Chapter 38 – The Final Time

In late December, the TV series “Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain” premiered simultaneously on satellite TV and video platforms, with the first episode achieving impressive ratings right off the bat. The official Weibo account released high-definition stills to celebrate and tagged several main actors.

Xiao Shen sent his congratulations early in the morning, asking Jiang Ruo if he wanted to personally log onto Weibo to see. His fan count and topic page followers were skyrocketing by the second, outpacing even the male and female leads.

Jiang Ruo’s attention was primarily because of a GIF, showing him with hair reaching his waist, dressed in billowing white robes, turning around gracefully as the camera zoomed in, smiling gently.

A clip from the trailer, uploaded by someone unknown, had been picked up and forwarded by passersby and marketing accounts, and within half a day, Jiang Ruo had been crowned “the most beautiful person in traditional costume,” accompanied by descriptions such as “a beauty like a painting,” “unearthly beauty,” and “this is what ‘a smile can enchant all living things’ truly means.”

It was so exaggerated it was almost unbelievable. Jiang Ruo clicked through the comments and found new fans spouting all sorts of crude remarks, like “Should I call you husband or wife?” “Suddenly I have a son and a daughter overnight.” “I’m completely blown away”… Jiang Ruo felt even more embarrassed.

Having been subjected to countless envious and jealous gazes throughout his life, Jiang Ruo didn’t consider himself someone who was unaware of his own beauty. But facing such widespread praise for the first time, he couldn’t help feeling nervous, fearing that this might be a prelude to a fall from grace.

Fortunately, besides his looks, his performance in the drama was also commendable. Although his screen time was limited in the first two episodes, he held his own when acting alongside several classically trained actors, not only avoiding being a liability but even shining in some scenes.

Jiang Ruo clicked into the super topic, where the scene was bustling. Several familiar old fans had changed their avatars to pictures of the second male lead from “Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain.” Whenever a newcomer posted an introduction, they would rush over to direct them to the pinned post at the top, which contained Jiang Ruo’s personal information, details about the dramas he had starred in, and some highlight clips.

From this, Jiang Ruo learned a new term — pushing someone’s head down to make them eat something (a metaphor for forcing someone to accept something enthusiastically).

When meeting Zheng Yiting, Jiang Ruo asked about the GIF first. “That GIF — ”

“It wasn’t the work of our marketing department,” Zheng Yiting said, putting down the documents in her hand. “Our promotional activities are scheduled for after the third episode airs, in coordination with the production team. However, the positive effect of that GIF has been great, so we’ve added another wave while the heat is still there.”

Jiang Ruo didn’t understand these capitalistic operations, only finding the whole situation unexpectedly fortuitous.

To this, Zheng Yiting commented, “There are plenty of such cases where unintended actions yield unexpected results. That’s why they say, ‘small success comes from grooming, big success relies on fate.’ Sometimes it’s not a lack of ability, it’s just missing that opportune moment, so in this circle, you have to maintain a level head. Being too profit-driven can often have the opposite effect.”

Jiang Ruo asked, “Am I considered overly profit-driven?”

“It’s alright, you have an artist’s mentality. Compared to external possessions, you seek recognition and praise more.”

“But I do care quite a bit about external things.”

“In that case, you should drop that art film early. The pay is too low, it’s not worth your time compared to shooting a couple of episodes of a TV series.”

“No way, Sister Zheng, I’ve reconsidered. I need to pursue both fame and fortune, striving for both.”

Zheng Yiting laughed.

This meeting was mainly for contract signing.

Jiang Ruo’s audition had been successful — a literary film directed by a Chinese expatriate. The subject matter was rather niche, making it unlikely to be screened domestically, but Zheng Yiting suggested using this film to aim for awards overseas, adding a layer of gold to his acting career.

Jiang Ruo hadn’t thought that far ahead; he simply liked the character and wanted to portray him well.

He heard that Xi Yufeng hadn’t helped with this audition and was somewhat skeptical. “You’re not trying to cheer me up, are you?”

“What’s the point?” Zheng Yiting said as she flipped through the files. “You’ve met the director, he’s so dedicated to his art. Buying a role is absolutely impossible in his team.”

Relieved, Jiang Ruo chuckled. “Now that’s a true artist.”

After discussing the film, they moved on to variety shows.

