spouse
The humid heat of Shantou hadn't even dried from the bone when the sun blazed down in Hengdian. After finishing filming the scenes in Shantou, the crew of "Autumn Wind Chant" immediately rushed back to Hengdian to continue filming.
As everyone was getting ready in the morning, the hotel's side entrance was, as usual, packed with fans. A sea of heads thronged around them, each holding a letter and a gift, eagerly watching the hotel exit. Chu Yiran wore his usual gentle smile, quietly reminding everyone to be careful as he patiently accepted the letters handed to him. The soft rustling of paper mingled with the suppressed screams of excitement from the girls.
"Brother Ran, please take good care of yourself!"
"May your filming go smoothly, brother!"
...
He nodded, thanked him, and maintained a perfectly curved smile. The letters were stacked thickly in his palm, heavy with weight. After all the letters were collected, Sun Xiaoxiao took them from the side, and Chu Yiran turned to get into the car.
The van was just a few steps away, and just as he bent down to get in—
Suddenly, a burst of terrified gasps and screams erupted around him. Chu Yiran subconsciously turned around, and almost at the same moment, a shadow pounced on him from behind, as swift as if it had calculated the trajectory in advance.
"Bang!"
A dull thud. It was the sound of a plastic bottle hitting a [unclear - possibly a type of object], both blunt and heavy.
Su Jing had somehow gotten right behind him, using her left side to firmly block the sneak attack. The water bottle that had been thrown rolled to the ground, and a bright red mark quickly rose on Su Jing's left forearm, scratched by the edge of the bottle. Chu Yiran could even see Su Jing's lips tighten in pain.
The next second, Su Jing bent down and grabbed the full bottle of mineral water from the ground, his eyes suddenly turning icy cold. He then abruptly turned and rushed into the crowd. The security guards instinctively reached out to stop him, and the fans, startled by his sudden outburst, gasped and took a few steps back, automatically creating a narrow path.
The girl who threw the bottle looked quite young, and she was holding a cheering stick in her hand. She probably didn't expect that it would actually hit someone, and she certainly didn't expect that it would be Su Jing rushing over. She was completely stunned and stood there in place.
Su Jing held up the bottle of water, her voice cold and hard: "Why did you do this?"
The girl was terrified, her eyes instantly reddening. She stammered, "Brother Su... Su Jing... I'm your fan! Chu Yiran is so wicked! He's always using you for marketing and leeching off you! Why are you still protecting him?!"
She spoke incoherently, her voice trembling with tears, as if she had suffered a tremendous injustice.
"No matter who you're a fan of, you can't do this!" Su Jing's facial muscles tensed, her voice suddenly rising, sharp and cold, "How old are you? Who taught you this? Do your parents know you're doing this kind of thing? Do you know how dangerous this is? What if it hits someone's eye? Can you take responsibility?!"
Every word felt like a slap in the face, a hard blow.
The girl was completely stunned by the scolding. All the color drained from her face, and tears streamed down her face like a broken string of pearls. Her mouth was open, but she couldn't utter a single word.
A moment of deathly silence followed, then an even greater chaos erupted. The other fans were startled and agitated by the commotion. Security guards rushed in, sweating profusely, to maintain order and try to separate the crowd. The noise, chatter, and words of comfort mingled together in a cacophony.
Chu Yiran, however, seemed to be nailed to the spot.
The cold air from the van was seeping out from the open door, brushing against the back of his neck. A strange and complex emotion suddenly gripped Chu Yiran's heart, making his chest feel tight.
As expected, the incident in Hengdian quickly spread online, and the hashtag #SuJingTrainsFans# exploded on the trending topics list. Videos taken from various angles went viral, showing Su Jing's extremely cold profile in the shaky footage. The line "Who taught you that? Do your parents know you're doing this kind of thing outside?" was cut into audio and its play count soared.
The comments section has long since become a battlefield.
[My heart is broken. My idol used to be so gentle with his fans, why was he so fierce this time... Although throwing bottles was wrong, that girl looked so young, and she was scolded so badly...]
[Get lost, you sanctimonious person upstairs! Throwing a water bottle at the back of someone's head is malicious assault! Su Jing's words were well-deserved! Anyone who wants this kind of "fan" is doomed! Su Jing's actions show responsibility towards his fans!]
[I'm not taking this opportunity to promote myself; I refuse bundled marketing. Thanks to Teacher Su for her help, but please walk independently.]
