"Paying extra attention..." Pei Shaocheng nodded with a low laugh, pulling out a tissue from the side to wipe his hands as he spoke, "The 'extra attention' you mean is deliberately causing trouble at the meeting? Or... that phone call you just made?"
Wu Wenchang's mustache trembled violently, and his back tingled.
Pei Shaocheng crumpled the paper into a ball, threw it into the wastepaper basket, and sighed, "I remember telling you after the last meeting that from now on, as long as I fulfill my responsibilities and take my share of the money... This isn't appropriate, is it?"
"Shao Cheng...this...this is all a misunderstanding!"
"Who told you to do that?"
Pei Shaocheng's tone suddenly turned cold, and Wu Wenchang was instantly terrified into silence.
He knew that no matter how he explained, it would be useless, so he could only bite the bullet and tell the truth:
“You know, our industry is all about the circle. Wen Yuhan is completely discredited in our circle. If I really follow him, I can forget about ever working as a screenwriter again.”
"What I'm asking is, who gave the order?"
“I can’t say,” Wu Wenchang said through gritted teeth. “In short, Wen Yuhan committed a major taboo in the industry and aroused public anger. As for the truth of the matter, it doesn’t really matter. Once the identity of the criminal is confirmed, if I don’t stand up for him, I’ll be complicit.”
The water pipes in this bathroom are leaking, and there's a constant dripping sound.
Neither Pei Shaocheng nor Wu Wenchang spoke again, and they stood facing each other for a long time.
Wu Wenchang glanced at Pei Shaocheng several times, noticing his gloomy expression as he stared at the falling water droplets, seemingly lost in thought.
After a long while, Pei Shaocheng finally nodded and said indifferently, "I understand."
He unlocked the bathroom door, gesturing for Wu Wenchang to make himself at home.
Wu Wenchang hurriedly slipped away, but after taking only a few steps, he heard Pei Shaocheng's deep voice behind him:
"Since Mr. Wu has concerns, then this production will not force you to continue 'going along with the crowd.'"
Wu Wenchang closed his eyes, thinking to himself that it was all over, that he had lost his job.
At the same time, he couldn't help but wonder, what exactly was the background of this young man surnamed Wen?
Even though he was covered in dirty water, he still managed to take on jobs without fail.
Just a second ago he was at odds with Pei Shaocheng, but the next second Pei Shaocheng stood on the same side as him.
Wow, they're not to be underestimated.
...
That night.
In an old residential area south of Yancheng, there are many old sycamore trees. At this time of year, they are in bloom, and when the wind blows, pale purple flowers fall down in a flurry, carrying a sweet fragrance.
The tree with the most abundant blossoms had its branches extending right up to the second-floor window. I squeezed through the window crack that had been deliberately left for it and peered into the room.
Beneath the window was a polished elmwood table, upon which sat a simple table lamp, an ashtray, a Montblanc pen, a computer, and a glass.
The main lights weren't on in the room; only the table lamp cast a warm yellow glow. A glass, half-filled with spirits, made a soft clinking sound as it was picked up.
"Teacher, didn't you just take painkillers?"
Xiao Yang pushed open the door and saw Wen Yuhan drinking alone under the light. He frowned and quickly walked over, trying to snatch the wine glass from Wen Yuhan's hand.
Wen Yuhan raised her hand and held the cup high. When she turned to look at Xiao Yang, her eyes were already somewhat unfocused.
He carefully examined it for a moment, then chuckled softly, "Xiao Yang..."
He then turned away from the other person's hand and continued drinking.
"Hey, don't drink it, Teacher Wen!"
Xiao Yang tried to stop him again, but dared not be too aggressive in her tone. As a result, during the struggle, she accidentally bumped into Wen Yuhan's elbow, causing the wine glass to tilt and spill all the remaining liquid onto the table.
Xiao Yang instinctively rushed to grab Wen Yuhan's computer.
Wen Yuhan, on the other hand, quickly grabbed the pen.
Xiao Yang keenly noticed the fleeting panic in Wen Yuhan's eyes, and her heart ached.
This pen has been with Wen Yuhan ever since the first time I met him, so it must have been a gift from someone very important.
However, Wen Yuhan never mentioned anything about the fountain pen to him. Although he cared a lot, he also knew that if Wen Yuhan didn't want to talk about it, he wouldn't be able to get the answer no matter how hard he asked.
"Oh, what a waste."
Wen Yuhan looked at the wine stains on the table and sighed in annoyance. He then reached for his cigarette case, picked out a cigarette, lit it, and turned his gaze to the tree branch that had crept into the room.
Xiao Yang silently watched Wen Yuhan, then turned around and took a rag from the bathroom to wipe the water stains dry.
The words lingered in his throat for a few moments before he finally couldn't help but ask, "Teacher, are you... unhappy?" He paused and then said, "The first draft was approved, we should celebrate properly."
With a cigarette dangling from his mouth, Wen Yuhan raised his empty glass without turning his head and said, "Ah, we're celebrating."
Xiao Yang pursed her lips and said no more.
He knew this was another way for Wen Yuhan to refuse to answer questions. After spending a long time with this person, he gradually figured out Wen Yuhan's way of dealing with people.
Although she seems to be all smiles and friendly to everyone, she actually keeps her distance from everyone.
A gentle evening breeze swept by, and the last flower on the branch trembled before falling onto the table.
Wen Yuhan took a deep drag of his cigarette and slowly exhaled, finally able to calmly face the figures that kept appearing before his eyes, fueled by the alcohol.
