TF01 74

Mao Yu had claimed he’d spent a month trying to get in touch with Ying Ming and never succeeded. Almost no one believed it, including Shi Yi. If someone truly wanted to find a person, they would find a way. If he had actually wanted to talk, he would’ve shown up at the door long before now.

Shi Yi had to be at the company the next day and left early in the morning. Around ten, a steady, relentless knock started at the door downstairs. Ying Ming had no choice but to drag himself out of bed, groggy and half-awake.

After the way Shi Yi had worn him out the night before, he was still seeing double.

He opened the door, and didn’t expect to see Mao Yu standing there.

Still fogged with sleep and irritation, Ying Ming only froze for a second. Then his brows pulled together.

“What do you want? It’s barely morning.”

He hadn’t been completely unprepared for Mao Yu to show up, just didn’t expect it to be this soon.

After all these years, Mao Yu didn’t seem to have changed much. Ying Ming remembered him always looking like he had things under control, even when he clearly didn’t. He always kept that same stubborn, self-assured air. At first glance, it was a little like Shi Yi. Confident to the point of arrogance.

There wasn’t the slightest hint of guilt on him for disturbing someone’s sleep. He smiled.

“I heard from your friend you still live in the warehouse we bought together. Thought I’d try my luck. Didn’t expect to actually find it.”

That we bought together carried a pointed edge. Ying Ming raised his eyebrows faintly, but didn’t respond. His eyes shifted away without comment.

He had no intention of letting Mao Yu in. But the man didn’t look like he was planning to leave either.

In the end, it was Mao Yu who backed down. He lifted his shoulders slightly. “How about a drink somewhere?”

Ying Ming looked at him. “I’m not interested.”

The flat rejection caught Mao Yu off guard. He stared at Ying Ming’s unreadable expression, something complicated crossing his face. “There are some things I’d really like to explain. You really don’t want to hear any of it?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a check. “This covers your share of the bar, plus the money you lent me later. If you really don’t want to talk, then at least take the money.”

Ying Ming glanced at the check but didn’t reach for it. Something flickered in his eyes, then settled back into calm. He gave a faint smile. “Keep it. I invested it, and I already counted it as a loss.”

“You’re not even taking back the money you lent me?”

“That money was given to a friend.” He looked at Mao Yu again. “But since we’re no longer friends, getting it back doesn’t really mean anything.”

Without waiting to see how Mao Yu reacted, Ying Ming closed the door. On the coffee table, Shi Yi had left a note telling him to text when he woke up. He glanced at it and set it aside, planning to eat something before going back to sleep.

Smoke Ring must have picked up on his mood. The cat brushed lightly against his feet. Ying Ming looked down, picked it up, and set it on the couch. He lit a cigarette and held it between his lips. “Your real owner came back. What do you think? Want to go home?”

No sooner had he spoken than Smoke Ring let out a loud yowl. Ying Ming chuckled, even knowing full well the cat didn’t understand a word. “Good instincts.”

Mao Yu had once dropped the cat off under the excuse of moving apartments, then vanished without a trace.

Thinking about how badly Shi Yi and the cat got along, Ying Ming figured it was better not to tell him who the cat originally belonged to. Otherwise, one of these days Shi Yi really might throw it out onto the street.

Some origins were better left unspoken.

It was nearly five by the time Shi Yi finally got a call from Ying Ming.

He had just come out of a meeting and returned to his office. His phone vibrated twice. Seeing the name on the screen, he answered.

“Don’t tell me you actually slept straight through till now.”

The voice on the other end was thick with post-nap laziness. “I ate lunch somewhere in the middle. Smoked two cigarettes.”

“I told you to call me when you woke up.”

“Eating doesn’t mean I was awake. And anyway, the note was yours. I never signed off on it.”

Ying Ming took another drag and leaned back against the bed. The blankets were wrapped around him, his whole body sunk into the mattress. Ever since Shi Yi had moved in, the single bed had been forcibly swapped out for a double. Though to be precise, it probably wasn’t a standard double. It was even wider. Putting it together had been a bit of a hassle, but Shi Yi had insisted. He liked everything oversized. Beds, couches, whatever it was, it had to be comfortable.

Shi Yi never compromised on comfort. That was his approach to life.

He ignored the faint provocation in Ying Ming’s tone and glanced at the sky outside. “Well, it’s late. Come on, Young Master Ying, get up already. What do you want for dinner? Should I bring something back or are you coming out?”

“Whatever.”

“If it’s about whether or not you’re leaving the house, then ‘whatever’ doesn’t help me.” Shi Yi frowned. “What’s with you today? You sound half dead. Something happen?”

“Nothing. Just missed you, that’s all.”

The answer was crisp and left no room for questioning. It neatly shut down Shi Yi’s suspicion. Ying Ming didn’t want him digging any further. As far as Mao Yu was concerned, he’d never intended to keep it from Shi Yi, but that didn’t mean he felt like talking about it. It was a mess from the past. Bringing it up only irritated both of them. The best option was to act like it never happened.

