Crossover Actors - Chapter 36

The hallway was bathed in a warm, yellow glow, and the shadows of people were elongated, cast onto the textured wallpaper. Ruan Feng hurried to the door of room 6206, wearing dark sunglasses that covered most of his small face.

 

Qu Yanting had called him over, his tone cold, and Ruan didn’t dare delay. He had abandoned a half-eaten cake and rushed over.

 

The doorbell rang. Ruan Feng loosened the zipper of his down jacket, revealing his chin. The door lock clicked, and he took off his sunglasses, looking up to see Lu Wen opening the door.

 

Ruan Feng quickly glanced at the nameplate on the door, confirming it was indeed 6206, and hesitantly greeted, “Lu Wen, here to visit?”

 

Lu Wen pulled the corners of his mouth into a smile—two parts awkward, three parts guilty, and five parts of lingering surprise, all combining into a wholly forced expression.

 

The room was warm. Ruan Feng took off his down jacket but didn’t dare hang it up, instead holding it in his arms, pretending to be a guest. He paced into the living room, where Qu Yanting sat squarely in the center of the sofa, his upturned eyes glancing over, as cold as ice falling from the eaves.

 

Ruan Feng shrank his neck, recalling his childhood mistakes. Qu Yanting had always been like this—back then, he would act spoiled, rush up to kiss his face, and even imitate public service ads by offering to wash his feet.

 

But now, with Lu Wen present, he couldn’t even call him “brother.” Ruan Feng suppressed his thoughts and said, “Teacher Qu, I’m here.”

 

The incident had happened at a hot pot restaurant. It was just the two of them, but the emotions were so intense they nearly shook the heavens. Qu Yanting had stared wide-eyed, and Lu Wen was at a loss for words. If it hadn’t been for the waiter coming in to add broth, they might have confronted each other until dawn in the steaming heat.

 

Qu Yanting had said he would treat, paid the bill, compensated for the broken teacup, and left the restaurant, wrapped in his coat. In the taxi, he called Ruan Feng.

 

Lu Wen had stuck to the opposite side of the car door the entire ride, curling his 1.88-meter frame, acting awkwardly with his face pressed against the window, his cheeks flushed, catching the driver’s frequent glances in the rearview mirror.

 

When they arrived at the hotel, Qu Yanting strode ahead while Lu Wen hung his head, trailing behind. Qu swiped open the door to the suite, grabbed Lu Wen by the collar, and dragged him into room 6206.

 

Lu Wen didn’t dare enter the room. He stood in the narrow entryway, imprisoned in that small space, facing the wall in self-reflection. The carnations in the vase had withered, a reflection of his current state.

 

Qu Yanting had moved in and out, ignoring him, washing his face, changing clothes, and brewing a cup of Dragon Well tea, waiting for the other person involved to arrive.

 

Now that everyone was present, Lu Wen felt uncomfortable all over, while Ruan Feng looked completely innocent, the two of them like twin flowers, standing awkwardly in the living room—one blooming foolishly, the other naively, hard to tell them apart.

 

Qu Yanting’s tightly pressed lips parted, making things clear: “Stop pretending.”

 

Ruan Feng didn’t understand for a moment and reflexively glanced at Lu Wen. Lu Wen, realizing things slowly, thought Ruan Feng’s eyes resembled Qu Yanting’s a bit—slightly upturned at the corners, though his overall contour was rounder.

 

Ruan Feng gave up on thinking, “What’s going on?”

 

Qu Yanting answered, “He already knows about my relationship with you.”

 

Ruan Feng was stunned, so much so that he couldn’t quite believe it. “No way. We hid it so well…”

 

Qu Yanting said, “I told him.”

 

Ruan Feng’s expression became even more shocked, but his body reacted instinctively. He tossed his jacket aside, sat down next to Qu Yanting, and picked up the tea to take a sip and quench his thirst.

 

After drinking, he curiously asked, “Why…”

 

Qu Yanting turned his head, framing both the person sitting beside him and the one standing by the coffee table within his line of sight, speaking to them both at once, “If I didn’t tell him, even jumping into the Jialing River wouldn’t clear my name.”

