TF01 30

Shi Yi’s comment about fairness was met with nothing more than Ying Ming biting down on his cigarette with a faint smile. “There’s no such thing as real fairness in this world.”

That kind of thing was just an ideal, and even then, it was always relative.

Ying Ming slowly put some distance between them, straightening up as he took a couple of steps toward where they had parked. Then, he turned his head. “Hurry up, Young Master Shi!” Behind him, the other man raised a brow slightly before leisurely following along.

Once they got into the car, Shi Yi suddenly thought of something. “Liu Li’s birthday is next week. Come over and join us.”

Ying Ming frowned. “What day?”

“Thursday.”

“I might have an audition next week. Once you’ve set the time and place, send them to me. I’ll try to come if I can.”

Shi Yi lifted an eyebrow. “Got a new role?”

“Mm…”

His answer was hesitant. Truth be told, Ying Ming didn’t want Shi Yi to keep digging, but the more he didn’t want to talk about something, the more Shi Yi was guaranteed to ask. Sure enough, the man who had just started the car turned his head to look at him. “What kind of movie?”

“A literary film.”

“Literary?” Shi Yi mulled it over. “What kind of literary?”

Ying Ming smirked. “The ‘lit’ kind of lit. The ‘erary’ kind of erary.”

“Fuck off!” Shi Yi knew right away he didn’t want to talk about it. He shot him a glare but didn’t push further. Sooner or later, the media would report on it anyway.

—

On the day of the audition, Ying Ming arrived early.

Only part of the crew was there when he got in. A production assistant greeted him and led him to the makeup room. Not long after, the director arrived as well, giving him a nod. “How’s it going? Ready?”

“That depends on whether you’re satisfied or not.” Ying Ming chuckled. Since the makeup artist was working on him, he couldn’t move much.

“Whether I’m satisfied or not depends on what you deliver.”

Liao Xiren, the director, wasn’t actually that much older than Ying Ming, maybe a decade at most. The two of them had already discussed the script a few times before, and Liao had told him to just call him “Liao-ge.” While it was the producers who had initially recommended Ying Ming, after a few conversations, Liao himself found him pretty interesting. The role wasn’t a perfect fit for him, but he had enough range to pull it off.

Or rather, from the director’s perspective, there was hope that this could be Ying Ming’s second “Delinquent Young Master.”

A classic character and a great story weren’t just an actor’s pursuit. For a director, it was the same.

Liao Xi sat on the armrest of a chair, watching as the makeup artist enhanced Ying Ming’s youthful features, making them sharper and more mature. He couldn’t help but chuckle. “You know Wang Yiqi, right?”

“Yeah, we’re friends.”

“Haha, he was pretty excited when he found out he’d be working with you.”

Because of the film’s subject matter, Liao Xi’s tone carried a hint of amusement. Ying Ming was reminded of the message on his home answering machine and looked a little helpless. “We know each other too well. Honestly, it’s kind of awkward.”

“Familiarity makes it easier to play off each other. No need to build chemistry from scratch. That way, it looks more natural.” Liao Xi patted Ying Ming on the shoulder. “Besides, this will be the real test of your skills. If you two can act so well that the whole world thinks something’s going on between you, then you’ve done your job.”

Later, Liao Xi said the exact same thing to Wang Yiqi.

He arrived an hour later than Ying Ming because he had another event earlier. By the time he got there, Ying Ming had already finished hair and makeup and was dressed in costume. Liao Xi and two assistant directors were standing nearby, studying which look suited Ying Ming’s character best. Wang Yiqi shoved open the dressing room door and, at the sight of Ying Ming’s back, let out a whistle.

“Just from this angle alone, I think I’m in love with you…”

Everyone in the room turned to look. Ying Ming raised an eyebrow. “Your delivery is all wrong.”

Liao Xi laughed and stood up. “Alright, now that everyone’s here, Wang Yiqi, go get changed. We need some character stills.”

“Got it!” Wang Yiqi was a professional when it came to work. He tossed his things to his assistant without a second thought and went straight to the other makeup room.

The film’s setting revolved around the underground scenes of rock musicians, artists, and other marginalized groups teetering on the edge of mainstream society. It captured the chaos of dreams and art, filled with reckless passion, drug-induced haziness, and the blurred line between reality and delusion. Like walking on the ledge of a towering skyscraper—one step forward could lead to either paradise or hell.

This wasn’t a groundbreaking concept. Plenty of directors had explored it before.

What set Liao Xi apart was his perspective. He wasn’t interested in portraying the usual themes of downfall, despair, and struggle. Instead, he wanted to capture the quiet longing buried beneath all that confusion, the deep desire to be seen and understood, and the lingering traces of hope.

That was what had drawn Ying Ming to this project in the first place.

He tried on four different outfits, while Wang Yiqi went through six. In terms of character roles, Wang Yiqi’s was slightly more central. He was the film’s main focus and would also have a significant amount of voice-over narration later on.

