Chapter 9: Nightmare
In other people’s eyes, Jiang Yu looked lazy, but he felt that forcing himself to work with an injured waist—processing ingredients and helping wrap wontons—already counted as being very professional.
After stubbornly finishing a bowl of crayfish-filled wontons, Jiang Yu took the medicine prescribed by the doctor. Perhaps it contained something to induce sleep, because during the post-dinner game segment, he slumped against the pink pig and fell asleep.
He was woken by Su Yang. “Little Yu, today’s filming is finished. Go upstairs and sleep.”
“Sorry, I fell asleep,” Jiang Yu said apologetically, bracing himself on the coffee table as he stood up.
After taking the medicine and sleeping for a bit, his waist felt much better.
It was lively outside. Jiang Yu suddenly heard Han Cheng’s voice and thought he was mistaken. He looked toward the door.
Su Yang smiled like someone who enjoyed stirring things up. “President Han came to pick up Ji Xu. Someone also came to pick up Meng Yi. The cameras are already off. If you have something to do tonight, you don’t have to sleep here. Just come back before ten tomorrow morning. After ten, we’ll film everyone getting up, have breakfast, and then you can leave.”
“I’m fine. I’ll sleep here tonight,” Jiang Yu said. He glanced at Ji Xu and Han Cheng chatting happily, then let his gaze fall on the person who had come to pick up Meng Yi.
Not quite sure of what he was seeing, Jiang Yu stepped outside and hid among the crowd. When he finally saw the old man’s face clearly, his eyes widened in shock. Unspeakable memories flooded his mind, and his whole body began to tremble uncontrollably.
The old man held Meng Yi’s hand, said goodbye to Han Cheng, and pulled the stiffly smiling Meng Yi into the car. As Jiang Yu watched the car slowly drive away, his heart turned ice-cold.
Why was Meng Yi going with that pervert? Was it because of Han Cheng again? How long was Han Cheng going to cooperate with that old man, and how many people was he going to offer up to that old degenerate before he was satisfied?
A surge of anger rose in Jiang Yu’s chest as he looked toward Han Cheng.
In an instant, his gaze met Han Cheng’s indifferent eyes. Those black eyes were cold and aloof, filled with disregard for anyone unrelated—just as cold as they had been back then, when Jiang Yu had been taken away by that old pervert and had begged Han Cheng for help.
All the anger and resentment in his heart dissipated the moment he saw Han Cheng’s eyes. That man had no heart; he could not see other people’s suffering.
With the anger gone, Jiang Yu felt only cold. On a summer night of twenty-five or twenty-six degrees, he was shivering.
Rubbing the goosebumps rising on his arms, Jiang Yu went back inside and forced a smile as he said to Su Ming, “I’m sleepy. I’m going upstairs to rest.”
“Have a good rest. We get up at ten tomorrow,” Su Ming said kindly, patting Jiang Yu on the shoulder.
Supporting his waist, Jiang Yu slowly made his way up to the second floor. Ji Xu tugged at Han Cheng’s sleeve, suppressing the unease and irritation in his heart, and pulled Han Cheng’s gaze away from Jiang Yu’s retreating figure. “A-Cheng, let’s go too.”
Han Cheng turned back and looked at Ji Xu for a long time, but his eyes were unfocused, clearly elsewhere.
With people watching all around, Ji Xu smiled awkwardly and tugged Han Cheng a bit harder. “A-Cheng, what are you thinking about?”
“You stay here tonight,” Han Cheng finally snapped out of it, coldly tossing out a single sentence before getting into the car. The driver drove off without the slightest hesitation, leaving Ji Xu standing there, forcing a smile and grinding his teeth as he watched Han Cheng leave.
“Little Xu, why didn’t you go with him?” Jiang Shiran and Su Ming, who had watched Han Cheng depart, looked at Ji Xu in confusion.
Ji Xu turned back, the smile on his face flawless. “Even though the cameras aren’t recording, work is still work. Leaving halfway wouldn’t be very appropriate. I’ll sleep here tonight so we can film the most authentic waking-up scene tomorrow morning.”
This answer not only showed his professionalism but also subtly hinted at Meng Yi’s lack of it. Ji Xu felt it was a perfect response.
“Then hurry up and get some sleep. We’re filming the wake-up scene at ten tomorrow,” Jiang Shiran said with a faint smile. A seasoned fox, he didn’t bite at Ji Xu’s little scheme.
After seeing Han Cheng off, everyone at the Leisure House returned to their rooms to rest.
As soon as Ji Xu entered his room, the smile vanished. The gentle, scholarly air around him darkened, his expression twisting into something frightening.
Han Cheng had actually left—left without taking him along. Ji Xu had lowered himself and begged Han Cheng to come pick him up, all to show off that he was special to Han Cheng.
