The lights above suddenly went out. Wen Yuhan frowned, looking at Pei Shaocheng with a calm expression.
Pei Shaocheng crossed his legs and leaned back on the sofa, pouring himself a glass of wine just like last night, and said slowly to Wen Yuhan, "Your room is so dark, I'm afraid you don't like bright light."
Wen Yuhan tightened her grip on the pen slightly, then exhaled and nodded, as if to say "whatever," and continued writing.
Pei Shaocheng stared intently at Wen Yuhan's back, which intensified the sense of pressure he felt.
Wen Yuhan felt as if a million ants were crawling on his back. The dim light made it impossible for him to see the words on the paper, and the pain in his wrists caused a layer of fine sweat to cover his forehead.
The dripping sound landed on the manuscript paper, blurring the writing into a mess.
A polite knock came from outside the door, accompanied by Yi Li's soft and gentle voice: "Senior brother, are you there? I brought you some cherries and lychees."
Pei Shaocheng glanced at Wen Yuhan again, put his wine glass on the coffee table, got up and walked slowly towards the entrance, opening the door.
Yi Li was wearing a white cashmere sweater, and the fruit he was holding was crystal clear. Standing outside, he looked like an angel who had stepped out of a religious painting.
Upon seeing Pei Shaocheng, Yi Li raised his face with a shy yet happy smile, raised the fruit plate even higher, and said, "I heard that lychees are abundant here, so I asked the ladies in the makeup team to bring some for me..." At this point, he suddenly realized that the main light in Pei Shaocheng's room was not on, frowned, and asked, "Did I disturb your rest?"
A flicker of unreadable emotion crossed Pei Shaocheng's eyes. Finally, he stepped aside to make way for Yi Li and said, "No, come in."
Yi Li had only intended to deliver the fruit to Pei Shaocheng at the door, but he never expected that the other party would invite him into the room. He immediately smiled and said happily, "That's great! I have some questions about the role that I'd like to ask you, Senior Brother!"
Pei Shaocheng raised an eyebrow: "What a coincidence, Teacher Wen happens to be here too."
"What?" Yi Li was stunned.
Pei Shaocheng took another wine glass from the wine rack, poured a glass of red wine for Yi Li, and said, "Teacher Wen is revising your passage. Go and see if there are any problems. Just ask him directly."
As he spoke, he turned on the light. Wen Yuhan was momentarily blinded by the sudden brightness, and his pen landed on a period, leaving a black ink dot.
Pei Shaocheng walked up to Wen Yuhan, pulled out the part he was writing, quickly scanned it, and then handed it to Yi Li.
“Let’s play our next move,” Pei Shaocheng said in a deep voice.
Yi Li nodded and looked at the newly revised lines on the manuscript paper, quickly getting himself into the right mindset.
He took a deep breath, and when he opened his eyes again, his pupils were constricted in terror. He took half a step back, his voice trembling with fear and anger as he said:
"We haven't been in contact for many years, why should I bear the consequences of his mistakes?! Why?!"
Pei Shaocheng casually sat on the sofa, lit a cigarette, and leaned back, his lines already memorized:
"Because you are his son."
"I didn't!!" Yi Li cried hysterically. "He killed my mother! I saw him use my mother's blood to paint..."
Yi Li slowly knelt down, large tears rolling down his cheeks. He threw himself onto Pei Shaocheng's lap, looking up at him with a desperate, pleading smile.
"I'm getting married next week, and she's pregnant with our child. I told her we were going to the mall together tomorrow to buy things to decorate our new home... Please, let me go! You want to kill that man, don't you? I'll cooperate! I'll tell you anything you want to know about him! Please... let me go!"
Pei Shaocheng bent down, gently stroking Yi Li's cheek, his expression surprisingly compassionate, and sighed, "You shouldn't have told me these things..."
Yi Li's pupils constricted sharply. Pei Shaocheng let out a series of low, dark laughs and asked him softly, "You're saying you have a child?"
Yi Li seemed to suddenly realize something, and her body trembled even more violently: "No, don't touch them! No... how about this, I'll trade you something! How about a secret?! A secret about that man that no one knows!"
"Tell me about it," Pei Shaocheng asked with great interest.
"The paintings in the studio, those paintings have a specific order! They're the code to the secret room! Inside... inside, his beloved is imprisoned!" Yi Li gripped the script tightly, swallowing hard in sync with the character's reaction. "Do you remember the painting hanging in the very center of the studio... that's... that's..."
Yi Li's eyes flickered slightly as he squinted to decipher the newly revised lines in the script.
