ASFSODS 95

Wen Chi was busy with makeup test shoots and script readings, and completely forgot about the final episode of Heart’s Confession 2.

The final episode was divided into two parts. The first three days were live-streamed and split into two episodes, while the following two days were set as special feature episodes, which required viewers to pay 3 yuan to watch.

The Weibo comment section was full of complaints, though mixed with a few different voices.

【This is way too greedy…】

【First time I’ve ever had to pay for a variety show. I’m done, never again.】

【Does the production team even see us as human???】

【All of you were saying only idiots would pay to watch a variety show, but damn, the moment I bought it, I saw tons of comments flying by—over 10k people watching.】

【Just curse first, don’t worry about the beauties.】

【I’ve been waiting a whole week, finally the special feature episodes for the last two days are here!】

【Why does it feel like ever since the show ended, Wen Chi hasn’t shown up in public at all?】

【Damn, I wouldn’t have even noticed if you didn’t mention it. I almost forgot that after Heart’s Confession 2 ended, we would never get to see Wen Chi on livestream again #cryinghard#】

【I really want to know if they still keep in touch in private after the show ended.】

【I don’t know about the others, but Jiang Siheng and Wen Chi definitely won’t. Jiang Ge went off to film, and Wen Chi has no proper reason to visit him on set.】

【HengWen is BE.】

Since there wasn’t any livestream for the last two days, the audience’s curiosity kept building. They really wanted to see what kind of “special feature” this so-called “special feature” would be.

…

“Wen Chi is really so cute.”

“Oh my god, is this even the same person? He looks totally different.”

“He’s seriously so cute.”

“A sweet puppy instantly turning into a little wolfdog—this contrast is just too adorable, I’m in love.”

A few of the female staff were standing in the corner, heads huddled together, whispering about something. They glanced at their phones for a while, then looked up toward the actors’ side.

Qin Minzhi noticed them, crossed her arms, and walked over. She asked, “What are you looking at?”

The staff member holding the phone immediately put it down, clasped their hands behind their back, and shook their head. “I wasn’t looking at anything.”

Qin Minzhi frowned at that, her tone very stern. “You all signed a contract. During the contract period, filming the crew or actors is strictly forbidden. If anything leaks, you’ll have to pay damages for breaching the agreement.”

“I know.” A girl pouted. “We were just watching a variety show, not taking photos or recording videos.”

Qin Minzhi shot them a glance and said, “Do your job properly, don’t slack off.”

The girl with the phone rubbed her nose. “Got it.”

Qin Minzhi went back to sit beside Director Xu. The current scene being filmed was where the male lead, ‘Sui Jieyu’, encounters his future companions, ‘Zhou Mian’ and ‘Wu Congyan’, in Senluo City, as well as the conflict between ‘Sui Jieyu’ and ‘Wen Weiyang’ on the street outside the tavern.

This episode contained a relatively important early plotline.

Wen Chi, playing ‘Wen Weiyang’, the Young Master, had delicate, strikingly beautiful features, rosy lips, and white teeth. Dressed in crimson robes that made his skin look even fairer, he was clearly someone born into a household overflowing with affection.

If he wanted a star, the Wen family would find a way to pluck one from the sky for him.

Xu Zhouwei’s ‘Zhou Mian’ and another professionally trained actor, Chen Li’s ‘Wu Congyan’, were both children from ordinary families.

The equipment was ready. Wen Chi stood by the second-floor window of the tavern, leaning out to look down. Jiang Siheng and two other actors were waiting below.

As if sensing something, Jiang Siheng suddenly lifted his head and looked up.

Wen Chi froze for a moment, then smiled and waved at him.

Director Xu raised the loudspeaker. “Alright, get ready.”

The two scenes—’Sui Jieyu meeting Zhou Mian and Wu Congyan for the first time’ and ‘Wen Weiyang sitting by the second-floor window of the tavern looking down’—needed to be shot from two different camera positions.

“Wen Chi, you get ready too.” The assistant director leaned out from behind the monitor, waving his notebook toward Wen Chi.

Wen Chi quickly pulled back his gaze. “Alright.”

…

Wen Weiyang was sitting upstairs by the window, legs crossed, cracking melon seeds as he listened in boredom to the storyteller on stage recounting tales of the martial world. Just as the storyteller was about to reach an exciting part, a commotion rose from downstairs.

Already in a foul mood because his elder brother had gone traveling without taking him along, Young Master Wen frowned in displeasure and waved a hand for a servant to check what was going on. The servant hurried off, then quickly returned to report, “Young Master, a few people downstairs have gotten into an argument.”

Wen Weiyang lifted his eyelids to glance at him. “And what’s the reason?”

The servant shook his head. “Not sure, Young Master. Seems to be over some young woman.”

Wen Weiyang let out a derisive laugh. “A beauty bringing trouble.”