 

Lu Wen’s face burned. He opened his mouth, trying to salvage the situation but feared saying something even more irreparable.

 

Ruan Feng was still confused, “Brother, what do you mean?”

 

“You still have the nerve to ask?” Qu Yanting flipped his hand and pinched Ruan Feng’s thigh, his long, slender fingers digging in. The muscles on the back of his hand tensed beautifully. Ruan Feng screamed in pain and jumped up from the sofa.

 

Lu Wen remembered Qu Yanting gripping his wrist and fearfully pleaded for him not to leave.

 

Ruan Feng steadied himself, “Brother…”

 

Qu Yanting said, “How did you explain it to him back then?”

 

Ruan Feng was at a loss, obediently repeating his explanation. As Qu Yanting’s expression grew darker, his voice grew softer, and he edged closer to Lu Wen.

 

After finishing, Ruan Feng turned his head and asked, “Lu Wen, what’s going on exactly?”

 

From the moment Qu Yanting had shouted “blood brothers,” the shock in Lu Wen’s eyes had remained like a permanent mark, never fading. Even now, he clung to a sliver of hope, hoping for a turnaround.

 

Lu Wen rasped, “Ruan, are you and Teacher Qu really brothers?”

 

Ruan Feng answered, “Yes, we are.”

 

“Then why don’t you have the same last name?”

 

“I took my mother’s last name.”

 

“Why is his name so elaborate while yours is so plain?”

 

“My original name was Ruan Mengtang.”

 

“Hey, hold on.” Ruan Feng realized something. “How am I plain? Ruan Feng, Lu Wen—our names are on the same level.”

 

Lu Wen seemed not to hear, grabbing Ruan Feng’s hands like a sympathetic aid worker, his voice trembling, “What about everything you said in the hospital…”

 

Ruan Feng apologized, “Sorry, I made it all up.”

 

Lu Wen’s heart sank. No wonder, as the brother of a screenwriter, Ruan Feng had lied so smoothly it had made him nervous and uneasy. He let go of Ruan Feng’s hands, muttering, “You made my life so difficult.”

 

Ruan Feng still didn’t understand the whole situation, but feeling guilty for lying, he gripped Lu Wen’s shoulders as if sharing in his troubles, “So that’s why you haven’t been replying to my messages.”

 

Qu Yanting’s brow twitched, having gotten the story clear. He ordered Ruan Feng back to the bedroom.

 

Once the door was closed and the living room fell silent, the crystal chandelier cast a cold light. Qu Yanting’s eyes were equally cold. Now that their relationships were clarified, it was time to untangle the mess between the two of them.

 

“Sit down.”

 

Lu Wen obediently sat, his astonishment fading, leaving only deep embarrassment. It surged to his face, alternately turning red and pale like a hotpot split with two broths.

 

Qu Yanting asked, “Do you believe it now?”

 

Lu Wen’s head hung low, his neck feeling as if it had been broken. “I believe it.”

 

Qu Yanting began to settle the score: “Before this, what did you think my relationship with Ruan was?”

 

Lu Wen remained silent, and the room followed suit. Terrified, he straightened his neck and met Qu Yanting’s eyes, which were as deep as a lake, the silent pressure more intense than any interrogation.

 

“I thought,” he couldn’t bear it anymore, “you were… his sugar daddy.”

 

Qu Yanting leaned against the cushion, relaxed, his expressions conveying indifference. “You even know what a sugar daddy is?”

 

Lu Wen hung his head, enduring the mockery. He reasonably suspected that after this, in Qu Yanting’s eyes, his brain held less content than a plate of pig brains.

 

Qu Yanting wasn’t in the mood for slow questioning, “Tell me everything.”

 

Confess and be lenient. Lu Wen clenched his knees, made up his mind, and gritted his teeth: “I thought you had a thing for me and wanted to take advantage of me!”

 

“That night when I stayed with you during the IV drip, when I went to check my blood pressure, my heart rate was fast because of you. You scared me!”

 

“You sent me ‘520’ (I love you). In all my life, that was the first time I received such a message, of course, I was excited.”

 

“Ruan Feng asked me to bring you grapes. It was painful for me too! You ate them like they were delicious, but they burned my hands!”