"It's 'Mary's Sheep'." Seeing that the other person was stuck, Pei Shaocheng gave him a line from the script.
"Yes! It's 'Mary's Sheep,' the woman holding the lamb in the painting, she..."
Yi Li paused again, and after a moment looked up at Pei Shaocheng and shook his head apologetically, "I'm sorry, senior brother, I... I couldn't see the lines very clearly."
On the script that Yi Li was holding, several parts of the dialogue were wet and blurred.
It was those few drops of sweat that Wen Yuhan had just shed.
"The woman holding the lamb in the painting is actually your elementary school music teacher. The first song she taught you was 'Mary's Little Lamb'..." Pei Shaocheng said, whistling a melody that sounded eerie and sinister in the large room.
This line was originally supposed to be Yi Li's, but Pei Shaocheng cleverly changed the referent, turning it into the assassin's words, and continued the dialogue.
“That day, your father went to your parent-teacher conference and saw this woman sitting by the organ through the window, wearing a long blue dress, playing this piece and teaching you to sing it. In that instant, he fell for her. He started to madly profess his love for this woman behind your mother's back, taking her back to the studio, making love to her day and night…” Pei Shaocheng closed his eyes, a rather regretful smile on his face, “I’ve heard this story from him too many times, it’s hardly a secret anymore.”
Even if it's newly written, you only need to glance at it to memorize it perfectly.
This is perhaps the tacit understanding etched into the bones of Pei Shaocheng and Wen Yuhan, which is quite laughable, yet unchangeable.
Yi Li looked intently at Pei Shaocheng, his eyes shining brightly.
Sure enough, he was still the same aloof king on the stage. No matter what situation he encountered, as long as Pei Shaocheng was there, he could easily resolve it... How could he not yearn for such a Pei Shaocheng?
"The lines have been changed, it's not your fault you can't remember them." Pei Shaocheng slowly opened his eyes and pulled Yi Li up from beside his feet. He then took the script from Yi Li's hand, stood up, walked to Wen Yuhan's side, and threw the script in front of him. Pointing at the sweat-smudged writing on the paper with his index finger, he said coldly:
"Rewrite this page."
...
Chapter 36
Wen Yuhan looked at Pei Shaocheng, neither directly refusing nor nodding in agreement. His right hand, holding the pen, was still trembling as he leaned over the table, and he used his other hand to hold it down and control it.
Yi Li glanced at Wen Yuhan and then at Pei Shaocheng, feeling that he should say something to break the awkwardness, but afraid of saying the wrong thing, he carefully tugged at Pei Shaocheng's sleeve and said softly, "Um, senior brother and senior Wen, would you like to eat some lychees first..."
"Rewrite it." Pei Shaocheng didn't even look at Yi Li, staring at Wen Yuhan as he coldly repeated.
Wen Yuhan pressed her thumb against the nib of the pen, letting the sharper pain dilute the burning sensation in her wrist.
A moment later, he nodded slightly, a faint smile playing on his lips, crumpled the sweat-soaked manuscript into a ball, and tossed it into the wastebasket at his feet. Then he took out a new sheet of paper and began writing again.
The trembling of his wrist made his handwriting lose its usual elegance, but Wen Yuhan's face remained calm and composed.
The pen scratched softly on the paper, and the fine sweat that kept seeping out stuck a few strands of his hair to his neck.
Pei Shaocheng silently looked away, returned to the sofa, and sat down, crossing his legs.
The slight pleasure he had felt from his previous revenge had long since vanished. Looking at Wen Yuhan's pale face, his chest began to tighten and feel suffocated again, as if it were an incurable tightness.
Pei Shaocheng bit his tongue, cursing himself inwardly for being such a spineless coward.
A crystal-clear lychee was offered to Pei Shaocheng's lips. He looked up and met Yi Li's watery eyes.
Yi Li: "Senior brother, try one, it's very sweet."
Pei Shaocheng thanked him, took the lychee with his hand, and put it in his mouth. The sweetness of the juice mingled with the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, and the flavor wasn't very pleasant.
Yi Li peeled another lychee, intending to give it to Wen Yuhan, but Pei Shaocheng casually said, "Don't give it to him, he's allergic to lychees."
After saying this, Pei Shaocheng immediately wanted to raise his hand and slap himself. It seemed that Wen Yuhan's lifestyle habits and dietary preferences were deeply ingrained in his subconscious, and thinking of the other person had become an instinct for him.
Wen Yuhan put down his pen, the light in his eyes flickering slightly, and felt a dryness in his throat. He reached for the cigarette case beside him, took out a cigarette, put it in his mouth, and stretched his sore shoulders.
