Crossover Actors - Chapter 38

Lu Wen had already concluded that the relationship between Qu Yanting and Ye Shan, and Ye Xiaowu, was more than just that of a creator and their characters. He was itching to figure out which parts were adaptations and which were personal experiences.

 

But he couldn’t ask. Qu Yanting’s tightly guarded heart was a scar from an old wound. As an observer, whether intentionally or unintentionally, any act of probing would be like tearing open that wound—a ruthless violation of boundaries.

 

Today, he had accidentally touched Qu Yanting’s pain, leading to this situation, which served as the biggest lesson.

 

Lu Wen couldn’t tell whether it was more guilt or more heartache, and he wasn’t sure if he would ever see the day when Qu Yanting would willingly open up to him.

 

All he knew was that Qu Yanting would be leaving tomorrow.

 

His hand brushed down Qu Yanting’s back, warmth transmitting through the thin shirt. Lu Wen wasn’t comforting him; he was expressing sincerity: “Teacher Qu, I might have appeared late in your life, but whether you see me as a friend or a younger brother, let me stay on stage a little longer.”

 

The body beneath his palm stirred slightly. Qu Yanting slowly lifted his head. His face was clean, his eyes rimmed red, and though he had lost control, he had held back from crying.

 

“You’re leaving tomorrow, and the only link between us will be a phone number,” Lu Wen said calmly and earnestly. “Don’t delete me, don’t block me, and don’t hide your less personal posts from me on your Moments.”

 

Qu Yanting’s voice was hoarse as he responded, “Okay.”

 

Lu Wen tightened his arms, sliding them down Qu Yanting’s shoulders and wrapping his hands, warm against his stomach, around his. “I won’t bother you, and I definitely won’t make you sad again like I did today.”

 

Qu Yanting promised again, “Okay.”

 

“You blame me for showing up late,” Lu Wen whispered, “so don’t let our meeting be just a passing encounter.”

 

Qu Yanting was stunned, his response delayed, and the third “okay” got stuck in his throat.

 

Lu Wen didn’t get a response, but he didn’t press further or backtrack. After waiting a moment, he rolled up the loose sleeve and moved on. “The sleeves are wet again.”

 

The magnolia bracelet on Qu Yanting’s wrist had suffered too, its petals scattered. Qu Yanting took it off and wrapped it in a tissue. It was a farewell gift, and he wouldn’t throw it away easily.

 

Lu Wen had a scene to shoot in Room 302, so Qu Yanting told him to go prepare.

 

“Today’s my fault. I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” Lu Wen was deeply apologetic, estimating that Qu Yanting was about to return to the hotel. “Go back and get some good rest.”

 

Qu Yanting, having lost control and vented, and now comforted to some extent, lowered his eyebrows, rolled up the damp parts of his clothes, and by the time he lifted his head again, he wore an expression of calm composure.

 

“I’ll head over in a bit,” he said. “See you later.”

 

Other than the brief interlude, today wasn’t much different from any other day. By nightfall, the Porsche and the nanny van left for the hotel, one after the other.

 

The vase by the doorframe had been changed to hold a new arrangement: a white cyclamen and four branches of ginkgo, the yellow ginkgo leaves making the white flowers look even purer. Qu Yanting lingered a moment to admire them.

 

As they each opened their doors, Lu Wen spoke first: “Teacher Qu, get some rest.”

 

“Mm.” Qu Yanting replied, “Good night.”

 

On his last night in Chongqing, Qu Yanting packed his suitcase and stood by the window, looking out at the boats on the river one last time.

 

Were there water lilies in the water? Would they meet in the currents and get entangled, unable to separate?

 

The thought passed through his mind as he washed and dried Lu Wen’s shirt, neatly folding it and placing it at the foot of the bed.

 

The night felt long, yet a good dream never lasts. By the time morning came, Qu Yanting had everything prepared and was ready to leave at 8 a.m. sharp. Ruan Feng’s nanny van was already waiting in the hotel parking lot.

 

Across the hall, Lu Wen leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, fully dressed. His long legs were crossed in front of him. As the door to Room 6206 opened, he pulled out a hand and waved, “Hey.”