Leaning over to look downstairs, he saw a group of five men and one woman surrounded by the crowd. The woman had fallen to the ground, her clothes soiled, her makeup and hair in disarray. Behind her stood two men—one older, one younger—whose shifty eyes and sly expressions alone marked them as unsavory and troublesome types.

The other three young men were all around twenty, each of them strikingly handsome. Even passersby who didn’t know the situation would, just by appearances alone, be inclined to side with those three.

From his spot on the second floor, Wen Weiyang could hear their quarrel clearly.

…

“Alright, cut!” Director Xu called out, pointing upstairs. “Cut up there too.”

Wen Chi blinked, then turned his head to the assistant director. “Director Xu said we should cut too.”

The assistant director lifted his chin in acknowledgment.

Then Wen Chi saw Director Xu walk over with the script to where Jiang Siheng and the other two were standing. Focusing mainly on Xu Zhouwei, he asked, “Do you even realize what kind of expression you just had?”

Xu Zhouwei was taken aback. “Isn’t the emotion for ‘Zhou Mian’ here supposed to be righteous indignation?”

“You understood it that way?” Director Xu shot back.

Being questioned like that made Xu Zhouwei suddenly doubt his own answer. Instinctively, he glanced to the side. The other extras followed his line of sight curiously but all they saw over there were members of the directing crew and no one knew who exactly he was looking at.

Realizing at once what he had just done, Xu Zhouwei quickly pulled his gaze back and hurriedly answered, almost by reflex, “Yes.”

Director Xu’s voice was calm: “That is the correct interpretation, but do you realize the expression you just made had nothing to do with it? Your gaze even carried an air of arrogance toward them. In the early part of the story, ‘Zhou Mian’ is just a child from an ordinary family—on what basis would he look at others with such haughtiness?”

Jiang Siheng stood off to the side holding a sword, silent, his expression cool and detached. Chen Li, on the other hand, frowned as he replayed his own emotions and expressions in his mind, checking whether he had made any mistakes.

Director Xu’s point was clearly about how the character ‘Zhou Mian’ should not be showing arrogance. Yet Xu Zhouwei’s face flushed hot with embarrassment. He stammered out awkwardly, “Sorry, Director Xu, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The assistant director drew his head back, then turned to Wen Chi, who had also been watching curiously, and said, “Kid, you did pretty well just now. Keep that state going.”

Wen Chi, embarrassed by the praise, rubbed his nose. “Alright.”

“Let’s continue.”

With Director Xu’s word, all the actors returned to their original positions and adjusted their emotions.

Wen Chi sat back down and curiously picked up one of the delicate little pastries on the table. “Can we eat these?”

The assistant director glanced at him and said, “Yeah, you can. They’re store-bought.”

Wen Chi’s eyes lit up. If he had known that earlier, he wouldn’t have pretended to sip only tea.

The previous scene passed in a single take, and only then did Xu Zhouwei finally let out a breath of relief. But right after, Director Xu said, “Get ready for the next one.”

Without a pause, Director Xu took a loudspeaker upstairs, waved for the assistant director to keep watch below, then walked over to Wen Chi and said, “Later, after Zhou Mian finishes his lines, deliver yours, then leap straight out the window. You’ve worn a harness before, right?”

Wen Chi nodded. “I have.”

“Good.” Director Xu tapped his shoulder with the rolled-up script. “Make sure the move looks sharp, don’t go making it look like some old grandpa trying to climb out.”

“Got it.”

The crew secured the harness on Wen Chi. Off-camera, Sangsang watched him anxiously. It was true Wen Chi had been strapped into a harness before, but it left his body covered in bruises everytime—ghastly ones at that. Still, this was work; no matter how much it hurt, Wen Chi had to grit his teeth and endure.

In the scene, after delivering his lines, Wen Chi was to leap out the second-floor window. Since Young Master Wen was meant to have some martial arts skill, Wen Chi’s landing had to be steady, and his expression had to stay perfectly in character.

Director Xu raised the loudspeaker and shouted down to the people below, “Get ready!”

Before Wen Chi turned back, he caught sight of Jiang Siheng watching him from the corner of his eye. But with so many people around paying attention and the shoot about to start, Wen Chi didn’t respond and simply turned back to sit down.

Director Xu stared fixedly at Wen Chi. When Wen Chi glanced his way, their eyes met unexpectedly. Wen Chi froze for a second before quickly looking away.

Ugh, he hated locking eyes with seniors the most.

Director Xu’s face remained expressionless.

…

Wen Weiyang leaned lazily against the windowsill, watching the people below with a careless air. His gaze lingered on Zhou Mian and Wu Congyan’s faces before he let out a mocking laugh. “I don’t get it, why are you all so sure it was him bullying the girl?”

