The Stand-in Side Character Only Wants to Make Money – CH89

Chapter 89 – Can You Accept Me?

Before the protagonist’s friend could react, he felt a weight on his body, with her knee pressing on his lower back, throwing off his balance, and a choking pressure wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. He collapsed at the entrance, just steps from freedom.

Slowly tightening the ribbon, she watched as the protagonist’s friend struggled and then went limp. Her knee still pressed against his back, she released the ribbon, tucked her hair behind her ear, and smiled faintly.

The dim light barely outlined her delicate features and the fluttering of her long lashes.

She casually wrapped the ribbon around her wrist and pulled an elastic band from her wrist, holding it in her mouth as she gathered her sweat-dampened hair into a loose bun. Her movements were lazy yet precise.

There was a chilling calm about her—a kind of madness that was hard to look away from.

The set fell silent. The manager stood amidst the crowd, glancing up to catch a glimpse of Xu Sinian’s expression. Failing to see him, she noticed Lin Wanyu instead.

Not only had Lin Wanyu stayed when he didn’t need to, but he was standing in the inner circle, his gaze fixed on the person in front of the camera, unwavering.

Chen Bai “…”

Something felt off, and the manager glanced at him a little longer.

The uninterrupted long take finally ended, and the previously silent set came back to life.

Xu Sinian stood on the far edge of the crowd, not too close to the entrance of the set. Since he and Chen Yi Bai were too familiar with each other, Chen Yi Bai always had the urge to laugh whenever he saw him during filming, so he had been exiled to the outskirts of the set.

During the shoot, he didn’t spare him a glance, but after the scene wrapped, he instinctively looked for him first. The person on camera thanked the actor he had fought with and then swept his gaze in Xu Sinian’s direction.

Just before their eyes could meet, someone from the inner circle stepped forward and called out, “Teacher Chen.”

It was Lin Wanyu, pushed forward by the actor playing the grad student. As he moved forward, he stumbled slightly, his voice trembling along with him.

The gaze that had almost landed on Xu Sinian withdrew and turned toward the person greeting him.

As his attention shifted, Xu Sinian’s hand at his side twitched slightly.

The last scene was completed in one take. Afterward, everyone packed up and headed back to the hotel.

On the ride back, the manager, for once, didn’t provide real-time updates on the show’s latest news. She was on her alt account, scrolling through Weibo.

After talking with Lin Wanyu and receiving praise from the director, Chen Yi Bai didn’t get a chance to speak to his good neighbor. Instead, he was on his phone, sending trash talk to his neighbor, carefully selecting his treasured collection of reaction images.

After sending a few, his manager finally looked up from her phone and turned to him. “Lin Wanyu is following you.”

Judging by the order of his follow list, it seemed he’d been following for quite a while, even before this collaboration.

“Huh?”

Chen Bai sent another reaction image and looked up, asking, “Why would he follow me?”

Some things were just guesses, so the manager didn’t say much, choosing to stay silent for a while.

Since it wasn’t something important, Chen Bai simply shrugged it off with an easy explanation, “Probably a slip of the finger.”

Sometimes people accidentally follow someone, and unfollowing them later can lead to rumors and speculation from fans or media accounts, so it’s easier to just leave it. His friend, Qian Jin, had done something similar recently.

His mind didn’t dwell on these things. The manager looked at him for a moment, then at his phone, still open to the chat interface, before turning off her own screen with a smile. “I’m fine, but I wonder if your friend can stay calm.”

Not understanding how the conversation had shifted to his friend, Chen Bai asked, “What about Comrade Old Xu?”

The manager waved it off. “Nothing.”

She was just feeling sympathetic toward someone who, for now, was only a “friend,” facing a future that looked both difficult and uncertain.

There were still a few years left until the debt was paid off. In those years, many co-actors would come and go, and who knows, maybe a miracle might happen.

But even after working hard for several years, there was no guarantee he’d be able to bring the person home in the end. In the meantime, there would be more people like Chu Mingyuan and Lin Wanyu, who might cause trouble.

The car contained a blockheaded Chen Bai. The assistant understood the manager’s meaning and couldn’t help but offer a moment of silent sympathy.

As it turned out, the observant manager wasn’t wrong.

Lin Wanyu was able to chat normally with others and got along well with the grad student actor, but when it came to Chen Yi Bai, he became inexplicably shy.

Shy, quiet, but surprisingly bold. He would often step forward, even daring to flirt right in front of Xu Sinian, who stood like a guardian deity, always using the excuse of rehearsing scenes.

And indeed, he managed to pull Chen Yi Bai away several times to earnestly rehearse.