 

Qu Yanting, surprised, asked, “Why are you standing outside?”

 

“I’m waiting for you.” Lu Wen walked over and grabbed his suitcase. “I’m taking you to the airport.”

 

“Xiaofeng is already taking me,” Qu Yanting said.

 

“I know,” Lu Wen replied, so he hadn’t informed the driver. “Can’t I come too? You said I’m like your younger brother, right? Shouldn’t every brother be treated equally?”

 

Qu Yanting had no way to refute this, so he agreed. Before leaving, he returned Lu Wen’s shirt, which he had originally planned to have his housekeeper send over. Lu Wen opened the door, casually placing the shirt on the cabinet by the entrance.

 

After checking out, they took the elevator to the parking lot. The elevator doors acted like mirrors, and with his back to the door, Lu Wen yawned. Only then did Qu Yanting realize and asked, “How long were you waiting in the hallway?”

 

“Ten minutes,” Lu Wen deflected.

 

Qu Yanting didn’t believe him and paused. “Did you know it rained this morning?”

 

“Impossible, when I woke up at four—” Lu Wen stopped mid-sentence, realizing he’d fallen into Qu Yanting’s trap. He licked his lips, trying to change the subject. “Hey, isn’t that bag a Phantom? Super hard to get.”

 

“Lu Wen,” Qu Yanting called him, as if joking, but with a serious tone, “you’re the kind of person that’s super hard to find.”

 

It wasn’t until the elevator doors opened, and the cold air from the underground parking lot rushed in, that Lu Wen snapped out of Qu Yanting’s rare and precious compliment.

 

They found the nanny van. Ruan Feng and Qu Yanting sat in the front row, and Lu Wen in the second. The driver was someone Ruan Feng knew well, not affiliated with the production crew.

 

“Lu Wen-ge, you’re here too.”

 

Faced with the real brother, Lu Wen, the “unofficial brother,” felt a little guilty. He stammered, “I’m just tagging along… Teacher Qu taught me a lot. I wanted to send him off.”

 

“Why so formal?” Ruan Feng giggled. “That night in the living room when you two argued, I heard everything.”

 

Lu Wen’s face turned red. “Come on, I thought you went to bed!”

 

Ruan Feng replied, “I couldn’t sleep without my own pillow.”

 

As the engine started, Lu Wen fell into a silent, embarrassed stupor, sinking into the seatback like he was part of the background. In the front, the two fluffy heads of the real brothers were already drawn to each other by their sibling bond.

 

Ruan Feng hugged Qu Yanting. “Ge, can’t you stay a few more days?”

 

“I’ve already delayed so many things,” Qu Yanting said. “I was supposed to leave yesterday.”

 

Ruan Feng’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “But you didn’t delay it for me. I heard you went to supervise the A team’s scenes yesterday. Who were you worried about?”

 

Qu Yanting answered directly, “The one behind us.”

 

Lu Wen felt a cold sweat break out. Despite the clarity in their relationship, he still felt like he was caught in the middle of some emotional entanglement.

 

Ruan Feng said, “Ge, when I finish my scenes, I’ll come stay with you for a few days.”

 

Qu Yanting replied, “Alright, I’ll cook something nice for you.”

 

Ruan Feng added, “I’ll bring back some hotpot base, okay?”

 

“Whatever you want,” Qu Yanting reminded him. “It’s getting cold, so stay warm. Don’t stay up late except for night shoots, and eat your meals on time. Be good and finish your scenes properly.”

 

Sitting behind them, Lu Wen listened to the brotherly care Qu Yanting showed Ruan Feng. It was both as an older brother and in place of their parents. The thoughtfulness and closeness stirred a sense of jealousy in Lu Wen, one that only an outsider would feel.

 

Suddenly, Qu Yanting turned around and said to him, “The same goes for you.”

 

That burst of bitterness was unexpectedly sweetened by a large cube of sugar, catching Lu Wen off guard. He stood there dumbfounded, unable to organize a response before Qiu Yanting turned away.

 

As they neared the airport, Ruan Feng said, “Brother, I don’t want you to leave.”

 

It was a bit of playful whining, and Lu Wen quickly chimed in, “Me too.”