From above came a clear, crisp voice of an unfamiliar youth. Everyone looked up, and their eyes were immediately drawn to the boy in red standing by the second-floor window.

With so many gazes on him, Wen Weiyang only curved his lips into a smile. Propping one hand on the windowsill, he leapt down—landing not so smoothly, in fact stumbling a step when he hit the ground.

…

Damn.

Wen Chi clenched his back teeth, then looked up at Director Xu. “Director, let me do it again.”

Director Xu didn’t say anything else, just nodded. “Come up.”

Wen Chi turned and walked back up to the second floor, completely ignoring everyone else’s expressions. He also failed to notice that when he stumbled just now, Jiang Siheng had instinctively taken a step forward, only to pause midway.

Director Xu looked at Wen Chi and said, “Take it slow, no need to rush.”

“Alright.”

Wen Chi walked to the window. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again with his expression adjusted, slipping back into the role of the carefree Young Master Wen. He repeated the line from just now.

…

Wen Weiyang leapt down, arms crossed, his brows and eyes carrying an air of arrogance as he looked at Sui Jieyu and the others. “Tell me, what makes you so sure it was them bullying her?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Wu Congyan pointed at the woman sitting on the ground, glaring at Wen Weiyang with clear displeasure at his condescending tone. “This young lady is clearly someone who was bullied and ran out here to ask for help.”

Among the onlookers, quite a few recognized the young man in red. They whispered quietly to their companions nearby:

“Isn’t that the Young Master of the Wen family?”

“Yeah, that’s Young Master Wen.”

“He’s really good-looking.”

“Shh, he doesn’t like people praising his looks. He’s the Wen family’s precious treasure—you’d better watch what you say.”

“Why doesn’t he like it?”

“How would I know?”

Wen Weiyang glanced at the person who had just called him good-looking, gave a soft snort, then withdrew his gaze and looked back at Wu Congyan. A faint smile tugged at his lips as he tilted his body slightly, crooking a finger at the two shifty-eyed men. “Up until now it’s only been her talking. I’ll give you a chance, why don’t you two explain what really happened?”

Sui Jieyu frowned slightly at Wen Weiyang’s expression and manner, which looked as if he were teasing a dog.

…

Director Xu stood behind the assistant director, watching the actors deliver their lines fluently. Their actions and emotions were spot on as well, which made him nod in satisfaction.

After a long while, Director Xu finally called, “Cut!” Aside from Jiang Siheng and Wen Chi, it was obvious from the others’ shoulders and necks that everyone relaxed at once.

Though Wen Chi didn’t show such a big reaction on the surface, he also let out a small breath of relief deep down.

Director Xu walked over, looking at them with great satisfaction. “That take was very good. Take five minutes, but keep your state steady.”

Xu Zhouwei gave a faint smile and nodded. “Alright, Director Xu.”

Director Xu glanced at Wen Chi’s foot and asked, “Did you twist your ankle just now?”

Wen Chi froze. He was about to try moving his foot when someone grabbed his arm.

Turning his head, he saw that at some point, Jiang Siheng had come to stand beside him, holding onto his arm.

Jiang Siheng asked, “Do you not want your foot anymore?”

“I do want it, but it doesn’t seem to hurt. Probably not a sprain,” Wen Chi said.

“Check it first before making that conclusion.”

Wen Chi had no choice but to move aside and sit down on a small stool he found. He had just claimed it didn’t hurt, but after only a few steps, a sharp pain flared in his ankle.

Sangsang ran over and crouched beside Wen Chi, anxiously watching him take off his shoes.

After removing both shoes and socks, Wen Chi placed his foot on top of a black boot. The pale skin and rounded toes drew attention instantly.

Jiang Siheng knelt on one knee in front of him. Seeing that Wen Chi’s ankle was circled with redness and showed faint signs of purple bruising, he immediately sent Sangsang to ask the assistant director for some medicinal alcohol.

Sangsang nodded and stepped aside, and soon her spot was taken by someone else.

Chen Li looked at Wen Chi’s foot with concern. “Are you okay? I saw you twist your ankle just now—I was really scared.”

Wen Chi simply smiled at everyone’s concern. “It’s fine, it just looks worse than it is.”

Chen Li nodded. “True, your skin’s even paler than any girl I’ve ever seen. It makes it look really serious.”

It was probably just an offhand remark from Chen Li, but Wen Chi clearly saw Jiang Siheng’s face darken. He opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and swallowed the words.

Beside them, Chen Li was still praising Wen Chi for bringing the character of ‘Wen Weiyang’ to life. “You’re really perfect for Wen Weiyang. When you jumped out of the second-floor window just now, you were especially cool and also… really good-looking.”

“Haha, really?” Wen Chi chuckled awkwardly in response to Chen Li, though his eyes kept sneaking glances at Jiang Siheng.

Yep, his boyfriend had already turned into an ice sculpture.