TOW 6

For the entire week that followed, Xu Fei didn’t have any unnecessary physical contact with Liang Xuan.

That weekend, he didn’t go riding. He stayed in the hotel and slept the whole day. By evening, hunger drove him out. A few blocks away, he found a halfway decent Chinese restaurant. The place wasn’t busy, just a few fans spinning from the ceiling, blasting air so hard it made his head ache. He tucked himself into a corner and was halfway through texting his agent, Old Pang, when he looked up and saw Liang Xuan sitting across from him.

Xu Fei had no clue how Liang Xuan found him.

“What do you want to eat?” Xu Fei asked. When Liang Xuan didn’t reply, he clicked his tongue and said, “Alright, I’ll order you a Yangzhou fried rice.” He called the boss over and placed the order.

The owner recognized them. He started asking when their show would finish filming, whether it’d air in Ceylon, and kept praising Liang Xuan for being so good-looking. The man was practically a fan already.

“You should’ve asked for a discount,” Xu Fei teased once the guy walked away. “Eighty-five percent off, and in exchange you take a photo with him. Then when you’re famous, he can hang the pic on his wall.”

But Liang Xuan stayed quiet. Xu Fei started feeling bored. He tried to make small talk, but after a couple of failed lines, he gave up and stared at the bright, gaudy landscape painting on the wall. The room fell into silence. The only sound was the electric fan at the door roaring as if trying to blast the heat out of the air.

“Are you mad at me?” Liang Xuan suddenly asked.

Xu Fei turned his head. Liang Xuan’s brows were furrowed so tight he looked like an accountant who’d just lost the year-end files.

“Mad?” Xu Fei licked his lips. What was there to be mad about?

“You think,” he said slowly, voice low, “that just because we’ve had sex a few times, I’ve become obsessed with your dick? That I’ve caught feelings? And if you don’t want to take things further, I’ll get all sulky, and start throwing tantrums? Is that what you think?”

The fan at the entrance roared even louder. Maybe it hit just the right current, because Liang Xuan’s face was starting to look pale.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said.

“Good,” Xu Fei smiled. “Because I’m not mad.”

The owner brought over two plates of fried rice. Xu Fei, as usual, tore into his like he hadn’t eaten in days. Liang Xuan ate slowly. By the time Xu Fei cleaned his plate, Liang Xuan’s was still half full. The greasy bits of meat, corn, and egg looked out of place somehow, like this long summer had suddenly turned excessive.

That night, Xu Fei couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed for a while before finally getting up, opening the window, and lighting a cigarette. In the distance, a few stars blinked through the haze, merging with the amber glow of streetlights under a deep blue sky. Xu Fei couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen a night so still.

He lowered his gaze, watching the ember at the tip of the cigarette flare and dim with each breath. His mind drifted back to the look on Liang Xuan’s face at dinner. That awkward, uncomfortable expression. Xu Fei sighed and ran both hands through his hair, tugging hard. He realized he’d been too harsh.

It wasn’t Liang Xuan’s fault.

He’d just been too happy lately. So happy he got careless. So happy he fooled himself into forgetting he was an adult, and this was the real world.

The next day on set, Xu Fei waited until there was a quiet moment, then slipped into Liang Xuan’s trailer. Liang Xuan looked surprised when he saw him. He even froze mid-sip of water. Xu Fei closed the door behind him and stood there awkwardly for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Yesterday… what I said yesterday was out of line. I’m sorry.”

Liang Xuan didn’t move. Xu Fei’s whole body started itching with discomfort. He scratched at his neck and added, “I really wasn’t mad… but maybe I was a bit frustrated. You hit me right in the nuts with that line.”

Xu Fei let out a couple of awkward laughs. He stood there a moment longer, but seeing that Liang Xuan’s expression hadn’t changed at all, he couldn’t keep it up. He turned and grabbed the door handle.

“Anyway… I’m sorry. I hope we’re still friends.”

Liang Xuan put down his cup. “Of course.”

Xu Fei gave a small nod, offered him one last sheepish smile, then pulled the door open and left.

The shoot wrapped in an atmosphere of harmony and calm. The producer had originally planned to throw a wrap party, but most of the actors were eager to go home, and Director Li Shanyi was already anxious to get into editing and post-production, so nothing ever came of it.