 

Qiu Yanting ignored their banter. As the car slowed down and pulled over, he opened his bag to check his documents and said without looking up, “Let’s stop here. It’s crowded at the airport. I don’t want to be recognized when I get out.”

 

With the farewell imminent, Ruan Feng chattered on about all the little things—none of which Qiu Yanting needed to worry about, just warm and comforting words. He had always been like this, soothing his older brother who rarely revealed his true feelings.

 

Finally, when Ruan Feng ran out of things to say, he added, “Say hello to Commander Huang for me.”

 

Lu Wen was puzzled. “Who’s Commander Huang?”

 

“My cat,” Qiu Yanting replied. A plump, proud orange tabby. Qiu Yanting let out a low, short sound, mimicking the cat’s meow.

 

Half of Lu Wen’s body felt weak, as if it had been scratched by a cat’s paw.

 

He wasn’t good at being playful, nor particularly considerate, and he didn’t know much about Qiu Yanting’s personal life. So, using his own way of showing care, he got out of the car first and, rather forcefully, said, “No one will recognize me. I’m walking you in.”

 

It was the familiar Jiangbei Airport, the place where they had first met.

 

If time could rewind to that day—if Qiu Yanting hadn’t made Lu Wen get out of the car, and if Lu Wen had known who he really was—how would everything that followed have played out?

 

The terminal was as busy as ever, just like it had been for the last decade. After getting the boarding pass, Lu Wen accompanied Qiu Yanting to a less crowded spot. Though it wasn’t a long farewell, it still felt bittersweet.

 

“Um, are you dressed warmly enough?” Lu Wen asked awkwardly. “It’s going to get cold in the north. Don’t catch a fever again.”

 

Qiu Yanting replied, “I’m fine.”

 

“Did you have breakfast? Are you hungry?” Lu Wen asked again.

 

Qiu Yanting gently pushed him, his voice urging, “Are you going to ask me about every little detail? You’ve got ten minutes—focus on the important things.”

 

Lu Wen couldn’t figure out what was most important. To him, it all seemed important. He hesitated for a moment and then said, “The next scenes are really tough. With you gone, who’s going to guide me?”

 

The director’s team had plenty of people, but Lu Wen was playing dumb. Like a mischievous student confessing his admiration to a teacher, his unspoken message was clear—I need you the most.

 

Qiu Yanting, understanding but unwilling to expose the truth, asked instead, “Do you really want to perform well in this drama?”

 

Lu Wen nodded earnestly. He wanted it more than anything. Initially, it was for his own career, but as time went on, it became for everyone else’s hard work, for Ye Shan and Ye Xiaowu, and now, for the person who had written the story.

 

Qiu Yanting gave him advice with Lu Wen’s best interests in mind. “Doing a good job in the drama is your duty. All other pressures beyond that, you need to let go. With your talent and dedication, the results won’t disappoint you.”

 

Lu Wen nodded again. “I’ll remember your words, Teacher Qiu.”

 

Finally sharing something he hadn’t told anyone else, Qiu Yanting softly confided, “This drama was written many years ago. It’s my real debut work, and producing it is a way for me to leave a lasting memento for myself.”

 

Lu Wen felt incredibly lucky. Through this drama, he had met Qiu Yanting, and now, his presence would forever be a part of Qiu Yanting’s cherished memories.

 

The announcements for flights echoed through the building, making time feel like it was slipping away too quickly. Qiu Yanting checked his watch; it was almost time to go. There was no need for drawn-out, sentimental farewells between grown adults. He smiled gently, gave Lu Wen a pat on the shoulder, and prepared to leave.

 

Suddenly, Lu Wen blurted out, “I haven’t said something important!”

 

Qiu Yanting, his expression briefly tightening, urged with a hint of exasperation, “You’ve got one minute.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Lu Wen spoke in the bustling Jiangbei Airport, his voice clear and firm as he confessed, “Teacher Qiu, I don’t have a girlfriend at all!”

 

Qiu Yanting’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Why are you shouting…”

 

Without missing a beat, Lu Wen hurriedly continued, “I don’t have a date either! I never got the nurse’s number! That ‘baby’ who called me that night—it was just an old friend, and we broke ties right after!”

