even had a couple of extra drinks during the wrap party, and his goodbyes to the female lead and the third male actor were heartfelt. When the director subtly suggested that he promote the show with the female lead, Zhou Jing politely declined just as subtly.
Watching from the side, Chen Bai was glad he had taken a role without any romantic pairings.
The wrap party was both a celebration and a formality. The things said were mostly just polite chatter. Last time, Chen Bai had been whisked away by a friend right after the wrap party, missing out on the group gathering. This time, he joined in on the post-shoot celebration.
The celebration consisted of hanging out with Zhou Jing’s small group. The two teams had gotten to know each other after dealing with the late-night incident where Chen Bai had been secretly filmed studying. Since then, the actors often hung out together, and their teams followed suit, bonding over shared experiences. Their managers especially hit it off, having plenty to chat about.
Unable to decide where to go, they left it to chance and ended up picking a bar.
Chen Bai was fine with the bar. While the others drank, he could enjoy the fruit platter and pretend he was drinking by just breathing in the alcohol fumes.
The bar was a recommendation from one of Zhou Jing’s friends — a quiet place with good privacy, perfect for people like them who preferred to stay out of the spotlight. The managers were happy with the choice.
They booked a private room just big enough for their two small groups.
Under the warm, dim lighting, drinks and fruit were served. At first, everyone was politely chatting while drinking, talking about things that couldn’t be discussed on set. But at some point, whether because the conversation opened up or the alcohol kicked in, their refined chatter turned into a lively game of finger-guessing and drinking.
And just like that, a hand wearing a wrist brace — the same hand that had been quietly eating fruit — joined the game.
Whenever someone lost at finger-guessing, they’d drink. When Chen Bai lost, he’d eat a piece of fruit from the platter.
A clumsy hand is always clumsy, whether rolling dice or guessing fingers.
As half the fruit platter disappeared, the manager, suppressing a smile, finally spoke up, “If you want to eat fruits, you can just say so.”
As blunt as ever, without an ounce of mercy.
Chen Bai “…”
Chen Bai, the clumsy one, glanced at the pile of glasses in front of the second-clumsiest person and figured they weren’t in any position to criticize him.
The evening devolved into a rowdy mess as everyone drank. The two managers sat together, venting about the hardships of being agents. The younger assistants listened in awe as the older ones shared stories about the celebrities they used to manage — some of whom had since landed in jail.
In the end, the two actors found themselves sitting together. Zhou Jing plopped down next to Chen Bai and stopped drinking, opting instead to snack on the fruit platter.
Chen Bai chewed on a slice of watermelon, swallowed, and asked, “Not drinking anymore?”
He hadn’t tasted the alcohol, but the fruit here seemed surprisingly fresh.
Zhou Jing glanced at the managers and assistants, all of whom were clearly drunk, and said, “Someone needs to stay sober to call the ride. We can’t count on them.”
Chen Bai glanced at the drunken group and nodded in agreement.
Zhou Jing asked, “What about your side?”
He remembered that Chen Bai lived nearby, so he should be going home instead of returning to the hotel. But the rest of his group didn’t seem capable of getting back to the hotel on their own.
Chen Bai waved it off, saying, “It’s fine. Sister Qian didn’t get drunk.”
Zhou Jing nodded and said, “Good.”
Sister Qian, the “never-drunk,” was drunk.
She had gotten too caught up in her conversation with the other manager and unknowingly drank quite a bit. Coupled with what she’d had at the wrap party earlier, even her impressive alcohol tolerance couldn’t hold out.
Chen Bai “…”
After all the drinks had been downed, Chen Bai found himself standing outside the bar once again, watching his study buddy and his group head off in a different direction. Finally, he turned his attention to the three drunks by his side.
The three of them couldn’t even stand up straight without leaning on the streetlamp for support. Each had their own unique way of swaying, but none of them looked remotely sober.
Chen Bai pulled out his phone and began calculating how much it would cost to take a cab back to the hotel.
Chen Bai “…”
The night breeze swept down the street, making the scene feel oddly melancholic. The sight of those swaying figures made his heart feel even colder than the fare displayed on his phone.
After hesitating for only a second — any more would’ve been disrespectful to his wallet — Chen Bai decided to switch destinations, setting the address to his own place. Turning to the three drunks, he asked, “Is it okay if you guys crash at my place tonight?”
To be honest, none of the drunks had any clue what he was saying. They only vaguely sensed that it was something about where to stay. Without a care for the details, one of them raised a hand and made an “OK” sign.
So, Chen Bai called a cab, and the fare was six times cheaper than heading directly to the hotel.
There’s never a shortage of cars in the city, and the cab arrived within a few minutes. He loaded everyone into the car one by one, wiped the sweat from his brow, and finally sat down in the front passenger seat.
The apartment complex wasn’t far away, only about a 20-minute drive.
When the car arrived at the entrance of the complex, Chen Bai, who had just rested briefly, started unloading everyone again. After getting them out, he then began carrying them into the building.
He managed to bring the three drunk people into the elevator, and finally, things started to settle down. Chen Bai let out a sigh of relief, but hesitated for a moment when pressing the elevator button before selecting his floor.
The totally drunk manager suddenly regained some clarity and asked, “After all this time… you still can’t remember where you live?”
“No,” Chen Bai waved it off, “A friend lives here too, and I’ve gotten used to going to his place.”
He’d grown so accustomed to pressing the button for his friend’s floor that now, every time he came home, he had to stop and think about which floor to select.
After listening to his explanation, the manager propped herself up against the wall, standing slightly, and asked, “Your friend lives here too?”
Chen Bai nodded. “He lives upstairs, and he’s probably home now.”