The next day, they boarded a chartered flight home. Li Shanyi and Liang Xuan sat in first class. Xu Fei was crammed in the back, flipping through the original novel of Southbound all over again. Cai Jiajun sat beside him, completely passed out, head tilted onto Xu Fei’s shoulder with a string of drool hanging from his mouth. Not an ounce of dignity left. Xu Fei took a bunch of unflattering pictures from different angles, planning to use them for future blackmail.

When they arrived in Pinghai, Old Pang was already waiting outside the airport. Xu Fei climbed into his secondhand Buick, leaned the seat back, unzipped his jacket, crossed his legs, and let out a long sigh. Old Pang smacked his leg with disdain, but Xu Fei didn’t move, flopping there like a corpse. Old Pang muttered complaints as he turned onto the highway.

“So, what’s the plan now?”

“Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to be making plans for me?” Xu Fei snorted. Seeing the glare Old Pang shot him, he added, “No plans really. I want to rest. This shoot wore me out.”

Old Pang gave him a sideways look. “You’re looking good though. Got some muscle on you.”

That was exactly what Xu Fei wanted to hear. He quickly rolled up his sleeve to show off his arms, then lifted his shirt to flash the vague outlines of his abs. Old Pang snorted and rolled his eyes, offering no comment.

By November, the crew called him again to do some ADR for a few scenes. Some of the audio captured during filming wasn’t usable and had to be re-recorded in post. With more particular directors and producers, even the scenes might get reshot if the edit didn’t work. That was even more exhausting.

At the studio, Xu Fei ran into Cai Jiajun. They both finished their recordings quickly, then shamelessly dropped by Li Shanyi’s editing room to watch a bit of the rough cut. But editing was barely halfway done, scattered and disjointed. It was impossible to get a real feel for the final product.

When they stepped outside, the wind cut sharp and cold. Xu Fei sneezed nonstop. He wrapped half his face in a scarf and asked, “Can we not take the electric shuttle? We’ll freeze to death out here.”

“Xinjing is cold as fuck,” Cai Jiajun agreed. They were both southerners, always complaining about how damp and chilly southern winters were. But now that they were in the north, they understood what it meant to have your spine bent by wind that hits like a brick wall.

They walked in what little sunlight was left until they exited the lot. Just then, Cai Jiajun said, “Isn’t that Liang Xuan?”

Xu Fei followed his gaze. It really was Liang Xuan, bundled up tight with only his face showing. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold.

“I’m gonna go say hi,” Cai Jiajun said. Before Xu Fei could stop him, he had already jogged over, chatting away with a grin. Liang Xuan replied with a few words, then looked over at Xu Fei. Xu Fei gave him a small nod.

The year ended under a storm of gossip surrounding starlet Feng Zijun. No one knew how it started, but suddenly every news outlet and tabloid was running stories. Photos of Feng Zijun out late at night with a tall, handsome young man were everywhere. The images were blurry, but even with the low quality, people could still make out the guy’s strong build and sharp features. The way Feng Zijun smiled at him was radiant.

Even Xu Fei’s parents were talking about it.

“Feng Zijun and that young man look really good together,” his mom said as she watched one of her dramas. She had recently become obsessed with the actor. “What’s his name again, Liang Xuan?”

Xu Fei was too busy chewing on the egg yolk pastries she made. He only grunted vaguely in reply.

Spring Festival passed, and Xu Fei had another birthday. He received a notice from Southbound to report to Xinjing for the premiere. That day there was also an official event where the cast and crew would visit a martyrs’ cemetery to pay their respects. Xu Fei wore the black suit the production requested and joined the crowd. Right at the front, he immediately spotted Liang Xuan. Still rocking a buzz cut, face solemn, standing straight like a damn power pole. Xu Fei had to try hard to tear his gaze away.

The premiere was a huge success. After the first two episodes played, the audience burst into applause that didn’t stop even when Director Li Shanyi went on stage.

Li Shanyi bowed repeatedly. “Thank you, everyone. Thank you New Line. Thank you Xinjing Film.”

Xu Fei clapped just as hard. He had always loved the way Li Shanyi told stories, and he was also proud of how he performed in Southbound. Whether or not it made him famous, at least he had a damn good time.

