TSBDRA 40: He was Already Moved From the Very First Glance

Yan Yushan’s slight change in expression went unnoticed by the others.

Director Cheng cheerfully patted Xu Xishuang on the shoulder and told the rest of the cast to continue reading the next lines.

Xu Xishuang looked down at the part he had just read. In the following scenes, Xiao He, deceived by Chen Muzhou, falls blindly in love with him. During their time together, Chen Muzhou gradually instills extreme ideas in her, making her emotionally dependent on him. Through her, he gains control over her father, manipulating the gangster to steal for him.

Chen Muzhou was smart. Xiao He’s father initially saw him as nothing more than a scumbag deceiving his daughter and was extremely hostile. But after following Chen Muzhou’s plans to steal and never getting caught, he started to reap the rewards and slowly came to trust him fully.

When the time was right, Chen Muzhou instructed Xiao He’s father to provoke a gang war with a rival faction. He was injured in the clash and called Chen Muzhou for help but the one who answered was Xiao He. She rushed to the scene and died in the alley alongside her father.

Chen Muzhou then feigned grief and gradually took over Xiao He’s father’s gang. He started pulling other gangs to his side, using the information he had gathered to blackmail those with secrets they didn’t want exposed. Bit by bit, he expanded his network and began ordering his subordinates to rob, kill, smuggle…

Chen Muzhou was pure evil. In comparison, Yan Zheng’s character seemed a little one-dimensional—a typical handsome, competent, tragic hero. Both his father and mentor died in the line of duty while chasing criminals, strengthening his resolve to be a good cop.

Yan Zheng was smart but not bossy. He often joked around with his colleagues to keep the mood light—on the surface, he seemed careless and lazy, but in truth, he was steady, composed, and impressively skilled

As Xu Xishuang listened to the flirty banter between Yan Yushan’s Yan Zheng and Yan Yao’s Lu Qingyu, his thoughts wandered a little.

In the original novel, there was no mention of this show, and he didn’t know how far its reach would be. But Xu Xishuang believed that if they all gave solid performances, even if the show didn’t explode in popularity, it would at least gain some attention.

After all, in the original book, Yan Yushan wasn’t part of this show. Now he was the lead actor and with his star power, there was no way it would flop.

According to the original timeline, Yan Yushan should currently be with a different production—a period drama slated to air on primetime TV, the one where Chi Siyuan was playing the second male lead.

Maybe that was where things had started heating up between Yan Yushan and Chi Siyuan…

“Xiao Xu.”

Director Cheng’s voice pulled Xu Xishuang back from his thoughts. He blinked and looked over.

“You’ve never worked with Yan Yushan before, right?” Director Cheng thought for a moment. “Oh, wait—you did one film together, but back then, Xiao Yan was the director. As actors, you two haven’t collaborated, have you?”

Xu Xishuang replied, “No.”

Director Cheng leaned closer and said in a low voice, “I worked with Xiao Yan once before, back when I was an assistant director. When he acts, he never holds back. Most people who act opposite him for the first time can’t handle it—they get overwhelmed and need several takes. And when that happens, he’ll scold them for being unprofessional. He’s got a bad temper. Quite a few of those… you know, idols-turned-actors—he’s chewed them out. None of them want to work with him again.”

Yan Yushan’s voice came from the side. “Director Cheng, I’m right here. Talking bad about me to my face—isn’t that a bit much?”

Director Cheng looked embarrassed. “I’m just telling the truth. I’m giving Xiao Xu a mental heads-up in case you go off on him when you act together.”

Yan Yushan said helplessly, “Director Cheng, Xu Xishuang is my friend. I wouldn’t scold him.”

As if he ever could. He barely had enough time to pamper him.

Of course, that wasn’t something he could say out loud in front of everyone—he could only think it.

He looked at Xu Xishuang, not realizing how intense his gaze had become.

Xu Xishuang met his eyes for a second before looking away and turning to Director Cheng with a smile. “Director Cheng, I’m not bad at acting either, right? Who ends up NG-ing more—we’ll see.”

He tossed a glance at Yan Yushan as he said it.

Usually, when Xu Xishuang smiled, the corners of his eyes lifted slightly, giving him a faintly seductive aura. But right now, that hint of charm was overtaken by sudden competitiveness, turning into a prideful defiance.

Yan Yushan felt like his heart had been skipping way too many beats tonight.

He couldn’t look away. At that moment, he was absolutely certain of his feelings for Xu Xishuang. Maybe he had already fallen for him from the very first moment they met—otherwise, that night, he wouldn’t have lost control. All the time spent together since had only deepened that spark, turning it into a love he could no longer suppress.

Hearing Xu Xishuang’s remark, the others were a little surprised. It was their first time seeing someone dare to challenge Yan Yushan’s authority in a crew. Since the two of them seemed close, the rest started goading them, wanting to see a face-off—who would outshine whom?

Director Cheng waved everyone quiet, flipped through the stack of scripts in front of him, and casually pulled out a scene. “Since everyone wants to see it, let’s try this one.”

Xu Xishuang looked at the page Director Cheng pointed to and saw it was the scene where Chen Muzhou and Yan Zheng first meet.

This scene was a flashback that came later in the series. Earlier in the story, Yan Zheng had seen Chen Muzhou a few times and always thought he looked familiar. The current Chen Muzhou—calm, polite—was too different from the frightened and pitiful version he remembered. He couldn’t figure out where he’d seen him before.

It wasn’t until Yan Zheng began to suspect Chen Muzhou and started investigating his past that he finally recalled—this wasn’t their first meeting.

It happened years ago. Chen Muzhou had manipulated Xiao He and her father into death, his first time killing through others. He was brought to the police station as someone involved in the case.