In just over a month, Lin Wanyu had gone from addressing him as “Teacher Chen” to “Teacher Yi Bai,” and as they approached the final few scenes before wrapping, Yi Bai found himself facing an action sequence with his good neighbor—a scene he still hadn’t figured out how to approach.

Their fight scene became a joke within the crew, drawing everyone to come and watch how these two friends would battle it out.

The spectators were finally treated to the sight of two pros rapidly cycling through takes, only to repeatedly crack up and get NGs.

The aggressor was supposed to leap from the upper floor and attempt to choke the victim. The victim’s first reaction was to catch the attacker, holding him securely to his back to prevent him from falling.

In some strange way, the victim turned out to be the perfect partner for the attacker, staying in sync with their movements.

The hands on his body were steady, and the attacker, feeling safe from falling, leaned back laughing, repeatedly slapping his shoulder.

The cameraman didn’t stop filming, turning the actual footage into blooper reels on the spot.

As laughter spread through the set, the others couldn’t hold it in either. The director, sitting on his small stool, laughed so hard his bald head wobbled, and he dropped his script onto the floor.

Despite the setbacks, they managed to complete the take, much earlier than expected. After Yi Bai laughed like he’d never laughed before, they wrapped up. The producer glanced at the still-bright sky and the early hour, suggesting, “How about we try one more take?”

The movie wasn’t filmed in sequence, and they had already shot the final scene. What remained was the opening sequence, where the protagonist first meets the rude couple in the apartment building.

Chen Yi Bai vaguely remembered the plot and felt like something was off. After the producer left, he flipped through the script.

He remembered where the scene was. As he quickly turned the pages, his manager leaned over to take a look, raising an eyebrow.

The protagonist mistakenly thought the couple’s room was the landlord’s. When he knocked, the couple had been in the middle of making out. Interrupted mid-kiss, the rude character—played by Chen Yi Bai—began to curse. They didn’t have to actually kiss; the scene began after the kissing had already ended, with the couple answering the door.

The manager realized what was off too. Pausing mid-motion, she asked, “Have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“No,” Chen Bai replied.

As expected, the manager wasn’t surprised. She sighed and rubbed her face.

It was a bit much to expect someone so wooden to pull off this kind of scene.

Closing the script, the blockhead took a deep breath, “Let’s just give it a try.”

The makeup artist took the opportunity to touch up his look, adding some redness to his cheeks and around his eyes, making it look quite realistic.

The set was ready, the cameras were in position, and they were good to go. Just before they began, the assistant director handed Chen Yi Bai a lit prop cigarette, which he accepted.

Though he didn’t smoke, he had practiced a few times with Uncle Zhao, the driver. His posture holding the cigarette wasn’t too awkward and looked fairly natural.

Everything was ready. The second-floor hallway fell silent, and before the cigarette in his hand burned out, Chen Yi Bai and his “thug” partner entered the room.

The door closed behind them, cutting off the light. The entranceway was plunged into darkness, with only a faint glow coming from the window behind them in the living room. The burning red tip of the cigarette stood out even more in the dim light.

Through the thin door, in the quiet outside, two knocks sounded.

Exhaling a breath, Chen Yi Bai, with the cigarette between his fingers, closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. Annoyance flickered in his gaze as he bent down to open the door.

Squeak—

The old iron door creaked as it swung open, and the first thing the people gathered outside saw was a thin arm, wearing a black hair tie. Looking up, they were met with a face full of irritation.

Pushing the thug behind him aside with one hand, cigarette in the other, he sized up the person standing at the door, then leaned against the doorframe, raising his eyes through the haze of smoke. “Who are you?” he asked.

The atmosphere was spot on, until the camera zoomed in and locked onto his raised eyes. Both the director and producer instinctively rubbed their chins in unison, while others began to realize something was off.

Gao Qian “…”

Standing among the crowd, the manager couldn’t help but wipe her face.

Some things just can’t be forced.

The actions and lines were right, but with just one glance, the mood fell apart.

His eyes were too clean. There wasn’t a hint of ambiguity or haze, crystal clear, which clashed with the carefully applied redness around his eyes by the makeup artist, turning it into something completely different.

Assistant Xiao Meng thought for a moment, then quietly commented, “It doesn’t look like he was interrupted while making out with his boyfriend.”

More like he’d just broken up with his ex, found a fake boyfriend out of spite, and was pretending to be intimate when the ex showed up, deliberately putting on an annoyed front to get under their skin.

A concise and accurate summary. The manager turned her head, “Are you a genius?”

