TSBDRA 6: You’re Shipping the Wrong Couple

By the end of that night’s hotpot dinner, Xu Xishuang had finally gotten his wish—he snuck a few slices of meat from the spicy broth. Before Xiao Wang could start nagging, he covered his ears and hurried back to his room, flopping down on the bed, ready for a night of joyful internet browsing.

He rolled over and spotted a short-sleeved shirt draped over the chair. It took him a few seconds to remember it was Yan Yushan’s.

After a brief pause, Xu Xishuang reluctantly got out of bed, tossed the shirt into the washing machine, and planned to hang it up to dry. With this kind of muggy weather, it should be ready to return by tomorrow.

Once the shirt was taken care of, he climbed back into bed, opened Weibo, and the first thing that popped up was a post from Yan Yushan. After a moment of thought, he casually shared it with a simple caption of his own: “Hi everyone, I’m Yu Xiang.”

After posting, he switched to his alt account and dove into the gossip. Refreshing his feed, he found that the Bitter Summer production team had already launched their official Weibo and posted a statement clarifying the trending photo from earlier that day. They kindly asked fans not to take too many candid set photos to avoid spoilers.

The official statement was phrased politely. Xu Xishuang hadn’t even known they had trended, but following the trail, he found the photo in question—it featured him and Yan Yushan. He scrolled through the comments without much interest.

After the clarification from both Yan Yushan and the crew, the comment section had calmed down quite a bit. Now that netizens had learned that Bitter Summer had two male leads, and saw the director was Yan Yushan himself, the discussion shifted in a different direction.

LGBTQ+ themed dramas and films had been popping up in recent years, but for someone of Yan Yushan’s status and influence to “dive in” and not just star but direct such a project—wasn’t that kind of… revealing?

Wait—wasn’t Yan Yushan supposed to be straight? Xu Xishuang’s curiosity was piqued as he kept reading.

People online said Yan Yushan had always been completely disinterested in both men and women. Anyone who dared flirt with him ended up with “two meters of grass growing over their grave.” So no one had ever really speculated about his orientation. 

Now that he was directing a gay film, the internet had launched a full-blown investigation and eventually came to a unanimous conclusion: Yan Yushan was asexual, or at least cold as ice.

Xu Xishuang: …

Asexual? Cold?

That same Yan Yushan who nearly killed him in bed??

Speechless, Xu Xishuang switched to his alt account and commented: “Absolutely impossible.” He didn’t care how many people flamed him in return. He continued scrolling in bliss.

You had to hand it to Yan Yushan. Of the ten posts he browsed on Weibo, six were about him. That photo of the two of them from earlier had somehow been boosted again, this time paired with a still of him and Chi Siyuan, captioned: “Ladies, we’ve got a new ship to board!”

Xu Xishuang stared at the post. Even though he had worked in the entertainment industry for a while, he still didn’t fully understand the lingo. So he went straight to the comments to look for an explanation.

Ignoring the hate comments telling him and Chi Siyuan to stop clout-chasing Yan Yushan, he quickly pieced together the truth from the other replies.

These people wanted to ship him and Yan Yushan, and also him and Chi Siyuan as CPs!

He spotted a user called “I Can Stay Single But My CP Must Go Three Days and Nights,” who looked like a big content creator. Fans were flooding her comments begging for new content. She replied to the original post: “But neither of these ships have much screen time together. It’s kinda hard to cook with no ingredients.”

That triggered another wave of collective wailing. Xu Xishuang couldn’t hold back his confusion and posted a comment: “Why is everyone only shipping the CPs of Xu Xishuang x Yan Yushan, and Xu Xishuang x Chi Siyuan, but not shipping Yan Yushan x Chi Siyuan as a CP?”

They’re the canon pairing in the original book! All of you are shipping heresy!

Someone quickly replied: “Because a sickly beauty goes with everything.”

“Chi Siyuan is obviously a loyal puppy gong! Yan Yushan is the top-tier alpha gong of the entire entertainment industry—no one’s arguing that, right? Two gongs together is a waste! And they have zero CP chemistry!”

“Xu Xishuang is such a classic shou, how could he not have a gong doting on him!”

“Strong top x aloof sickly beauty is the forced-love older-gong pairing! Sunshine puppy x tsundere sickly beauty is the pure-love younger-gong pairing! Both are so shippable, okay?! Yan Yushan and Chi Siyuan just don’t click!”

Xu Xishuang, like a confused old man reading on the subway: …

These netizens were really something else. They even managed to mess up the official canon couple.

About an hour later, Xu Xishuang finally put down his phone. Just before bed, he got a call from Zhao-jie.

Her voice was soft. “Xishuang, I saw you posted on Weibo today. What made you suddenly decide to engage with fans?”

Xu Xishuang: ?

“It’s just for the promo,” he answered, puzzled. “Why? Is something wrong, Zhao-jie?”

“No, no problem at all,” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “Xishuang, have you been having a hard time lately? If something’s going on, you can tell me. I’ll help however I can.”

Xu Xishuang: ??

After a moment’s thought, the realization hit him.

The original Xu Xishuang had almost never posted, always cold and distant. So now that he was cooperating and actively promoting, to Zhao-jie, it came off as… “abnormal.”