 

His voice loud and insistent, in stark contrast to Qiu Yanting’s calm, the older man replied, “And what about that night at the monument…”

 

“It’s just a monument!” Lu Wen responded. “There was no ex-girlfriend I walked around it with three times, no current girlfriend either. It was all nonsense!”

 

His minute was up. Having confessed everything, Lu Wen stepped back, not expecting any response from Qiu Yanting, yet dreading that he might ask why he was explaining all this.

 

Lu Wen waved, tightly pressing his lips to keep from saying “goodbye.”

 

If they were truly going to meet again, when Lu Wen had said he didn’t want a fleeting encounter, Qiu Yanting wouldn’t have swallowed that one word—“okay.”

 

“Safe travels, Teacher Qiu.”

 

“Stop waving, open your hand.”

 

Qiu Yanting ordered, and when Lu Wen hesitantly opened his hand, he quickly closed the distance and embraced him.

 

Rubbing his head would’ve made him dumber, so Qiu Yanting gently rubbed the smooth nape of Lu Wen’s neck instead.

 

The story Qiu Yanting had written was merely a fantasy constructed with words. With his face close to Lu Wen’s ear, Qiu Yanting whispered, “Thank you for making my fantasy real.”

 

As the embrace ended and Qiu Yanting stepped back, moving farther away and blending into the flow of people, Lu Wen stood frozen for a long, long time. Not until Qiu Yanting was out of sight and the plane had flown into the clouds, as if taking all these memories with it, did he finally leave.

 

Back in the car, on the way back, Lu Wen and Ruan Feng sat side by side in the first row, leaning against each other like two abandoned souls.

 

Lu Wen took out his phone, logged into Weibo, and, after what felt like an eternity, finally followed Ruan Feng back. He also added him on WeChat.

 

Ruan Feng asked, “Lu Wen, are you heading back to the set?”

 

There was a night shoot tonight, starting at dusk. Lu Wen had to head back to the hotel first, as he’d been up since 4 a.m. and needed a nap.

 

At the hotel, after getting out of the car, Lu Wen slowly took the elevator up to the 62nd floor. Room 6206 was open, the housekeeper inside cleaning up. The tea had cooled, and soon, new guests would check in.

 

After closing the door, Lu Wen inserted the key card and changed into slippers. On the hallway cabinet lay the shirt, neatly folded, with a faint scent of laundry detergent.

 

He held the shirt in his hands and carried it into the closet. It should be hung up to prevent wrinkles. He shook it out, and as the sleeves and hem unfolded, a small golden leaf fluttered down.

 

“Huh?” Lu Wen bent down to pick it up.

 

It was a small white card tucked inside the shirt, no larger than a palm, with a brightly colored ginkgo leaf affixed to the bottom corner.

 

Holding the card in his hands, Lu Wen’s heart, which had been lifeless since leaving the airport, suddenly began racing. The black letters on the white paper were written in Qiu Yanting’s elegant handwriting. It was a poem by Nabokov:

 

_Golden ginkgo leaf,  

Musk grapes,  

Shaped like half-spread wings,  

A butterfly of yore._

 

Lu Wen clutched the paper, reading and rereading it, feeling both ecstatic and bewildered. His mind was a jumble. For someone who could misunderstand even the simplest of things, Qiu Yanting had actually left him a poem!

 

Rushing out of the closet, Lu Wen scrambled to find his phone, ready to look up the meaning of the poem. As he rushed around, the breeze lifted the corner of the paper, revealing two lines written on the back.

 

Turning over the card and revealing the back, Lu Wen paused. He carefully flipped the paper over. It was still Qiu Yanting’s handwriting, but the strokes were restrained and composed, each one carrying an unknown intensity.

 

As if anticipating this moment, the first line read: “Idiot, you don’t understand, do you?”

 

When writing it, Qiu Yanting had gazed out into the boundless night, watching the swirling currents of the Jialing River, his mind recalling the words, “Don’t let us be just passing acquaintances.”

 

Lu Wen couldn’t tear his eyes away.

 

The next line was Qiu Yanting’s belated answer:

 

“When we meet again, I’ll explain it to you.”