Xiao Meng smiled modestly in a classic Chen Yi Bai manner.

The director quickly called “cut” and motioned for Chen Yi Bai to come over for a chat.

Snuffing out the cigarette, Chen Yi Bai walked over and crouched down next to the director.

Waving everyone else away for the moment, the director tapped the script against his palm, then cautiously asked in a low voice, “I hope I’m not being too forward, but Yi Bai, have you ever been in a relationship?”

Caught instantly, Chen Yi Bai could only nod truthfully.

Well, that made things tricky. With the confirmation, the director scratched his chin even more vigorously, almost rubbing it raw, before he stopped, looking first at Lin Wanyu not far away, then at the stoic figure of a certain award-winning actor who was watching like a guardian angel. Their eyes met briefly, and an inexplicable sense of guilt surged through the director.

Quickly averting his gaze, the director patted his chest to calm himself, turned away from that intense stare, and leaned closer, speaking in a conspiratorial whisper, “What’s your take on filming a kiss scene?”

Chen Yi Bai looked up.

Chen Bai “…”

Today wasn’t going anywhere. The crew wrapped up early, and the actors headed to their respective cars.

Back in the car, unlike usual, the typically chatty Chen Yi Bai was surprisingly quiet. He didn’t send his usual trash talk or reaction images to his good neighbor. With his phone stuffed in his jacket pocket, he stared at his reflection in the window.

The manager glanced at him and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Leaning back against the seat, Chen Bai turned his head and smiled faintly, “Nothing. Just thinking about something. I’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

When they reached the hotel, he jumped out of the car as usual, headed to his room, and quickly showered, changing into his puppy-patterned pajamas.

Whoosh—

The sound of the water stopped. With a towel on his head, after replying to his good neighbor’s message, Chen Bai sat down on the couch, grabbed the work tablet his manager had given him, and opened a video app, searching for a relevant keyword. He started watching the first recommended video.

With damp hair falling over his forehead, his eyes followed the images on the screen as he slowly dried his hair.

The videos auto-played, one after another. His pupils tracked the footage, and as his hair dried halfway, he got lazy and just draped the towel over his head. The phone on the side lit up twice before dimming again, unnoticed.

As the video switched to the next one, a knock sounded at the door.

Not too soft, not too loud—two familiar knocks. He paused the video and got up to open the door.

As expected, it was his good neighbor, now dressed in casual clothes, standing at the entrance and looking at him. Chen Bai waved and greeted, “Good evening.”

His neighbor nodded and then asked, “Something on your mind today?”

Though phrased as a question, it sounded more like a statement.

Chen Bai blinked, “How did you know?”

His neighbor replied, “You didn’t send your favorite reaction image today.”

To be seen through because of a reaction image! Chen Bai stared at him a little longer, seriously asking, “Comrade Old Xu, were you really a cop before?”

The potentially ex-cop asked if he could come in. Chen Bai nodded and stepped aside.

Only the living room light was on. The tablet on the coffee table still glowed, frozen on an image of two characters kissing.

Without commenting on the image on the tablet, Old Xu glanced at the towel on Chen Bai’s head. He headed to the bathroom, fetched a hairdryer, and asked as he came back, “So, what happened today?”

Chen Bai sat back down on the couch. The words “nothing happened” were on the tip of his tongue but didn’t come out. He glanced at the image on the tablet and finally said, “The director asked if I was willing to shoot a kiss scene today.”

His gaze lingered on the tablet screen, and he didn’t notice the slight pause in his neighbor’s movements behind him. Leaning back on the couch, he continued.

“I can’t pull off the ‘just kissed’ look, but the kiss is important—it’s a setup for the later scene. It can’t be skipped; it’s too significant. If I can’t act it, I’ll have to do it for real.”

The director had told him to think it over tonight and try again tomorrow. If it still didn’t work, they’d have to rewrite the script. The fact that they were giving him time to figure it out was already a generous offer.

So, he rushed back to study tonight, trying to figure out exactly what kind of look the director wanted. The results so far could only be described as unimpressive, or perhaps nonexistent.

Bowing his head, Xu Sinian turned on the hairdryer. He now understood what the director and producer had been calling about after they returned to the hotel—they had something to discuss.

Without changing his expression, he ran his fingers through the fine strands of Chen Bai’s hair and asked, “Did Lin Wanyu agree?”

Though it was phrased as a statement, the subtle difference in tone was drowned out by the noise of the hairdryer, making it hard to catch.

Chen Bai replied with a yes.

It seemed that the unluckiest person in this situation was Lin Wanyu, who, due to Chen Bai’s issue, might end up having to kiss another man.