Perhaps it was because he had acted opposite Pei Shaocheng again today, after so long, that he suddenly remembered some things from the past...
Chapter 8
It seems to be the season when the paulownia flowers are in full bloom.
It was a very hot day. The air conditioning in the school's small theater was broken, and the enclosed space was filled with the smell of paint that hadn't dried on the curtains and the sweat of the crowd.
So much so that when Wen Yuhan pushed the door open, she almost suffocated again from the stench.
On stage, first-year performing arts students are rehearsing the play "The Afternoon of a Faun," adapted from a classic poem by the symbolist poet Mallarmé.
Pan, the god of shepherds, fell in love with a water spirit from the depths of the swamp and spent a passionate afternoon with her. However, when he awoke from his dream, he was unsure whether what had happened was real or an illusion.
Wen Yuhan found a seat towards the back. He was there to cast actors for his year-end production. Before this, he had searched throughout his sophomore, junior, and senior years, and even went to the graduate program, but he hadn't found anyone suitable for the role.
It wasn't until his roommate from the directing class mentioned a freshman in the acting department after he finished describing the character that Wen Yuhan realized he hadn't planned to use a freshman. After all, most of them lacked experience and were arrogant. However, when his roommate showed him the student's photo, Wen Yuhan realized almost instantly that this was the person he was looking for.
A murmur of discussion and gasps of surprise pulled Wen Yuhan back to reality.
Under the single spotlight of the stage, stood a tall and upright figure.
He wore black trousers and his upper body was painted with gray paint, which made his muscles look particularly impressive.
Under the cold white spotlight, it resembles an extremely exquisite sculpture.
"Pei Shaocheng—"
The frenzied shouts of the girls in the front row confirmed the identity of the person on stage—it was the person Wen Yuhan was looking for.
He raised an eyebrow with interest, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the seat.
The story should now be in its third act—
The water sprite roused Pan from his slumber, teasing him as he stepped into the lake to befriend it.
As enchanting music began, the "water sprite" draped in white gauze climbed onto the neck of the man named Pei Shaocheng and stood on tiptoe.
"Come with me, Pan," the elf whispered, beckoning the god of shoals to follow her.
Pei Shaocheng followed the movements set by the acting teacher, opening his arms to try and hug the elf's waist, but she dodged him.
“Come with me, Paine.”
Thus, they chased, dodged, chased, dodged.
Wen Yuhan held it in for a long time, but finally couldn't help but burst out laughing.
Is this... a game of eagle catching chicks?
The scene fell silent instantly. Wen Yuhan saw the person on stage narrow their eyes, a hint of displeasure showing on their cold face.
A middle-aged woman wearing glasses stood up from the crowd. When she realized that the person smiling was Wen Yuhan, the anger on her face turned into surprise, and then into joy.
"Who would dare to cause trouble in my class?" The woman pushed up her glasses, her reproachful tone barely concealing her affection.
"Teacher Luo." Wen Yuhan raised his hand to signal to her, then got up and walked to the woman's side.
"Why did you come here?" Teacher Luo patted the chair next to her, gesturing for Wen Yuhan to sit down.
Wen Yuhan smiled and said, "Choose actors for my play."
Upon hearing this, Teacher Luo shook his head repeatedly: "Don't count on this year's class, not a single one of them is up to the task."
"It can't be that bad," Wen Yuhan said, glancing at Pei Shaocheng on the stage and gesturing with her chin. "I think he's quite good."
"Hmph, not bad?" Teacher Luo snorted coldly. "The only thing he's got is a decent face. A bunch of girls are always surrounding him and yelling at him. I thought he was a good actor, but his acting is terrible."
"Even you can't train or teach him?" Wen Yuhan was still staring at the stage, but she was talking to Teacher Luo.
"Hey, no, no! You're standing there like a block of wood." Teacher Luo rubbed her temples, then her eyes suddenly lit up. She patted Wen Yuhan's shoulder and said, "Why don't you help me tidy up?"
"Forget it," Wen Yuhan chuckled. "I'm not an acting student."
"Hey, hey, don't pretend with me." Teacher Luo gestured towards the group of people sitting behind her. "Ask them, who doesn't know that I have a student named Wen Yuhan, who has extremely high talent and comprehension in acting... What, are you scriptwriters so arrogant that you look down on us actors?"
Wen Yuhan quickly waved his hand and said, "No, I wouldn't dare!" As he spoke, he glanced at the people on the stage, sighed, smiled, and said, "The third round, right? I'll give it a try..."
...
The lights in the small theater dimmed, and a beam of white spotlight followed Wen Yuhan all the way onto the stage.
Upon closer inspection, this Pei Shaocheng was indeed quite handsome. Especially his eyes, which held a coldness and wariness beneath his furrowed brows, instantly stirred in Wen Yuhan a desire to tease him.
“Come with me, Pain…”
Wen Yuhan gazed into the other's eyes, reached up and climbed onto his neck, then covered him with her entire body.
He tilted his head back and nuzzled Pei Shaocheng's chin with the tip of his nose. As he clearly felt the other's muscles tense up, he gently breathed on him.
“Come with me, Pain…”
Wen Yuhan slowly released his grip on Pei Shaocheng's neck, his fingertips sliding down Pei Shaocheng's Adam's apple, across his chest and abdomen, before finally withdrawing.
He saw Pei Shaocheng's Adam's apple bob, and although he still had that icy, expressionless face, his breathing was noticeably heavier than before.