Shi Yi seemed to catch on. He frowned slightly but didn’t press. In the end, they agreed Ying Ming wasn’t in the mood to go out, so Shi Yi would just pick something up on the way home. But the traffic jad held him up and by the time he finally got there, it was close to eight. Ying Ming opened the door with a face full of irritation.

“You trying to starve me to death?”

That phone call at five, and now it was eight. For all he knew, Shi Yi had gone to the Arctic to pick up dinner.

Shi Yi handed over the takeout containers without much ceremony. Ying Ming ran a hand through his messy hair. “It’s fine if you don’t say anything, but the second I think about food, I’m starving.”

“Didn’t know you were capable of being hungry.”

Shi Yi took off his coat. As far as he could remember, Ying Ming’s attitude toward food had always been strictly functional. Eat to survive, nothing more. If they ever invented pills that could replace meals, Ying Ming would probably pop one every morning.

From the table, Ying Ming looked up at him. “I’m not a machine. Of course I get hungry.”

By the time Shi Yi sat down, half of Ying Ming’s rice was already gone, the rest being demolished at an alarming pace. Shi Yi raised an eyebrow. “This whole beast-mode thing you’ve got going right now is kind of sexy.”

“Not as beastly as you.”

Especially once things got physical, he came off as completely tame next to Shi Yi.

Last night had nearly driven him to grab the bedside lamp and bash someone with it. Ying Ming figured that if Shi Yi ever ended up dying in a man’s bed from being too enthusiastic, his family probably wouldn’t bother looking into it too much.

Spending the entire day half-asleep hadn’t been for no reason. The man sitting across from him now bore most of the responsibility.

Picking up on the edge in Ying Ming’s tone, Shi Yi responded with an exaggerated grin. Any man would feel a certain smug satisfaction when his partner was still snappish from the night before. And someone like Ying Ming, who rarely let himself unravel, only made it more gratifying. With that mindset, Shi Yi hadn’t even complained later when Ying Ming kicked him off the couch to clean up the mess.

It wasn’t until both of them had settled on the sofa to watch TV that Ying Ming brought it up.

“I might be heading into a shoot next month. You’ll have to decide if you’re going back to your place or staying here.”

“New movie?”

“Yeah. My agent called this afternoon. If the audition goes well next week, the contract’s set.”

Between Mao Yu in the morning and that phone call in the afternoon, his rare lazy day had turned out far from restful.

Shi Yi looked curious. “What kind of film?”

“Not sure yet. Probably still working on the script. The director’s decent though. Feels worth a shot.”

“Do you know what role you’re up for?”

“Supporting, most likely. I don’t even know how big the cast is.”

Ying Ming lit a cigarette and sat curled in the corner of the couch, knees pulled in. It was a habit from childhood, something he never managed to outgrow.

Shi Yi glanced over. “Do you have any standards when it comes to picking a film?”

“Hm?”

Ying Ming turned his head, cigarette between his lips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, are you planning to stick with this whole supporting-role, male-male dynamic for all your films from now on?”

Back when they were just friends, Shi Yi had no right to interfere in Ying Ming’s work. But now that their relationship had changed, it felt natural to bring up things he hadn’t been able to ask before.

He hadn’t forgotten how many times Ying Ming got thrown around during that first set visit. If every project from now on followed that pattern, Shi Yi had no doubt he’d lose it sooner or later.

Ying Ming got what he meant. He frowned and looked at Shi Yi for a while, trying to figure out whether the question was casual or if Shi Yi really meant to have a conversation about his career. It took a long time before he finally let out a slow breath and turned back to the TV.

“Actors don’t get to choose what they want to play. Most of the time, it’s just a matter of what you can get. Lead or supporting, it’s never really up to just one or two people.”

Even if the director pitched the role as the lead in the beginning, the final product could turn out completely different.

People always said that in sports, you never knew who would win until the very end. But in film, you didn’t even know what version you’d end up with until the movie actually came out. The script looked one way when it landed in your hands. Shooting it made it into something else. And once it went through post-production, it could turn into something else entirely. He’d had entire projects where he didn’t even show up in the final cut after weeks of filming.

After so many years, he had learned not to expect anything.

Shi Yi didn’t quite understand how all that worked. He took a sip of his coffee and said, “Even if you can’t make the final call, you still need a direction. If something good comes along, maybe I can help.”

That finally got a reaction from Ying Ming.

He bit down on his cigarette and tilted his head with a laugh. “What’s that supposed to mean? You planning to sleep me into roles?”

Coming from someone who always said he hated backroom deals, Shi Yi saying something like that was genuinely surprising.

Even back when he was with Liu Li, from what Ying Ming had heard, Shi Yi never played dirty. Maybe it was just how he was. Shi Yi had never wanted to get too tangled up in this industry. Apart from dealing with the media, he rarely stepped in. In both life and work, he kept a clear distance from the entertainment world.

Shi Yi just raised an eyebrow. “Well, would you let me?”

“I’m expensive.”

Ying Ming took another drag, eyes narrowing a little. “You couldn’t afford me.”