The script was only partially completed. For now, both of them had received an outline and a few lines of dialogue while the full version was still being revised. Liao Xi planned to start filming over the weekend, wanting them to get into character as soon as possible. Many scenes required a collaborative approach to work out the best execution. Since the cast was relatively small and the entire film hinged on how well Ying Ming and Wang Yiqi handled their roles, Liao Xi hoped they would spend as much time together as possible. A story with a male-male romance was already a sensitive topic, and how they portrayed it convincingly would be a true test of their acting skills.

Both Ying Ming and Wang Yiqi had no objections.

“It would be best if you stuck together at all times, except when going to the bathroom,” the assistant director joked, his gaze carrying a teasing hint.

Wang Yiqi, striking a pose for the photographer, turned to glance at Ying Ming. “What about showering? Should we do that together too?”

Ying Ming raised an eyebrow. “Not like I haven’t seen it before.”

They had previously worked on a scene where Ying Ming was supposed to sneak in and kill Wang Yiqi while he was taking a shower.

Of course, he had failed.

Hearing this, Wang Yiqi suddenly recalled that collaboration and burst into laughter. “Last time, the moon was hazy, the lights were dim. I was worried you didn’t get a good look. This time, make sure to take your time. The closer you look, the better.”

Even the photographer at the set couldn’t help but chuckle. Ying Ming, ever composed, took a slow drag of his cigarette. “I know you enjoy being watched. If we have a bathroom scene, I will make sure to find you an audience.”

“It is not about the numbers. What matters is quality.”

“For you, quantity has always been the priority. After working with you, I understand you well.”

Their playful back-and-forth left Liao Xi very pleased. Most of the crew members were men, a deliberate choice to create an environment where everyone could fully immerse themselves in their roles.

The press conference was scheduled for the day after their looks were finalized. Everything was moving quickly. The production team had originally planned to keep a low profile, and Liao Xi had not intended to make a grand event out of it. However, the film’s investors seemed to have considerable influence. After some negotiation, the compromise was that they would skip issuing a press release, but they still had to hold a conference and invite a few media outlets to generate some buzz. After that, the filming process could remain discreet out of respect for Liao Xi’s wishes, while a professional PR company would handle all promotional efforts.

With that arrangement, both Ying Ming and Wang Yiqi attended the media event.

The press conference was attended by several major media outlets, all of whom had been briefed on the film’s content. Naturally, most of the questions revolved around their roles as a same-sex couple. Wang Yiqi answered them with ease, revealing just the right amount of teasing details to keep things interesting. Occasionally, he would lean in and whisper something in Ying Ming’s ear, a move clearly designed to give reporters something to run with.

Ying Ming, however, found his mind drifting as he stared into the cameras.

For some reason, he suddenly thought of Shi Yi.

The last time Shi Yi had asked him what kind of film he was working on, he had brushed it off without giving a clear answer. Now that the news was out, he wondered how Shi Yi would react.

Sensing his distraction, Wang Yiqi nudged him under the table. “Who are you daydreaming about? That expression of yours looks almost dreamy.”

“I’m wondering how your vocabulary has managed to remain so consistently vague after all these years.” Ying Ming shot him a sideways glance, quietly expressing his disdain.

The man beside him immediately furrowed his brows in protest. “Ying Ming, you’re definitely hiding something from me.”

“Yeah.”

Ying Ming turned his head slightly in the direction of the flashing cameras, smiling as he finished posing for photos. Only then did he glance back at Wang Yiqi and casually drop the bombshell.

“I forgot to tell you—your younger brother, Wang Mengqi, is coming back.”

The reporters asked them to stand up for a group photo with the director. Ying Ming stepped aside to make room for Wang Yiqi. The latter was momentarily stunned, his mind still processing Ying Ming’s words. Once he finally registered what had been said, he froze in shock.

“Are you serious?”

Ying Ming grinned. “Take a guess.”

That photo ended up becoming the highlight of the press conference.

Wang Yiqi was caught staring at Ying Ming’s profile with a conflicted expression, while Ying Ming faced the media with a cryptic smile, his expression layered with meaning.

With the recent rumors about their sexuality already making waves, what was supposed to be a relatively low-key event ended up generating quite a stir.

---

Shi Yi saw that photo in a magazine.

The headline was printed in bold, artistic lettering. Wang Yiqi and Ying Ming’s Love Declaration. A Bold Take on a High-Intensity Same-Sex Tragic Romance.

Beside him, Ou Yang was surprised to see him reading a tabloid filled with entertainment gossip, but Shi Yi remained silent, setting the magazine down and narrowing his eyes slightly.

So this was the film Ying Ming was working on.

Recalling how Ying Ming had deliberately avoided the topic when asked about it, Shi Yi frowned, clearly displeased.

Ou Yang watched from the side, silently wondering why Shi Yi’s expression looked so strange.