Just as he was about to light the cigarette with a lighter, Pei Shaocheng kicked his chair with his long leg from behind.
Wen Yuhan leaned forward, and the cigarette almost fell out of his mouth.
“Yi Li can’t stand the smell of smoke.” Pei Shaocheng withdrew his leg and casually brushed the wrinkles off his trousers.
Wen Yuhan, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, smiled faintly and said, "Oh, sorry." He then picked up a lighter, stood up, and walked towards the balcony.
"Stop." Pei Shaocheng called out to Wen Yuhan again in a deep voice, looking him up and down, and said coldly, "Come here and give me a head massage."
Wen Yuhan narrowed his eyes upon hearing this. He was the one who had been working at his desk the whole time, so why was he the one who was tired first?
Seeing that Wen Yuhan was standing still, Pei Shaocheng raised his eyebrows and said slowly, "I remember there isn't much to revise today, it won't take up too much of your time, Teacher Wen. If I'm comfortable, Teacher Wen can be more comfortable too."
Yi Li paused in peeling the lychee, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
In his memory, Pei Shaocheng had always been a polite, mature, and refined man. He would never lose his temper easily, much less deliberately make things difficult for others.
It seems he truly hates Wen Yuhan... Yi Li put the lychee into his mouth, chewed it carefully, and a strange joy arose in his heart.
Wen Yuhan took the cigarette out of his mouth, stuck it in the ashtray, and then went around to the back of the sofa.
Pei Shaocheng tilted his head back, scrutinizing Wen Yuhan with his dark eyes from this angle. Wen Yuhan avoided his gaze, rolled up his sleeves, and pressed his hand against Pei Shaocheng's temple.
His fingertips were icy cold and damp with sweat. Pei Shaocheng frowned slightly when he touched them.
"Close your eyes..."
Wen Yuhan's voice came from above Pei Shaocheng's head. At the same time, his hand was pressing and massaging Pei Shaocheng's acupoints.
Pei Shaocheng took a deep breath and smelled the ointment on Wen Yuhan's wrist. He stared intently at Wen Yuhan's movements, and as the other's fingers burrowed into his hair to massage his scalp, his Adam's apple bobbed heavily, and his eyes grew even darker.
Tick-tock.
Wen Yuhan's sweat dripped onto Pei Shaocheng's face, and he quickly whispered an apology, wiping it away for Pei Shaocheng.
The pain in her wrist was so intense that it was unbearable, causing Wen Yuhan's voice to tremble as she spoke.
Pei Shaocheng raised his hand and grabbed his wrist, tightening his grip. Wen Yuhan was instantly forced to let out a low groan.
"Wen Yuhan, does it hurt?" Pei Shaocheng asked, looking directly into Wen Yuhan's eyes.
Does it hurt you too?
Snow started falling outside the window, covering the balcony with a thin layer.
Wen Yuhan remembered that it was snowing on that day many years ago. She had just finished taking a shower and came out of the bathroom when she saw Pei Shaocheng lying on the sofa in the dark living room, reeking of alcohol.
Upon seeing Wen Yuhan, Pei Shaocheng's hazy eyes regained a sliver of clarity. He took Wen Yuhan's hand and said with a hoarse laugh, "Those businessmen from the south can really drink. But we finally reached an agreement with them. I'll take over their endorsement deals for the next year."
Wen Yuhan silently looked into Pei Shaocheng's shining eyes, slowly sat down beside him, lit a cigarette, and smoked it without saying a word before finally speaking in a low voice:
“You really don’t need to go through all this trouble for me.” Wen Yuhan’s gloomy expression was swallowed by darkness. “You belong on the screen and the stage. What if these low-class endorsement photos are dug up when you become famous in the future?”
Seeing that Pei Shaocheng did not answer for a long time, Wen Yuhan looked down at him and found that Pei Shaocheng had fallen asleep on her lap.
In his sleep, he was still mumbling incoherently, "Don't worry, I'm here..."
Wen Yuhan's eyes flickered, and the hand holding the cigarette froze in mid-air.
Then, he extinguished his cigarette and gently stroked Pei Shaocheng's hair.
"Shaocheng, let's go to bed." Wen Yuhan tried to lift Pei Shaocheng up and coaxed him gently.
Pei Shaocheng frowned, and gasped as if he were in great pain: "Hiss...headache."
Wen Yuhan's heart was stabbed again. She adjusted her sitting posture so that Pei Shaocheng could lie down more comfortably, and reached out to massage his temples.