 

“That night when I went to your room, I was scared out of my mind, afraid you’d force me into something or make me submit. But things never go as planned, and I accidentally turned on the projector, and that pissed you off!”

 

Scene after scene flashed in his mind. Lu Wen poured out all the emotions that had been bottled up in his chest these days. He confessed everything, from his stiff neck to his raised chin, as the desolate feelings gradually turned into a hint of grievance.

 

Hadn’t he been just as shaken?

 

Who asked Ruan Feng to hug him when he first came through the door? Who asked Qu Yanting to smile so softly and intimately? And why did these two brothers meet so late at night?

 

Lu Wen, feeling wronged, asked, “I admit I was wrong, but was it all my fault? You being so good to me, that can’t just be in my imagination, right? Even Ruan Feng could spin such a touching story, so can you blame me for misunderstanding?”

 

Qu Yanting’s temples throbbed: “So now this is my fault?”

 

“At least you misled me!” Lu Wen shouted, “Out of all the trailers, you only rode in mine. During the car accident scene, you touched my face. That night at the pool, you ruffled my hair! My brain’s a mess because you messed it up! And the note I gave you, you’ve kept it this whole time—those carnations are wilted to death, but you’re still keeping them!”

 

Qu Yanting’s eyes burned with anger: “Are you trying to act shameless?”

 

“I’m just stating the facts!” Lu Wen stubbornly raised his head. “In the taxi, you said I was just like Ruan Feng. Do you know how much that messed me up?”

 

Qu Yanting finally lost his patience: “That’s because I see you as a younger brother!”

 

Lu Wen fell silent instantly.

 

Staring blankly, the emotions swelling in his chest were pricked by a needle, suddenly deflating. Qu Yanting saw him as a younger brother. That made everything make sense.

 

He couldn’t say anything more. He felt like a deflated balloon.

 

After a long pause, Lu Wen gave up all arguments and admitted defeat without any resistance, apologizing: “I’m sorry, Teacher Qu.”

 

Qu Yanting raised his hand, massaging his brow with a knuckle. The time he’d spent with Lu Wen had been a period filled with the most misunderstandings of his entire life.

 

He didn’t want to spend any more energy on such absurdities and said, “I hope you can keep my relationship with Xiao Feng a secret.”

 

“I will,” Lu Wen promised.

 

The clock on the wall was nearing midnight, and a wave of exhaustion washed over Qu Yanting. He gave Lu Wen his release: “Go home.”

 

Lu Wen could finally escape, but his movements were slow, almost mechanical. It was all a misunderstanding—Qu Yanting and Ruan Feng weren’t involved like that, and Qu Yanting didn’t want to take advantage of him; he even saw him as a younger brother.

 

So why didn’t he feel any relief?

 

After all this, would Qu Yanting still want anything to do with him?

 

Lu Wen stopped in his tracks, hope struggling with anxiety. He couldn’t keep the question to himself and had to ask: “Teacher Qu, can we still interact like before?”

 

Qu Yanting responded lightly, “I’m afraid not.”

 

Lu Wen nodded and dragged himself out. As he reached the doorway, his tall figure halted again, and then decisively, he turned back.

 

He rushed in front of Qu Yanting and crouched beside his knees, having lost all dignity. What was left to care about? He looked up, pleading: “I’ll never do something so stupid again. Can you forgive me?”

 

Qu Yanting reached to pull him up. “Get up first.”

 

“This… this is my limit,” Lu Wen stammered, panicking. “I can’t do anything more ridiculous. Please give me one more chance.”

 

Qu Yanting was momentarily speechless. This person kneeling here, begging for his forgiveness, was the same one who had stood guard outside the bathroom to protect him. The shock and frustration of the night had melted into a pool of helplessness.

 

Qu Yanting grabbed Lu Wen’s arm and pulled him to stand. The space in front of the sofa was small, and they were standing so close.

 

He said, “It’s because I’m leaving.”

 

Lu Wen opened his mouth, but the words seemed to vanish into thin air. He had forgotten that Qu Yanting was only here temporarily, once his work was done, he’d be gone.

