APR 45

Zhong Su kicked the offerings like the fire basin into the river, watching them bob up and down on the surface before swirling and sinking, carried away by the current.

Only then did he feel a heavy breath escape his chest, his mood lifting somewhat.

To some extent, he could understand Chen Huan’s dislike for others making a grand spectacle of mourning “Zhong Su”—once dead, what more was there to say?

Living was one outcome, death was just another. Zhong Su accepted his own death without much resentment or unwillingness.

From the day he joined the organization, he had mentally prepared himself for a bad end.

“That guy Chen Huan, was he smiling when he spoke just now? His attitude really is terrible,” Zhong Su muttered to himself, pressing his hand against the back of his neck and rubbing it hard.

The people around him didn’t look up, still pouring their love and longing for their loved ones into the flames. Zhong Su walked past them and the blazing fire, back onto the bridge, all the way to the nearest bus stop, where he took a bus back to his rented apartment.

The eerie atmosphere of the Ghost Festival didn’t affect the film crew’s regular schedule.

Jiang Xun was like a wound-up rooster, crowing before dawn every day, using his grating voice to shout across the entire set, berating anyone who dared not take his precious film seriously.

After some time adjusting, Zhong Su had grown accustomed to the crew’s pace and could get into character relatively quickly. He had filmed many scenes intermittently without much criticism from Jiang Xun.

As the mole within the organization in the film, Zhong Su had many scenes with Lu Yizhou, who played the police officer in contact with the mole. Despite disliking that mixed-blood foreigner who always smiled with ill intentions, he had no choice but to deal with him patiently.

Though his first impression was poor, Zhong Su had to admit that Lu Yizhou, despite being hypocritical to the core—a wolf in sheep’s clothing—was exceptionally polished on the surface.

His daily greetings were polite and courteous, and he treated crew members and extras with grace, often buying coffee or sweet soups for the entire team out of his own pocket, without a trace of a celebrity air.

Zhou Kaiwen was utterly infatuated with him. Without Jiang Xun having to scold him for “arriving late and acting like a diva,” on days when Lu Yizhou was on set, Zhou Kaiwen would arrive early and wait at the entrance of the studio to intercept his van.

Lu Yizhou, meanwhile, seemed adept at handling the attention and adoration from everyone, accepting any gestures of goodwill without refusal, while also showing particular interest in Zhong Su.

“Zhong, good morning. I’m so glad you still look as captivating as ever today,” Lu Yizhou said, holding a script and smiling as he stood before Zhong Su.

Zhong Su was marking his own script with a pen. Hearing his voice, the pen tip paused, and he looked up. “What is it?”

Lu Yizhou looked at him, gently tapping the script in his hand. His expression was earnest, but his refined features carried a seductive allure. A faint, teasing smile curled at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t we agree? We have a scene together today. I’ll help you run through the lines in advance.”

As someone who wore a mask even in daily life, Lu Yizhou was a natural at acting.

And Zhong Su, as a newcomer who had never acted before, greatly needed this kind of effortless experience.

Zhong Su raised one eyebrow, glancing at the staff busily arranging props and Jiang Xun, who was glaring fiercely at everyone as they worked. He nodded, “Alright, let’s go. We’ll start by familiarizing ourselves with the blocking.”

Zhong Su stood up, half a head shorter than Lu Yizhou, and walked into the set where they would soon be filming.

Today’s scene focused on the plot where “Lin Wenhan meets Si Xiaoxing in a remote location to inform the police about recent changes within the gang.”

The location was set in an abandoned factory building. To create a sufficiently cold, harsh, and gloomy atmosphere, the props team had piled rusted steel beams, cables, and broken bricks throughout the space.

Zhong Su leaned against a wall, arms crossed, watching as Lu Yizhou approached with the script, stopping just half a step away. He could smell the sweet, intoxicating scent of a boozy perfume lingering on the other man.

In his mind, he labeled it as the stench of a fox.

Their faces were so close their eyelashes nearly touched. Lu Yizhou gazed into Zhong Su’s hazel eyes, a smile playing on his lips, and said, “‘Lin, I was so worried about you. Why did you suddenly lose contact during the arrest operation the other day? I thought Boss Gao had found you out. I was so anxious I almost used the inside contact in the gang to check on you.’ Your line comes next.”

Zhong Su considered the tone and delivered his line coolly, “So, did you use it?”

Lu Yizhou tilted his head, “What?”

Zhong Su replied, “Don’t play dumb. I’m asking about the inside contact you mentioned.”

“I said I almost used it,” Lu Yizhou blinked, a sly note in his voice. “Anyway, you didn’t actually get into trouble, did you?”