The hairdryer stopped.

Noticing the sudden silence and thinking something might be wrong, Chen Bai looked up, just in time to meet his good neighbor’s deep gaze.

His neighbor asked, “You don’t want to try with him?”

Chen Bai nodded, instinctively poking the little puppy design on his chest, feeling that it would be strange no matter how he looked at it.

“What about someone else?” Xu Sinian asked. “Is there anyone else you’d be okay with?”

Chen Bai thought about it for a moment, then felt a shiver of goosebumps creep up his arms. He waved his hand quickly, “No, that would be even weirder.”

He rubbed his arms, trying to get rid of the goosebumps, and in the quiet, he heard his good neighbor speak again:

“What about me?”

Chen Bai “…?”

Thinking he had misheard, Chen Bai jerked his head up, trying to get Xu Sinian to repeat what he had just said.

Meeting his gaze directly this time, Xu Sinian didn’t look away. In a low voice, he asked, “Would you be okay with me?”

No, he hadn’t heard wrong.

It was an unexpected question, one that had never crossed his mind before. Chen Bai’s eyes widened, his brain scrambling to process it.

Maybe the rubbing had worked, because the goosebumps had mostly subsided. With too many thoughts racing through his mind, his brain began simplifying things until it reduced the question to its basic form—could he accept it or not?

After a moment of silent contemplation, he answered honestly, “I suppose I could.”

Compared to facing someone he wasn’t familiar with, it was certainly easier to accept with a close friend.

“But you’re not playing a thug…”

Before he could finish his thought, he looked up again and was directly met with Xu Sinian’s eyes.

Dark and bottomless. Xu Sinian leaned in, closing the distance until the crease in his eyelids, which Chen Bai had often complimented, was clearly visible.

They had been this close before, but somehow, this time felt different.

One of Xu Sinian’s hands was resting on the back of the couch, close to Chen Bai’s neck. As he looked over, he could see the veins standing out on the back of Xu Sinian’s hand, and a little further up, the cold gray wristwatch that had once been on Chen Yibai’s wrist for a while.

His nose was filled with a familiar, pleasant scent.

When their eyes met again, he saw something new in Xu Sinian’s gaze—emotions that had never been there before and that he couldn’t quite decipher.

Intense and unhidden.

He could already feel the faint tickle of Xu Sinian’s warm breath against his face. The distance between them was too close. Even someone as clueless as Chen Bai knew what this was leading to.

His hand, which had been resting on the couch, moved slightly, but he didn’t pull back. He just sat there, too stunned for his brain to keep up.

Even though he had no experience with this, at the very least, he knew that friends could hold hands and hug, but they didn’t kiss.

Chen Bai “…”

The distance between them shrank further. Just before their lips met, Xu Sinian paused.

Chen Bai didn’t move. Though shocked, his pupils remained clear, and he was still conscious. He neither withdrew nor pushed Xu Sinian away.

With one hand tangled in his damp, soft hair, Xu Sinian lowered his head and their lips touched lightly.

In an instant, Chen Bai’s pale gray pupils widened.

As his breath was slowly stolen away, his pupils began to blur, and tears of reflex dampened his eyelashes. The hand he had been using to support himself on the couch grew weak, sliding down involuntarily—until a large hand caught it halfway.

The hand on his lower back was hot and strong. It was the same hand that could easily fend off his playful sneak attacks and lift any amount of heavy shopping bags from the supermarket. Chen Bai knew well how much strength it held.

Just as he was about to completely collapse, the grip on his back kept him upright. Right before his consciousness slipped, they separated briefly. Air finally returned to his lungs, and tears wetted his lashes as he gasped for breath. With a weak hand, he grasped at Xu Sinian’s shirt, his voice hoarse as he whispered, “I can’t… I can’t breathe… Old Xu.”

He was panting so hard that even the words “Comrade Old Xu” were difficult to get out. Xu Sinian’s gaze lingered on his naturally reddened eyes as he slowly rubbed his back, helping him take deep breaths.

His voice was light and low, much like the tone he’d used when soothing Chen Bai over the phone before, calming him down when he was crying big, fat tears. But this time, there was no cold phone between them, and Chen Bai could even feel the slight vibrations from Xu Sinian’s voice as he spoke close to his ear.

Chen Bai managed to catch his breath, only to lose it once again.

Xu Sinian lowered his gaze slightly, taking Chen Yibai’s hand, which was about to slip from his shirt, and guiding it to rest around his waist. The pressure on Chen Bai’s back caused his hand to reflexively tighten, clutching Xu Sinian’s shirt fabric.