Facing the questioning officers, Chen Muzhou showed no guilt. His performance was flawless. He left no evidence to raise suspicion, so the veteran officer—and the new recruit Yan Zheng, observing beside him—let the underage student go.

The old officer, wanting to train the rookie Yan Zheng, let him take over the questioning.

Yan Yushan glanced over the lines, set down the script, and looked at Xu Xishuang.

His whole demeanor shifted—now he was Yan Zheng. Though it was his first interrogation, he showed no fear, like he was born for the job.

He held a pen in his right hand and tapped the desk lightly with the back end. “Name.”

Xu Xishuang, now the version of Chen Muzhou pretending to be a clueless student, looked nervous and scared. His voice trembled, “Chen… Chen Muzhou.”

According to the script, Chen Muzhou’s hairstyle at that time was slightly different from now. He had been caught in the rain on his way to the station, soaking wet, hair dripping down over his eyes. He looked completely harmless and pathetic.

Yan Yushan continued, “What was your relationship with the deceased?”

Xu Xishuang spoke even softer, his voice edged with tears, “Xiao He and I were classmates… We—we were dating.”

“Underage relationship?” Yan Yushan raised a brow. “Not good, kid.”

Xu Xishuang muttered, “Mm… yeah…”

In the script, Yan Zheng noticed the scars on Chen Muzhou’s arms—some fresh, some old. It matched the intel they’d gathered. Chen Muzhou was bullied at school and never fought back. He was cowardly and meek. Xiao He had been the one to protect him.

Both Xiao He and her father’s deaths had already been ruled as accidents and collateral damage from gang infighting. There was no need for further investigation. From every angle, Chen Muzhou had neither the motive nor the means to harm them.

But formalities were formalities, and questions had to be asked.

Yan Yushan pressed, “Why was it Xiao He who answered the call made to you?”

This was the one unclear detail in the case.

“Because…” Xu Xishuang paused, trying to suppress his fear and sorrow. “Because Xiao He was with me. She saw the caller ID… Her dad hated me. She thought he was calling to yell at me, so she snatched my phone and picked up. Then she didn’t say anything—just ran out. I—I don’t know what they talked about…”

Yan Yushan tapped the pen again. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Xu Xishuang replied.

And so, Chen Muzhou waited quietly in the room—for his plan to take effect, for the police to inform him that Xiao He and her father were dead, and to bring him in for questioning.

Everything went according to plan. Every step was under his control.

In the end, as expected, he left the station without suspicion. He was completely disconnected from the case.

Yan Yushan set down his pen. “Alright, you’re free to go.”

Xu Xishuang nodded blankly. “Okay. I… I’m leaving.”

In the story, Chen Muzhou had now lost two of the most important people in his life—his father, and Xiao He, the girl who had loved and protected him. There was a flicker of pity in Yan Yushan’s eyes. He softened his tone, “You’ll get through this. Don’t be too sad.”

Xu Xishuang nodded again, still in a daze, like he hadn’t even heard him.

As he got up, he nearly tripped on the chair—completely overwhelmed and disoriented. Following the script, before he left, he even asked the police to let him see Xiao He’s body, though they denied the request because she had already been moved.

On his way out of the station, he brushed past Yan Zheng, who had just returned from buying water.

The moment Chen Muzhou stepped out, the grief and confusion on his face vanished, replaced by cold disdain. He curled his lips into a sneer, mocking the cop who had just questioned him.

Yan Zheng, meanwhile, had no idea that the timid-looking boy he had just interviewed saw him as a fool. He was still riding high from his first successful solo interrogation.

One walked out into the dark, icy rain. The other into a bright, warm break room. Two divergent paths. Two contrasting personalities. Two completely different lives.

That was their first meeting. Yan Zheng was climbing toward the light and Chen Muzhou was already sinking deeper into the dark.

In the years that followed, as Chen Muzhou coerced more and more people into crime, Yan Zheng continued solving case after case with perfect precision.

The reading ended. Yan Yushan looked at Xu Xishuang, and a sudden thought crossed his mind. If Yan Zheng had remembered earlier that they had met, if he had suspected Chen Muzhou sooner, maybe he could’ve stopped the chain of tragedies. Maybe he could’ve brought Chen Muzhou to justice before it was too late.

…If he himself had met Xu Xishuang sooner, maybe Xu Xishuang would’ve gone to Dr. Xu earlier, maybe he would’ve gotten better sooner. Maybe he could’ve become friends with him before Chi Siyuan did. During breaks on set, he could’ve called him, shared funny stories, told him how tired he was, and let Xu Xishuang worry about him.

Even if they only ever became friends, that would still be better than this ambiguous, uncertain, stuck-in-place relationship they had now.

“Great work,” Director Cheng commented fairly. “It’s evenly matched. Neither of you overshadowed the other. Everyone else—take note. Don’t drag down our two leads when we start shooting.”

The others nodded, and the reading continued.

As the rest of the cast read their lines, Xu Xishuang relaxed a little and started getting sleepy.

It was already 10:30 p.m. Normally, he would’ve been in bed by now. Let alone the emotional energy he had just spent on two heavy scenes—he was exhausted. Quietly, he lifted the script to cover half his face and stifled a yawn.

Yan Yushan, still watching him closely, noticed the signs. He knew Xu Xishuang usually slept around this time. He set his script down and leaned toward Director Cheng. “Director Cheng, let’s wrap for tonight. I’m feeling a bit tired.”

Director Cheng turned, eyeing him curiously.

Tired? Since when did Yan Yushan get tired? Wasn’t this the same man who once filmed three nights in a row without collapsing? It was only 10:30.

Since the lead actor—and the biggest investor—had spoken, Director Cheng couldn’t really refuse. He called it for the night and told everyone to rest up and continue tomorrow.