Wishes made on shumai don't come true

Jiang Songhe's original plan was to wait until the withdrawal period ended and Jiang Songyun officially came of age, then focus on watching "Yan Ge Xing" from its online premiere until the end of the entire promotional period, and after dealing with everything related to him...

Go to hell.

Unexpectedly, every step of the original plan went wrong. Producer Xu Qin of Yunhe had just resigned, the project "Yan Ge Xing" was targeted by industry giants and was hindered, the time limit for the withdrawal period was estimated incorrectly, and it would take at least another month for the younger brother to complete the entire Star Show competition.

He couldn't die.

As an agent and producer, Jiang Songhe knows that a film and television project, from the planning stage to the end of the broadcast, will inevitably encounter various unexpected problems, big or small.

When problems arise, he calmly solves them like a machine; that's how he's done it for over ten years in the industry.

But after a trip to Manel and getting involved with the unpredictable Jonathan, everything went off track and out of control. His usually calm emotions seemed easily stirred up by this little madman.

Jonah is like a mysterious, unpredictable wind; whenever she feels like it, she can brazenly invade Jiang Songhe's life.

Jiang Songhe tried everything to drive him away, from gentle persuasion to force, but to no avail. Jonathan remained obstinate and relentless. Passively drawn into this chase, he went from initially avoiding him to becoming wary, then accustomed to it, and at some point, even began to look forward to it.

Then, just as the foundation of the high wall began to crumble, he concluded that this was merely a game in which the other party challenged his bottom line.

They wanted to get back on track, but found it was too late.

Jiang Songhe's past world was a skyscraper made of black, white, gray steel and concrete. External information was systematically incorporated into the floors according to its importance and urgency. After being processed, it was directly transferred to the top level, the ivory tower he personally built for his younger brother.

Now, it has long become a nightmare maze with an overturned palette and scribbled mess, causing the brain's processor to frequently malfunction and be distracted by trivial details without distinguishing between primary and secondary issues.

As his senses gradually became overloaded, a problem that could have been solved calmly suddenly turned into a major, thorny issue shrouded in an overwhelming shadow, making Jiang Songhe anxious and hesitant to move forward.

-

Jiang Songhe witnessed Jiang Songyun successfully enter the Star Show finals without his accompaniment. At 10 PM Jingting time, he returned to his bedroom, lay on the bed, and turned on only a night light.

Close your eyes and wait for the tide of near-death to arrive as scheduled, accompanied by a buzzing sound. Hold your breath until you reach the critical point of suffocation, and then drift away.

I sat downstairs and watched the live stream for 10 hours, thinking I would fall asleep quickly and routinely pass through the darkest hour in nightmares. But the chaotic thoughts in my mind kept me stuck in a frustrating state where I was just starting to feel sleepy, only to be woken up by new ideas.

What are the potential pitfalls of "Yan Ge Xing"? Did Xu Qin betray the project by offering confidential information to Ciyi? If "Yan Ge Xing" is destined to be a flop, should it be rushed to air before it becomes a disaster, or should the production wait until the problems are resolved before investing more in post-production and replacing problematic scenes? Will the costs of AI face-swapping and location reshoots cause investors to withdraw their funding en masse? How will the funding gap be filled?

Song Yun's half of his inheritance must absolutely not be touched...

The most urgent task is to stabilize the three major platforms for joint broadcasting and retain exposure slots in the annual film and television lineup.

Besides Song Yun's impressive run to the finals of the Star Show competition, what other highlights could she offer that could be used as leverage in negotiations with the platform, or as a publicity opportunity?

Janus, a top idol, has officially announced his transformation project, and it's a good choice as the OST for "Yan Ge Xing".

As Jiang Songhe thought of this, his eyelids began to feel heavy, and his chest began to feel tight. He frowned, and with a slow and labored breath, he took a long breath. When he released it, the ink waves had already submerged half of his body, patting and washing over him as if greeting him.

Various thoughts lingered in his mind like a tangled mess. Jiang Songhe skillfully crossed his hands on his abdomen, clenched his fingers, held his breath, and focused intently on feeling his chest and lungs expand little by little.

This wave is more ferocious than any in previous years.

Jiang Songhe felt himself floating and sinking in the surging tide, being tossed and shaken, as if the monstrous waves were real, choking his throat, hitting his shoulders and neck, and wrapping around his waist and abdomen, making him want to escape but unable to move.

The water temperature was no longer as cold as in previous years, but gradually began to rise. It felt as if our bodies and skin were being boiled in lava, and our pores opened up with a tingling sensation, squeezing out hot sweat.

The torture was rapidly approaching his limit. Jiang Songhe felt as if he would be burned into a pool of blood in the next second. Unable to hold his breath any longer, he straightened his chest, opened his mouth, and let out the sweltering breath: "Ha ha—"

Jiang Songhe's Adam's apple, arched like a mountain peak, was suddenly and haphazardly pressed down a few times. He reflexively clenched his teeth and nodded, but his jaw was immediately pinched, his breathing opening was pried open, and almost simultaneously, it was sealed tightly shut.

The familiar aroma filled her nostrils, and Jiang Songhe instantly opened her eyes wide, waking up.

His gaze had barely caught sight of two points of eye so close to his when it was enveloped by a cool mist. The kiss was broken, and his burning breath carried soft whispers to his ear: "Close your eyes... just use it as a painkiller... hmm?"

Reason returned rapidly in the darkness, and Jiang Songhe clearly sensed that he was currently being controlled by someone, forced to draw his sword and confront them. The long blades clashed, and every confrontation produced a shockwave that shook his entire body.

