Chapter 47: Ah, Young Master
Understanding Han Cheng’s intentions, Qi Sheng was especially attentive to Jiang Yu today, treating him with utmost care.
Jiang Yu wrapped the device around his waist. Once powered on, it gradually heated, warming his lower back pleasantly.
“Director, what is this? Where can I get one?” Jiang Yu was delighted and wanted to buy one for himself.
“A simple waist massager. You can find it on Taobao. This one lasts three hours on a full charge. I’m giving this one to you. If you want 24-hour use, you can plug it in or buy more. I’ll send you the link later.”
“Thanks, Director.”
“You’re welcome.” Qi Sheng grinned, his big teeth showing, but inwardly he thought: the person who truly understands Jiang Yu is still Han Cheng. This gift made Jiang Yu so happy.
Giving a gift without letting Jiang Yu know? Ha, he’s thirty and still playing out an idol drama routine. The lovesick character just doesn’t suit Han Cheng’s playboy persona.
Everything was ready, and filming officially began.
Jiang Yu wore a raincoat over his suit and had the heated massage device wrapped around his waist. September wasn’t particularly cold yet, and the rain falling on him even felt somewhat refreshing.
Jiang Yu pushed the wheelchair wheels, running wildly through the narrow alley under the director’s guidance. To capture the perfect shots, he ran back and forth through three small alleys over a dozen times.
Sweat and rain soaked his body, alternating between cold and hot, draining his energy. The initial comfort of the rain was long gone.
“Cut!” Finally, when Jiang Yu’s arms were trembling from exhaustion, Qi Sheng shouted.
A crowd rushed over. Wang Huan didn’t even manage to squeeze in, and already someone was pushing Jiang Yu’s wheelchair indoors to shelter him from the rain.
“Quick, take off his wet clothes, dry his hair, is the bath water ready? Push him into the bathroom for a hot shower. Turn on the warm air in the room—don’t let him catch a cold!” Qi Sheng barked orders.
Jiang Yu had never been treated so ceremoniously. People started pulling off his coat and raincoat. A young girl even tried to remove his last shirt, but Jiang Yu firmly blocked her: “No need, I can do it myself.”
“Jiang Yu, what’s a big man shy about? Take off your wet clothes—don’t catch a cold. How’s your waist?” Qi Sheng pushed the girl aside and personally began helping remove Jiang Yu’s clothes.
“No, really, I’m fine. My waist is fine too. I can take off my clothes and shower myself,” Jiang Yu insisted, protecting his last piece of clothing. He broke through the crowd and bumped into the waiting Wang Huan, pulling him into the bathroom.
“You okay, Brother Yu?” Wang Huan asked, locking the door behind them, breathing heavily.
“Yeah, just a little cold. I’ll take a shower. Don’t want to actually catch a cold.” Jiang Yu took off his remaining clothes and sank into the warm bathtub.
“Why were all those people so overenthusiastic today? I didn’t even get a chance to squeeze in,” Wang Huan complained, tossing the wet clothes into the washing machine.
“I’ve never been treated with such attention either,” Jiang Yu replied, puzzled.
When he was with Han Cheng, they kept a low profile and didn’t socialize much. Many didn’t even know Jiang Yu’s relationship with Han Cheng. Those who did were only polite. But today, the attention felt almost excessive.
Was it because of Han Cheng—or Kou Dehai?
Qi Sheng surely knew Jiang Yu had broken up with Han Cheng. So was it Kou Dehai? Who was this Kou Dehai, and what was his connection to Han Cheng? What exactly was Han Cheng up to?
Unable to figure it out, Jiang Yu felt a bit frustrated. Even though he had freed himself from Han Cheng, he still felt like he was caught in Han Cheng’s grasp.
After showering, he felt much better. Qi Sheng checked the weather and said there would be rain in the afternoon, so filming paused until later.
After lunch and a nap, Jiang Yu felt awkward in his waist—not painful, just as if his legs and waist weren’t cooperating, making walking a bit difficult.
Fortunately, this scene was shot in a wheelchair. After completing this scene, only one remained before wrap-up, allowing him to finish early and enjoy his free time.
When Qi Sheng asked about his condition, Jiang Yu nodded to indicate he was fine.
Ji Xu donned his costume: a long, teal robe. Though not spectacular, he was tall, handsome, and exuded a calm, scholarly charm with a light smile.
A group of crew members crowded around to compliment him. Jiang Yu, wearing the clean suit from the morning, sat in his wheelchair, observing Ji Xu, who was grinning from all the praise.
With looks, body, education, and family background, Jiang Yu was completely outclassed.
Though everyone says people are equal, we still naturally rank each other. Han Cheng and Ji Xu clearly belonged to the same world.
Jiang Yu truly felt like a thief, intruding into a world that wasn’t his. Though Han Cheng had dragged him in, he had once been tempted. That temptation should never have existed—it was his delusion.
Suddenly, Jiang Yu felt at peace. Ji Xu’s antagonism was merely defending his love. And Jiang Yu’s resistance was defending the small dignity that he wasn’t with Han Cheng for money.
Neither he nor Ji Xu was wrong. The real culprit was Han Cheng, that damned man.
Setting aside personal grievances, Jiang Yu admitted that some of the compliments were genuine—Ji Xu really was beautiful.
“Am I good-looking? Staring at me so long, feeling inferior?” Jiang Yu looked too directly. Ji Xu noticed and strutted over, like a peacock displaying its plumage, showing off the robe.
“A vase can be beautiful, but it should hold flowers. I hope you’re not just beautiful but hollow inside,” Jiang Yu muttered, even though he had accepted the truth, unable to speak properly to Ji Xu.
“Heh, my vase is filled with gold,” Ji Xu said proudly, strutting away with head high and chest out, like a peacock in full display.
Jiang Yu returned to the rain. The afternoon rain was heavier than the morning drizzle—now more like a downpour.
“Action!” the director shouted. Jiang Yu pushed the wheelchair into the rain. Around a corner, Ji Xu appeared holding an umbrella, and they met face-to-face.
“Young Master Jiang?” Ji Xu exclaimed, surprisingly genuinely—though he misnamed Jiang Yu’s character.
“Cut. Ji Xu, it’s Young Master Yang,” Qi Sheng shouted through the megaphone.
Ji Xu’s surprise was clearly overacted this time. Looking at Jiang Yu in the rain, he said, “Ah, sorry, seeing you reminded me of your name. Director, sorry, let’s do it again.”
“Remember, it’s Young Master Yang. Again.”
Qi Sheng commanded, and Jiang Yu had to push the wheelchair through the rain once more.
“Ah, Young Master Wang.”
“It’s Young Master Yang.”
“Oh, Young Master Han.”
“Heh, Young Master Wang.”
“Ah, Young Master Zhang.”
Jiang Yu tilted his head, expressionless, staring at Ji Xu, who was smiling at him. Suddenly, Jiang Yu stood up, snatched the umbrella from Ji Xu’s hand, and with all his strength pushed him. Ji Xu went crashing to the ground.
He was wrong—he shouldn’t have tried to see things from Ji Xu’s perspective, shouldn’t have sympathized with him. This guy was just like Han Cheng, a complete jerk. No wonder the two of them were made for each other.