[The official Weibo account for "Autumn Wind Chant" has gained 200,000 followers... You guys really nailed this marketing campaign [doge emoji]]
...
The noise and commotion were kept out of the film set. The sun in Hengdian was scorching, making the studio feel like a giant steamer.
Su Jing's face remained unsmiling all morning.
He was wearing a heavy costume, his brow furrowed. A simple scene, meant to be a mere formality, had taken four takes. The director's yell of "Cut!" grew more and more exasperated with each repetition. Su Jing rubbed his temples, walked to a shady spot in the rest area, tilted his head back, and chugged half a bottle of ice water. His Adam's apple bobbed violently, but the air around him felt even heavier and more oppressive.
Chu Yiran sat on a rest chair. He didn't have any scenes with Su Jing this morning, but his gaze kept unconsciously passing over the busy crowd and landing on that obviously irritable figure.
Sun Xiaoxiao held a small fan to cool him down, and following his gaze, she sighed knowingly in a low voice, "Teacher Su isn't in a good mood today, probably because of what happened this morning, it's causing a huge uproar online..."
"Where is Zhao Wei?" he asked, seemingly casually.
Sun Xiaoxiao said "Oh," and then added, "Didn't Brother Zhao go to pick up Xixi and Linlin to go back to Jiangcheng? He hasn't come back yet." She paused, then looked cautiously at Chu Yiran, lowering her voice even further, "Brother Ran, this morning... Teacher Su took that hit for you pretty hard. Your arm must still hurt, and you've been in the sun all morning... Do you want to... go see him?" She knew that the two of them had never gotten along, so she phrased it very tactfully.
Chu Yiran paused, his fingers, which were twirling the corner of the script page.
By the time they finished work, the sun was already setting. Chu Yiran removed her makeup and drove the van directly back to the hotel. At the elevator entrance of the underground parking garage, she happened to come across a brightly lit sign for a 24-hour pharmacy.
He paused for a moment.
Five minutes later, he came out with a small plastic bag containing a bottle of medicinal wine specifically for treating sprains and bruises.
Back in his room, he stared at the bottle of brown liquid for a long time before finally picking up his phone and dialing Sun Xiaoxiao's number.
"Xiaoxiao, come to my room."
Sun Xiaoxiao arrived very quickly.
Chu Yiran handed her the medicinal wine, speaking as calmly as possible: "Take this... to Su Jing. Just say... thank him for his help this morning."
Sun Xiaoxiao's eyes lit up, and she immediately took it: "Okay, Brother Ran! I guarantee it will be delivered!"
Sun Xiaoxiao left in a flash. Chu Yiran closed the door and tried to read the script, but found he couldn't concentrate on a single word. The room was nicely air-conditioned, but he felt inexplicably restless. That bottle of medicinal wine seemed a bit unnecessary, yet also... perfectly reasonable.
Not long after, the doorbell rang suddenly. Chu Yiran assumed it was Sun Xiaoxiao returning from delivering the medicine.
"How is it, Xiaoxiao? Su Jing—"
Su Jing was wearing a loose black vest, his hair half-dry, as if he had just taken a shower. He leaned lazily against the door frame, holding the bottle of medicinal wine that Chu Yiran had recently bought in his left hand. The red mark on his left arm, caused by the water bottle hitting him, was more clearly exposed under the light. It was swollen, with purplish-red bruises, extending from the outside of his forearm all the way to his elbow joint, looking shocking.
He looked up at Chu Yiran, and in those eyes that were usually distant, there was now an extremely incongruous emotion, a mixture of grievance and self-righteousness.
“Teacher Chu,” he began, his voice a little hoarse, as if wilted by the Hengdian sun, “I shielded you from such a dangerous attack, and all you did was send Xiaoxiao to deliver a bottle of medicine? That’s hardly sincere, is it?”
Chu Yiran was somewhat bewildered and at a loss for words, asking, "Then... what do you want..."
“My right hand isn’t fully healed yet, and now my left hand is injured too…” He shook his obviously immobile left arm, speaking as casually as if discussing the weather, “Could you help me apply some medicine?”
Sun Xiaoxiao stood half a step behind Su Jing, her neck hunched, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly open. She looked at Su Jing and then at Chu Yiran, her whole being filled with shock and helplessness, as if to say, "Who am I? Where am I? This plot is not right."
Chu Yiran's thoughts went blank at that moment.