Jiang Songhe spread his fingers apart, followed the smell and the source of the numbness, grabbed his rival's neck and arm, and shoved him away.

A series of coughs, both angry and urgent, followed from above his head and face: "Jiang Songhe! You... have you ever been through drug rehabilitation?! I cough... I just... just wanted to help you..."

Jiang Songhe released his large hand, then lowered it, lifting the hand covering his eyes. He frowned and squinted, saying, "No need. You, you get out..."

"Your body is more honest than your mouth." The blade bounced again. "Do you not need help, or do you not need me?"

My eyes, now adjusted to the indoor light, rediscovered those two points of light and clearly saw the glint of light beneath the thick eyelashes.

The person who asked the question seemed stumped by their own question, pausing for a moment before continuing, seemingly confused, "What about Rosa? Imagine me as her, or that..."

He spoke in a thoughtful manner, and suddenly his indescribable zone tightened. Jiang Songhe was almost driven crazy by this awkward feeling. She wished she could grow another pair of arms, tie this person up, gag him, and throw him out.

"What are you talking about?" Jiang Songhe asked through gritted teeth.

Jonathan smiled and said, "It's not important."

The hand on his chin loosened and moved downwards, revealing the other arm, which was still at large. Like a snake dragging its shed skin, the rough texture of the bandage scraped against the skin on the inside of Jiang Songhe's forearm, sending a shiver down his spine.

A head of silver hair was pulled back by the force, moved further away, and slowly fell down.

His wrist was then pried open and gripped, pulled to the solid point held in the dim light, his palm being rubbed by a soft, damp touch: "Hold on to me."

Before she could react, a warm, humid breath was on her front. Jiang Songhe thought of Jonathan's childhood trauma, and a chill ran down her spine. Ignoring whether it was offensive, she grabbed his soft hair, lifted him up, and dragged him in front of her.

"Are you fucking crazy?! You know perfectly well that you..." Jiang Songhe was furious like a red-eyed Vajra. Hearing a painful hiss from his palm, he immediately spread his fingers and looked away. "Don't be so self-righteous. I don't need anything."

"If someone shamelessly stays at your house, isn't it fair that they have to pay for their lodging in exchange?" Jonathan leaned closer against the force on his neck. "A top celebrity is offering themselves up to serve you, what more could you want?"

After saying that, she made a gesture as if to kneel down again: "If you really feel disgusted, you can turn off the light. Remember, I'm a woman..."

"Have you made enough of a scene?!" Jiang Songhe tightened her grip on the porcelain-white neck again, her hand loosening slightly. Enraged, she slapped him hard. "I am! I fucking am! I... damn it!!!"

The word "homosexuality" was on the tip of its tongue, but Jiang Songhe still couldn't bring herself to say it, and in the end, it turned into a huff that came out of her nose.

His parents' portraits were displayed on the altar in the memorial room next door, but how could he bring himself to say it? On the actual anniversary of his parents' death, what was he doing, so rebellious?

She kissed a man, had an affair, and became entangled in a complicated relationship.

If his parents were still alive and knew his actual orientation, how would they feel?

The one who is "disgusting" is never anyone else, but only himself.

It was my own repeated negligence and recklessness that led me to get involved in Jonah's absurd game.

They are constantly giving signals, yet they try to shift all the blame onto the players for provoking them.

What's even more "disgusting" is that just now, he realized he had fallen into a trap from which he could not extricate himself.

I can't bear to die.

If you want to live, keep a close eye on Jonathan and don't allow him to do anything to ruin himself under his nose.

Knowing it's impossible, and not worthy.

He's finished.

Jiang Songhe's soul seemed to have fallen into a cold abyss of punishment for hypocrisy, pierced from the inside out by sharp ice spikes. He sighed weakly and said, "I'm really tired, Jonathan, please let me go, okay?"

“Okay.” Jonathan lowered his head, his bangs obscuring his eyes, making it impossible to discern his emotions. “I’ll put it down now.”

Jonah then actually let go.

Jiang Songhe pursed her lips, swallowed her Adam's apple, and suppressed a sudden, inexplicable, but increasingly intense sense of loss. Afraid of being noticed, she removed the large hand from Jonathan's neck, turned to the bedside table, and turned off the nightlight.

Neither of the two people in the darkness made any further movement.

After a long while, the soft touch left his palm and moved to his chin. A pair of ribs, like Velcro straps, pressed and stuck to him, making Jiang Songhe feel a little pain. Then, his neck was encircled by two long arms.

Pat-pat.

Two drops of warm liquid tapped onto Jiang Songhe's collarbone, quickly evaporating and leaving only coolness.

My heart was struck twice, albeit belatedly.

With a limp palm, Jiang Songhe pressed down on the slender back, landing on the prominent sphenoid bone. He couldn't help but press the person against his chest, silently sniffing the air. Then, using his arm, he gently tossed the person to his side, in what he considered a more comfortable position.

"Go to sleep." He really didn't know how to say goodnight to Jonathan.

-

More than an hour later, her neck was still being held loosely around the neck.

Jiang Songhe stared wide-eyed at the ceiling in the darkness under the lamplight, counting sheep.

When the count reached the 4,182nd, the person beside him stirred and uttered incoherent murmurs.

"At home".

"hold head high?"

“You don’t say ‘home’ anymore. When you turn on the TV or order takeout, you say ‘here’ instead.”

"...Really? I didn't notice."

That was the end of it.

After a while, the collar around her neck tightened, and her collarbone was brushed by a slightly cool touch.

"Jiang Songhe. Can I live next door?"

And then nothing more was heard from them.

The lock was completely released, and the whispered words drifted to the other side of the bed.

"The wish I made while looking at the shumai didn't come true after all..."