After the screening came a round of press Q&A. Inside the media room, there were over a dozen cast members. Xu Fei stayed low, not planning to speak. Not that it would’ve been his turn anyway. Every single mic was pointed at Liang Xuan. He was the undeniable star of Southbound.

“Liang Xuan,” one reporter from Xinjing Film’s partner outlet asked the standard question, “how did it feel playing an active-duty soldier this time?”

Then came the gossip tabloids, bold as ever. “Rumor has it you and Feng Zijun are getting engaged?”

Liang Xuan answered every question calmly and professionally, never missing a beat. He was smooth, composed, like an old pro. His replies were short, clear, and gave nothing away. The press assistant beside him whispered pointers now and then, and the whole Q&A moved along quickly.

“Look at that,” Cai Jiajun leaned over after finishing his turn, staring at Liang Xuan with admiration. “This guy was born to be a star.”

Xu Fei shrugged. “Blame your unlucky fate.”

Cai Jiajun elbowed him in retaliation.

After the session, Director Li Shanyi stood up and said no one was allowed to skip out on drinks tonight.

Since the director was in the mood, everyone readily agreed and started joking about making him pay for the expensive stuff. Li Shanyi, in high spirits, actually rented out half the venue. He waved them off generously. “Go have fun. Drink whatever you want.”

Xu Fei went over to toast him. “Thank you, Director.” And he meant it.

Back during The Informant, Xu Fei had still been deep in his drug habit. He had managed not to use it while filming, but his head was a mess. On good days, he performed better than anyone. On bad days, he screwed up take after take. The production had wanted him gone, and it was Director Li who kept him on and even offered guidance. Now he had given him another chance.

Li Shanyi clinked glasses with him. “You’ve done well. Got any work lined up this year?”

“A friend is shooting a low-budget art film. I’ll help out.” Xu Fei said. “But if you’ve got something coming up, just call my agent.”

Li Shanyi laughed. “I knew you’d be thinking of me. Alright, if anything I’m prepping suits you, I’ll give him a call.”

They chatted a bit more before someone else came over to talk, and Xu Fei gave a quick excuse to slip away. He went back to a quiet corner, right next to the live band. The group was belting out old rock tracks from the eighties and nineties. Xu Fei leaned on the table, watching for a while, until he noticed the lead singer had a tattoo of “Peace Under Heaven” on his arm, like he was ready to walk around the streets carrying slogans. Xu Fei laughed so hard he nearly smacked his head against the table.

“Careful,” someone said.

He looked up. Liang Xuan was standing there, reaching out to nudge the beer glass back toward the center of the table.

“It was about to fall,” Liang Xuan added.

Xu Fei nodded. Liang Xuan sat down, folding himself into the tight corner with his legs crossed.

“Long time no see,” he said.

Xu Fei noticed his cheeks were red. “How many drinks have you had?”

“One with Director Li,” Liang Xuan said. “Then Cai Jiajun came over and insisted on toasting. Couldn’t dodge it, so another. After that the producer showed up and…”

“Three drinks?” Xu Fei blinked. “Look at that, building up your tolerance.”

Liang Xuan gave a tight, scrunched-up smile. Xu Fei couldn’t help but watch him, staring at the flush in his cheeks, the dazed, bright eyes, the pink, slightly wet lips. Watching how, for some reason, he had wandered over and sat himself down across from him again.

“Your hair’s getting long,” Liang Xuan said.

Xu Fei reached up and ran a hand through his hair. “Not too bad. Just a little longer.” Then he looked at Liang Xuan. “You haven’t changed though. Still keeping that buzz cut?”

“I took a role earlier this year. Playing a disabled, retired soldier.” Liang Xuan traced a circle on his head with a finger but didn’t finish the sentence. Xu Fei thought he looked way too damn cute.

He waved for the server to bring another beer, but then noticed Liang Xuan staring at his arm. After a while, he finally spoke. “You got a new tattoo.”

Xu Fei paused, then looked down at his right arm. “Oh, right.” He rolled up his sleeve and showed it to him. “Got it done two weeks ago. A bullet casing. Kind of a tribute to Southbound.”

Liang Xuan reached out.

“Looks good.” His fingertips gently pressed against the inside of Xu Fei’s arm.

Xu Fei felt a ticklish spark run through him. When he looked up, he saw Liang Xuan quietly watching him.