He had anticipated all sorts of possible reactions from Su Jing: cold acceptance, polite thanks, or even mocking him for being nosy. He was prepared to respond with distance and politeness.
I never expected this to happen.
The light in the corridor outlined Su Jing's somewhat pale profile and his severed arm, silent yet more impactful than any words.
The air froze for about ten seconds.
Chu Yiran's Adam's apple bobbed, and he practically squeezed out two words through clenched teeth.
"……Come in."
Sun Xiaoxiao tactfully returned to her room, the door clicking softly, shutting out the outside world.
Suddenly, only the two of them remained in the room. The air conditioner silently blew cold air, but it couldn't dispel the abrupt, sticky awkwardness and...something indescribable, subtle atmosphere.
Chu Yiran took a deep breath and pointed to the sofa: "Sit."
Su Jing readily complied, and after sitting down, he proactively extended his injured left arm onto the coffee table, the red mark appearing even more grotesque under the indoor light.
The medicinal wine was unscrewed, and a strong, pungent aroma filled the air.
Chu Yiran poured some water into his palm and rubbed it to warm it up. Then, silently and as gently as possible, he placed his hand on the burning skin. The moment his fingertips touched it, he could clearly feel Su Jing's arm muscles tense up for a moment, then force himself to relax.
The pressure of the massage was neither too light nor too heavy. Chu Yi lowered his eyes, focusing intently on the wound, trying to ignore the unusual touch and temperature of the skin under his hand.
“Teacher Su,” he began, his voice sounding a little dry in the excessively quiet space, “isn’t the difference in how you treat me before a bit too great?”
Since Su Jing woke up from his injury, everything has changed. The shift from cold indifference to almost offensive closeness was so abrupt that Su Jing couldn't understand it.
Su Jing tilted her head to look at him, her long eyelashes fluttering twice, and her face revealed a perfectly appropriate look of innocence and confusion, her acting skills so superb that it seemed she had won ten film awards.
"Hmm?" He uttered a lazy syllable, then blinked as if suddenly realizing something. "You said it yourself, it was before."
His tone was light and casual, with a hint of deliberate nonchalance: "Didn't Master Jingyang say that the past can't be undone? You had such a bad dream before..." He paused, his gaze falling on Chu Yiran's downcast eyes, his voice softening, "If you don't like me because of those things, that's normal. But I've figured it out now. I genuinely want to be your friend, and I don't care about what happened before—"
"I care."
Chu Yiran abruptly interrupted him, stopping the massaging motion in her hands.
He looked up, his gaze meeting Su Jing's, a cold hardness in his eyes as if trying to draw a line: "I'm grateful for what happened today, but we can't be friends. So, you really don't need to treat me like this." His voice grew even colder, "Let's just stay strangers, like we've always tacitly agreed before."
Chu Yiran's chest heaved violently, filled with an indescribable anger. He couldn't accept that the past had been so easily dismissed.
The expected surprise, anger, or embarrassment did not occur.
Su Jing's expression remained completely unchanged, as if he had expected him to say that. In fact, the corners of his mouth even curved slightly upwards.
That smile made Chu Yiran's heart skip a beat.
The next second, his wrist, which was covering Su Jing's arm, suddenly tightened!
Su Jing's right hand suddenly covered his hand, his palm burning hot and holding it tightly with undeniable strength, gripping his hand which was covered in medicinal wine.
Chu Yiran was startled and subconsciously tried to pull away, but was held even more firmly.
Su Jing leaned forward, closing the dangerous distance between them. Her beautiful eyes, reflecting the light from the overhead lamp, were astonishingly bright and deep, staring straight at him.
"Not friends?" Su Jing repeated, her tone slow and leisurely, with a strange allure, "That's okay too."
His thumb lightly and ambiguously brushed against the inside of Chu Yiran's wrist.
Then, Chu Yiran heard him drop a bomb, a bombshell capable of shattering all reason, in a tone that was almost a sigh yet crystal clear.
"How about we become lovers?"
"Snap!" A crisp sound.
Chu Yiran suddenly dropped the medicine bottle he was holding in his other hand, smashing it onto the carpeted floor. The dark brown liquid splattered, and a strong, pungent aroma exploded, filling every corner.
He stood frozen in place, his wrist still tightly gripped by Su Jing, his pupils contracting violently, his mind blank, with only that one sentence echoing and reverberating repeatedly.
do what?
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