“I’m really fine, Zhao-jie. I have no issues at all,” he replied. “It’s just that this is Director Yan Yushan’s project, and I figured I should at least give him some face and help promote it a bit.”

Yan Yushan—the golden scapegoat.

Zhao-jie held back her words.

She wanted to say that Yan Yushan’s Weibo followers were a hundred times more than his, and Yan Yushan probably didn’t even notice his repost but since her artist was finally willing to take the initiative and promote something, it was still a good thing. 

So she didn’t press further. After confirming that Xu Xishuang was fine, she hung up and began considering what event to arrange for him next.

Xu Xishuang shut off his phone and slept peacefully.

The next morning, when he got up and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth, he suddenly remembered—Yan Yushan’s shirt!

It had been sitting in the washing machine for eight hours.

Feeling a little guilty, Xu Xishuang fished it out, sighed in relief when he saw it hadn’t shrunk or warped, and hung it up on the small balcony. He then headed to the set for the day’s shoot.

That day’s schedule was focused on Chi Siyuan, so Xu Xishuang technically didn’t need to be there, which is why he had allowed himself to sleep in. By the time he arrived, they’d already been filming for a while.

Xu Xishuang sat to the side and watched. Chi Siyuan was filming the scene where his character meets his new classmates for the first time. As an outsider from the city, he found their ideas and excitement confusing at first, but quickly adjusted and tried to fit in.

Chi Siyuan’s acting was still a bit raw, but his personality aligned well with his role, so it didn’t feel out of place. The scene moved along smoothly. That said, if the casting pool was broader, there were definitely more fitting choices for the role of Xia Qinglang than him.

Xu Xishuang took a sip of the warm water Xiao Wang handed him and began pondering how Yan Yushan made his casting decisions. It couldn’t have been pressure from investors because Yan Yushan was the investor.

So maybe he just liked Chi Siyuan and wanted to give him a shot?

Xu Xishuang rubbed his chin thoughtfully, eyes fixed on Chi Siyuan.

Chi Siyuan naturally noticed. During a break, he smiled brightly and trotted over like a puppy, crouching next to Xu Xishuang’s stool. “Senior, did I act okay?”

“Not great.” Since the other had called him “senior,” Xu Xishuang didn’t bother to be polite. “You still need more polishing.”

Chi Siyuan’s imaginary tail drooped but only for a second. He then perked back up. “Then, senior, can I run lines with you?”

“Sure,” Xu Xishuang agreed after a short pause. He was bored anyway. “But wouldn’t it be better to ask Director Yan? He wrote the script. He could give you better feedback.”

Xu Xishuang was carefully trying to nudge the story back towards the main couple. What if, in the original timeline, Chi Siyuan had approached Yan Yushan?

He had once considered keeping his distance from both the gong protagonist and shou for safety but in the original novel, Xu Xishuang had distanced himself from them, left the industry, and eventually died. Maybe the connection was a coincidence but it was better to be cautious.

Staying within range, but not too close—that was the safe play. He didn’t want to be the obstacle in anyone’s love story, nor the annoying third wheel.

Chi Siyuan shook his head vigorously. “No, no. Director Yan’s scary. I’m afraid he’ll yell at me.”

Xu Xishuang blinked. “Then why do you think I wouldn’t yell at you?”

Chi Siyuan froze.

“I really am scared of Director Yan,” he said pitifully, eyes wide like a puppy. “It’s okay if you yell at me, senior. I can take it.”

Looking into those wide, puppy-dog eyes, Xu Xishuang’s fingers twitched and then acted. He reached out and patted Chi Siyuan’s head. “Alright. Message me after shooting tonight, and I’ll go over your lines with you.”

Chi Siyuan instantly revived, his imaginary tail wagging at full speed. He even nuzzled Xu Xishuang’s wrist like a dog begging for praise. Just as he was about to say something else, Yan Yushan called out from the set, “Chi Siyuan, next scene.”

Xu Xishuang watched as Chi Siyuan immediately wilted, stood up reluctantly, waved goodbye, and jogged off to the classroom set.

He glanced in Yan Yushan’s direction—only to meet his eyes.

Yan Yushan quickly looked away like he’d been burned, pretending to focus on the monitor.

Xu Xishuang: ?

Yan Yushan, restless and distracted, stared at the feed. He had noticed Xu Xishuang the moment he arrived and had even been prepared to greet him but Xu Xishuang hadn’t come over. He had spent the whole time chatting with Chi Siyuan, even laughing and touching him—

Yan Yushan felt an odd irritation bubbling up. He grabbed a bottle of ice water from the fridge and chugged it, but it did nothing to cool his temper.

The crew quickly noticed something was off. Yan Yushan had started making Chi Siyuan redo scenes over and over, demanding perfection. He was nothing like the kind director from the day before.

Strangely, Chi Siyuan held up under the pressure and even improved with each take. Like a dull blade being sharpened again and again, he was finally starting to show his edge.

Watching from the side, Xu Xishuang nodded in approval.

Now this is what the protagonist gong and shou dynamic should be—just the right amount of rivals-to-lovers energy.