When asked about his thoughts on Chen Muxin’s invitation, Jiang Ruo was again at a loss.

“I personally recommend going,” said Zheng Yiting. “First, ‘Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain’ is airing, and having a variety show as part of the promotional efforts makes sense. Second, Chen Muxin has a good image and high popularity. He’s already extending his leg for you to grab, why not take advantage of it?”

Jiang Ruo understood the logic, but he couldn’t reveal to others the awkward situation regarding Chen Muxin’s pursuit of him and Xi Yufeng’s knowledge of it.

Jiang Ruo asked, “Is the deadline for their response the end of this month?”

“Yes.”

“Let me think about it for two more days.”

Zheng Yiting agreed.

Later, they talked about the previous kidnapping incident. Zheng Yiting mentioned that she had only cooperated with the police for investigation and hadn’t been treated as a suspect.

Still, Jiang Ruo felt apologetic. “You must have been scared, Sister Zheng.”

Zheng Yiting said, “Indeed, if something happened to you, my dream of becoming a top agent would be shattered.”

Jiang Ruo laughed. “Sister Zheng has several others under her wing, losing one wouldn’t make much difference.”

As if reminded of something, after signing the contract, Zheng Yiting said seriously, “Although it’s premature, I still want to ask you. If… I mean, hypothetically, in the future, you and President Xi go separate ways, do you have any intention of continuing our agency contract?”

Hearing the phrase “go separate ways,” Jiang Ruo’s heart sank abruptly.

It seemed everyone knew that the two of them wouldn’t last, and the sword hanging over his head was slowly descending inch by inch.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Jiang Ruo tried to remain calm as he spoke. “Before answering this question, I want to know if my relationship with President Xi affects the agency contract?”

“At first, yes, now no,” Zheng Yiting replied frankly. “Your acting career has taken off, and you’ve already brought profits to the company. Even if we continue to invest resources in you in the future, the returns will far outweigh the investment. President Xi, as an investor, doesn’t directly interfere with operations, so these are two separate matters that don’t affect each other.”

Jiang Ruo nodded. “So, even if we break up, we can still maintain cooperation.”

“Of course.”

“So why not continue?” Jiang Ruo leaned back, exhaling. “Meeting an excellent agent like Sister Zheng is my good luck, and I believe I’m hardworking enough to deserve this luck.”

And life must go on.

At the end of the year, Xi Yufeng was busier than usual. After the recent turmoil with Xi Wangchen had settled, he was spinning like a top nonstop, with more business dinners and social engagements. Several times he came home drunk, too tired to shower before collapsing into bed.

Their communication decreased, which was actually a relief for Jiang Ruo.

He wanted to quietly stay by his side and spend the remaining time they had together.

On the eve of Christmas, an in-city delivery arrived — it was the bottle of wine Jiang Ruo had ordered at the beginning of last month.

The glass bottle was transparent, the liquid inside a clear amber color, housed in a custom-made camphorwood box. The winery had provided a silk ribbon, which Jiang Ruo used to tie a bow around the box, giving it a festive gift-like appearance.

But gifts like that existed only between people in intimate relationships akin to lovers.

His fingers brushed against a row of inconspicuous letters at the bottom of the bottle, causing Jiang Ruo to chuckle wryly.

How naive he had been then, daring to fantasize that perhaps Xi Yufeng harbored similar feelings.

That evening, Jiang Ruo received a phone call from Xi Yufeng, asking him about his plans for the night.

Jiang Ruo said, “Eating, sleeping… waiting for you to come back.”

Xi Yufeng laughed on the other end of the line. “I heard you received a gift from the sponsor today?”

“Mm,” Jiang Ruo was sitting on the sofa, looking at the paper bag beside him. “A suit, casual style.”

“Wear it and come out.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t leave here,” Xi Yufeng said. “I want to have dinner with you.”

Jiang Ruo could never resist Xi Yufeng, especially when he used the word “want,” as if expressing a holiday wish.

Putting on the new clothes, he checked himself in the mirror repeatedly to ensure he looked presentable. As he walked into the living room, Jiang Ruo glanced at the wine on the table and decided to bring it along.

In that kind of champagne-and-caviar social scene, no one would notice whether he was offering a bottle of wine or a piece of his heart.