But Han Cheng had driven off without him. All his plans had gone up in smoke.
It was Jiang Yu. From the moment Jiang Yu appeared, Han Cheng’s gaze had been glued to him, not even leaving as Jiang Yu went upstairs.
Just because Jiang Yu looked as though he’d been triggered by something—angry and despairing—Han Cheng hadn’t even tried to hide the concern in his eyes, abandoning Ji Xu and leaving.
Ji Xu had followed Han Cheng’s line of sight and noticed something was wrong with Jiang Yu too. But why did Jiang Yu have that look, as if everything had been destroyed?
It seemed to have been when he saw Meng Yi being taken away by a potbellied old man—Jiang Yu had been shocked, furious, and helpless.
Was it because of Meng Yi, or because of that old man?
Unable to figure it out, Ji Xu picked up his phone and called his agent. “Brother Liu, help me look into Meng Yi and an old man. Check what kind of relationship they have.”
Brother Liu moved quickly. And since Han Cheng hadn’t bothered to help Meng Yi hide anything, the old man’s identity was soon uncovered, and Meng Yi’s relationship with him was just as easy to find out.
When Ji Xu saw the results, he felt surprised, pleased, and disdainful all at once. Han Cheng was truly ruthless toward Meng Yi—actually handing him over to that kind of old pervert.
Meng Yi no longer posed any threat and could be ignored. Now the only thorn in his eye, the only one he truly hated, was Jiang Yu.
That night, Jiang Yu slept very uneasily. He kept dreaming of the face of the old man who had taken Meng Yi away, replaying again and again that unbearable night.
In the recurring dream, there was a dim room, a camera blinking with a red light. Jiang Yu desperately wanted to escape, but he couldn’t find where the doors or windows were.
He clearly remembered there being a window over there. He had jumped out of it. So why was it gone? Why was it no longer there?
“Brother Yu, Brother Yu.” Someone kept calling his name by his ear.
That voice was so familiar. Who was it? Had someone come to save him?
A beam of white light suddenly lit up on the wall—that was where the window was. The window finally appeared.
“Brother Yu, wake up, Brother Yu.” The voice grew louder and louder, and the window became clearer and clearer.
Jiang Yu struggled free of the restraints on his body, slammed into the window, shattered the glass, and jumped out of the dark little room.
A fall from the third floor hurt badly. Jiang Yu remembered that feeling, pain etched into his mind. He closed his eyes and curled his body into a ball. Even if his waist would be injured, his life was more important.
“Brother Yu!” A loud shout exploded in his ears. Jiang Yu suddenly opened his eyes. The snow-white ceiling left him momentarily confused—hadn’t he jumped?
“Brother Yu, are you okay?” Wang Huan’s big face suddenly blocked the ceiling, filling Jiang Yu’s entire field of vision.
“Why are you here?” Jiang Yu pushed Wang Huan’s face away as his awareness returned. He remembered he was on the second floor of the Leisure House.
“If I hadn’t come, you’d have taken a bath in your own bed. Brother Yu, did you have a nightmare? You’re drenched in sweat. I couldn’t wake you no matter how I called you—it was terrifying.” Wang Huan said with lingering fear as he helped Jiang Yu sit up.
Only then did Jiang Yu realize that his pajamas were soaked through, even the bedding beneath him damp in a large patch. That night’s nightmares had truly been tormenting.
“Thank you,” Jiang Yu said sincerely. If it hadn’t been for Wang Huan calling him, he would probably still be trapped in the dream. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he genuinely thanked him.
“What are you thanking me for? Hurry up and get up to take a shower—we’ll be filming the wake-up scene soon.” Wang Huan helped Jiang Yu out of bed while tidying the sweat-soaked bedding himself.
Feeling sticky and uncomfortable all over, Jiang Yu went into the bathroom and took a shower. Clean and refreshed, he didn’t look like someone who had just woken up at all.
After changing the bedding, Wang Huan somehow called over someone else’s makeup artist and had Jiang Yu fixed up. With messy hair and a slightly oily-looking face, he looked exactly like he had just gotten out of bed.
Looking at himself in the mirror—clearly wearing makeup yet still looking freshly awakened—Jiang Yu couldn’t help but admire the makeup artist’s skill.
Wang Huan pulled Jiang Yu back into the freshly made, clean bed. Jiang Yu asked curiously, “Whose makeup artist was that? They’re really amazing.”
“Su Ming, Teacher Su’s. I told him you were drenched in sweat and took a shower, so Teacher Su had his makeup artist come help.
Brother Yu, go to sleep quickly. I’ll turn on the wall camera. Then you can pretend you’ve just woken up and go wash up again.”
“Okay.” Jiang Yu pulled the blanket over himself and closed his eyes, letting out a helpless sigh. Even waking up had to be acted out—no wonder singers could cross over into acting.
Life really was a play.