 

He had no right to ask him to stay.

 

Lu Wen didn’t even remember how he made it back to Room 6207.

 

It was late. Qu Yanting turned off all the lights and climbed into bed, curling up with his knees bent, his back pressed against the headboard. He was tired but not sleepy after the exhausting night.

 

Qu Yanting set his phone to silent and saw a notification of an unread WeChat message. It was from Yu Nan, confirming his flight and upcoming work arrangements.

 

He stared at it for a while without replying, then backed out.

 

Below Yu Nan’s message was Lu Wen’s, a childish cartoon avatar with his real name as the username. Qu Yanting clicked on it and changed the note, renaming him “Dunce.”

 

His WeChat Moments were carefully grouped into categories by closeness and professional circles, but his thumb hovered indecisively when it came to Lu Wen, unsure of where to place him.

 

Qu Yanting skipped the grouping step and opened Lu Wen’s photo album.

 

There were a lot of handsome and cocky photos, mostly from a few months ago. Since joining the crew, Lu Wen hadn’t posted any pictures.

 

However, there was plenty of text content.

 

Qu Yanting scrolled down and stopped at the first post, dated on the day Lu Wen joined the crew. It read: “I’ve never appreciated a Porsche so much.”

 

The timestamp suggested he posted it while in the car.

 

The second night, after the embarrassing incident at the launch party, Lu Wen had posted a self-reflective status: “Today, I said something that would make Lu Zhanqing want to kill me if he heard it.”

 

On the day Qu Yanting gave him acting advice, Lu Wen posted in frustration: “Any of my overseas fans here?”

 

After walking in on Ruan Feng and Qu Yanting, Lu Wen left a simple lament: “Damn it!” To avoid accidentally revealing too much, he had added a note: “Comments disabled for this post.”

 

Then, another post: “Bluffed my way past Liberation Monument today.”

 

“Night shifts are exhausting, so here’s a song.”

 

“You might not believe it, but I get paid more than a certain popular idol.”

 

“Things happened so suddenly, I stole a flower from the hotel.”

 

“Damn, turns out persimmons help with coughs. If people like that can get into grad school, it’s no wonder I made it to a top-tier university.”

 

“Why does Lu Zhanqing have to call out of the blue? What’s the point of scaring his own son to death?”

 

That was the last post. Qu Yanting did the math. It had been since that night Lu Wen accompanied him to the hospital and misunderstood the situation that he had gone quiet.

 

He chuckled. Lu Wen used to post for every little thing, so these past few days must have been tough on him.

 

Qu Yanting exited the photo album. Lu Wen’s profile picture still showed up in the WeChat feed. When he refreshed it, a new status appeared from Lu Wen, posted just a few seconds ago.

 

“I really need to eat some pig brains,” it read.

 

Qu Yanting couldn’t help but laugh.

 

Perhaps it was a professional habit, but he noticed the comma at the end of the sentence, which made him feel a bit uncomfortable. Half-jokingly, half-critically, he commented: “Change it to a period and repost.”

 

His silent phone showed no sound notification, but a message banner briefly flashed at the top.

 

Curious, Qu Yanting returned to the chat list and saw a new unread message from Lu Wen at the top. He opened it.

 

Lu Wen had sent: “Because I deleted the second half of the sentence.”

 

Qu Yanting asked: “What was the second half?”

 

After a long pause, the typing indicator appeared, then disappeared. Just as the screen was about to go dark, Lu Wen’s reply came through: “Could you maybe leave a bit later?”

 

Qu Yanting stared at his phone in a daze in the dim light.

 

In Room 6207, several walls away, Lu Wen tossed and turned before finally sending that sentence. Before hitting send, he had deleted the second half. He hadn’t expected Qu Yanting to comment, and in a moment of impulsiveness, the words had slipped out.

 

It was too late to retract it. Lu Wen punched himself lightly, trying to cover it up: “What I meant was… could you maybe watch one more of my scenes?”

 

Several long seconds passed.

 

Qu Yanting replied: “Okay.”

 

After replying, Qu Yanting reopened Yu Nan’s contact and typed: “Flight postponed, put all scheduled work on hold for now.”