Arriving at Jin Garden, guided by the waiter into the private room, he was greeted not by boisterous noise, but by soft jazz music. Jiang Ruo realized this was a small-scale social gathering with few participants.

Xi Yufeng sat lazily on the sofa in the corner, waving his hand upon seeing Jiang Ruo enter.

Those around him made space, allowing Jiang Ruo to sit next to Xi Yufeng.

The suit was tailor-made, accentuating Jiang Ruo’s slim waist and long legs. Its silver-gray color complemented Xi Yufeng’s dark gray attire perfectly.

Pretending not to notice the appreciation in Xi Yufeng’s eyes, Jiang Ruo handed over the bottle of wine.

Xi Yufeng raised an eyebrow. “For me?”

“Mm.”

“Aunt Fang doesn’t let me drink, you know?”

“It’s a holiday today.”

Perhaps considering celebrating Christmas a childish habit, Xi Yufeng took the wine, barely glancing at it before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. Instead, he asked Jiang Ruo, “What do you want to order?”

Following the wine with his gaze, Jiang Ruo said, “Let me think.”

“Take your time,” said Xi Yufeng, leaning close to whisper in his ear. “You look stunning today.”

The mix of cigarette scent and breath brushed against his cheek, which should have felt cool, but Jiang Ruo felt a burning sensation.

Once the others stepped away, Jiang Ruo said, “I’ve got an idea.”

Xi Yufeng gave him an inquiring look.

“I want to go home early tonight,” Jiang Ruo said with a smile. “With you.”

But some wishes, seemingly simple, proved difficult to realize.

Not long after Jiang Ruo sat down, someone approached with a wineglass, eager to chat.

The conversation was filled with typical pleasantries — big star, fine figure, promising future. However, the recent popularity of “Sun and Moon of Jing Mountain” had clearly increased Jiang Ruo’s visibility. Among the girls accompanying the young masters present, several had seen the drama and even timidly approached him for autographs.

Jiang Ruo had no reason to refuse, asking a waiter for a pen and signing his name on napkins bearing the Jin Garden logo.

During this time, a girl took advantage of Xi Yufeng’s conversation with someone else to ask softly, “How did you meet Young Master Xi?”

This wasn’t the first time Jiang Ruo had attended such an event, and he roughly understood Xi Yufeng’s status among these people. Generally, to approach someone of this level, most needed the introduction of those below them, the men accompanying these girls, to stand a chance.

It was almost like the emperor choosing his concubines. Jiang Ruo found it amusing but didn’t show it on his face. Instead, he half-jokingly said, “We met in bed.”

The two girls exchanged a glance, as if saying — see, it’s exactly as we thought.

Then they asked, “I heard you don’t get along well with Young Master Xi. Is that true?”

Presumably, they had heard rumors of his favoritism and arrogance. Jiang Ruo countered, “What do you think?”

The girl smiled awkwardly. “I think you two seem pretty close.”

She didn’t forget to make herself seem friendly. “I heard actors get really busy with filming. Next time, why don’t we — ”

“There won’t be a next time,” said Jiang Ruo, handing over the signed napkin, his expression and tone as calm as ever. “This is the last time I’ll be coming here with him.”

Jiang Ruo had originally thought that even if he detested such events and hated the nature of their relationship, he could rely on his acting skills to maintain a facade of propriety until the end.

But he had overestimated himself.

After a few rounds of drinks, when the waiter knocked on the door to say that Meng Lan from the adjacent room wanted to join their table to celebrate Christmas Eve together, Jiang Ruo’s hand involuntarily tightened.

Clearly, Xi Yufeng hadn’t known Meng Lan was next door. Facing the teasing and suggestive gazes of those around him, he frowned and said, “There are too many people here, it’s not convenient.”

Within five minutes, the waiter returned, saying, “Miss Meng Lan says it’s her birthday today. Because she can’t join us, she wants to ask Mr. Xi for something.”

Xi Yufeng asked what it was, and the waiter replied, “A bottle of wine in a wooden box.”

Almost immediately, Jiang Ruo looked at the wine on the coffee table.

Inside the wooden box, besides the wine, lay his impractical fantasies and the courage he had secretly harbored.

The word “no” was on the tip of his tongue, but he heard Xi Yufeng casually say, “Give it to her then.”

“And send her my best wishes for her birthday. I’ll choose a proper gift and deliver it later.”