Zhong Su stared at the frivolously smiling man before him. He knew this person was no good, only pretending to care while sending him to his death. He couldn’t be bothered to engage and coldly moved on to the main topic: “‘Recently, a newcomer joined the gang—a reckless kid who’s always trying to stand out. Boss Gao thinks highly of him and has him working with me on a couple of jobs. I’ll keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t disrupt the plan. But I need to lay low for a while and can’t pass you any more information…'”

“‘What’s wrong, Lin? Are you afraid the gang will find out you’re a traitor?'” Lu Yizhou put on a troubled expression, shaking his head. “‘But this isn’t what we agreed on. You give me information, and I help you dismantle the gang so you can turn state’s witness and gain your freedom. If you can’t keep feeding me information, how am I supposed to help you?'”

The handsome young man’s demeanor turned icy and intense as he suddenly grabbed Lu Yizhou’s collar, demanding, “‘What do you mean by that? You promised—'”

Before he could finish, Lu Yizhou interrupted, “Ah, no, Zhong, that’s not how this scene is supposed to be played.”

His thumb brushed lightly against Zhong Su’s jaw, tilting his face up slightly as he coaxed, “I love your coldness, but when you deliver this line, your eyes need to burn with more intensity. You’re a soul desperate for freedom, and nothing can stand in your way. You need to focus on me—only on me. You’re angry at my inaction, yet you crave me, depend on me.”

Lu Yizhou tightened his grip on Zhong Su’s jaw, his narrow pupils contracting like a cat’s—both eerie and dreamlike—as they locked onto the handsome young man’s face. “Rely on me. Because you are my dog, and I am the only one who cares about you, the only one who can pull you out of the mud.”

He was surprised to find that his temptation seemed ineffective. The handsome young man remained clear-eyed and bristled dangerously.

“Are you saying this to ‘Lin Wenhan’ or to me?” Zhong Su met Lu Yizhou’s green gaze squarely as he spoke, gripping the fingers pinching his face and forcefully prying them away. “I’ve wanted to tell you since our first meeting—you have terrible manners. You fake foreign ghost, if you dare touch me casually again, I’ll break one of your fingers.”

Feeling the sharp, throbbing pain in his fingers, Lu Yizhou revealed his true emotions, wincing in discomfort. But it lasted only a moment before he suppressed the pained expression.

Instead, he flashed an even brighter smile and said softly, “You’re hurting me a little. This was just a small trick to help you get into character. Zhong, you’re too sensitive. The more I get to know you, the more I’m amazed by how adorable you are.”

Lu Yizhou looked down at Zhong Su, his gaze tender, as if indulging a cat that loved to bristle—a mix of exasperation and an incurable sense of superiority.

Zhong Su frowned. Even though he was the one issuing the warning, he still felt harassed.

This guy was truly twisted.

Disgusted, Zhong Su shoved Lu Yizhou’s hand away and stepped aside, warning, “If you’re talking about this cold, angry emotion? Then you’ve successfully gotten me into character.”

“Rehearsal ends here. By the way, I’m not joking, and I’m not acting. So, watch your hands.”

This kind of extremely narcissistic lunatic just wanted to see others submit foolishly. With people like him, you had to make it clear that he wasn’t someone to be trifled with.

At that moment, Jiang Xun, finally satisfied with the set, picked up his megaphone and began shouting, “Everyone, take your positions! We’re about to start filming!”

His eyes swept across the set and landed on Zhong Su. Flipping the bangs from his forehead, he walked over and said, “Zhong Su, today’s first scene is between you and Lu Yizhou. In the movie, your character is under suspicion from the boss, so you should be in a trapped-animal mindset. Remember to look deeply resentful when you appear—like, oh right—like your mother just died right in front of you.”

As soon as he said this, Xiao Lao Dao, who was standing beside him, let out a sharp cry, “Uncle, what are you saying?!”

Jiang Xun also realized his mistake and quickly spat, “Ugh, I misspoke—I take it back. What I meant was, just imagine something emotional dying right in front of you.”

That phrasing wasn’t much gentler either.

Xiao Lao Dao hurriedly smoothed things over, “Zhong Su, don’t mind him. Uncle didn’t mean any harm.”

Zhong Su shrugged indifferently and said, “It doesn’t matter. I’m an orphan.”

The atmosphere instantly grew even more awkward. Xiao Lao Dao swiftly covered Jiang Xun’s mouth just as he was about to speak again, afraid he might utter something even worse. Turning Jiang Xun’s head toward Fang Jiashu, he said urgently, “Uncle, Assistant Director Fang seems to need you. Look!”

Xiao Lao Dao’s original intention was to change the subject and ease the atmosphere.

Unexpectedly, when they looked over, the three of them indeed saw Fang Jiashu standing by the entrance of the set waving at them and shouting, “Director Jiang, pause the shooting for now—the producer and investors are here!”