"What are you doing?" Peter Zhang glanced at him sideways.
The assistant director lowered his voice and whispered in Peter Zhang's ear, "Are you sure you want to work with that screenwriter?"
Peter Zhang raised an eyebrow with a "what's wrong?" expression.
The assistant director glanced at Peter Zhang again and stammered, "I heard he was blacklisted before, apparently for plagiarism... In short, he has a bad reputation in the industry, and nobody dares to use him."
“Plagiarism? That can’t be right.” Peter Zhang frowned. “I think that kid is quite talented at writing.”
The assistant director shrugged and said seriously, "You were in Hong Kong for those years, so you didn't know. Otherwise, why do you think Mr. Lu never asked him to write a script, nor did he mention asking you to give him credit?"
Peter Zhang narrowed his eyes upon hearing this, seemingly lost in thought. He then unscrewed his thermos, took a sip of tea, and turned his gaze back to the monitor. After a long while, he sighed, "Ah, so young, what a pity."
...
The cigarette box was empty. Wen Yuhan poured the bits of tobacco out onto the ground and flattened the box.
The plastic sheeting made a crackling sound as he leaned back against the wall outside the studio, half-raising his eyes to look at the fiery clouds on the horizon, a slight smile still playing on his lips.
As a result, he accidentally overheard the conversation between the assistant director and Peter Zhang. He yawned and realized that after so many years, these words that had once brought him to the brink of losing control could no longer stir up any waves in his heart.
Not far away, producer Liang Zi was negotiating with the studio manager and a woman to extend the studio's operating hours. Apart from Liang Zi, the other two had their backs to him.
The woman was quite assertive; even knowing who was using the space, she still demanded they stop work as agreed, stating that her boss couldn't wait any longer. Liangzi, on the other hand, abandoned his obsequious behavior towards Lu Yanheng and refused to back down.
As for the studio manager, he couldn't afford to offend either side, so he could only try to mediate.
Wen Yuhan closed his eyes, trying to detach himself from the noise, and waited for Lu Yanheng to finish his call and take him home.
He still felt a little uncomfortable in his stomach, and thought he might as well leave first, otherwise he would have to think of an excuse if Lu Yanheng insisted on taking him out to eat later.
He actually needs a cigarette more than a meal right now.
However, Lu Yanheng did not smoke.
Suddenly, a shadow appeared above him, blocking out the light from above.
Wen Yuhan maintained her original posture and curled her lips: "Could you help me find someone to get me a cigarette, Yanheng?"
Seeing that the other party remained silent for a while, he could only shake his head and smile awkwardly, realizing his own embarrassment: "No matter what, I did help you out today."
He opened his eyes as he spoke, and then his smile froze on his lips.
"Who are you calling?"
Directly in front of him were a pair of gloomy and cold eyes.
...
Chapter 18
It turns out that people standing against the light really do feel more imposing, let alone Pei Shaocheng, who is nearly 1.9 meters tall.
Wen Yuhan instinctively pressed her back closer to the wall, trying to avoid that piercing gaze, and said with a forced smile, "What are you doing here?"
As if sensing Wen Yuhan's evasiveness, Pei Shaocheng's aura became even lower, and his lowered body blocked out the last bit of sunlight.
"I'm asking you, who are you calling?"
Wen Yuhan felt as if the air had become thick and solidified, sealing his mouth and nose and making it hard for him to breathe. Even though he had nothing to be ashamed of, Wen Yuhan's palms still couldn't help but sweat when faced with Pei Shaocheng's interrogation.
In Pei Shaocheng's eyes, such a reaction undoubtedly confirmed his close relationship with Lu Yanheng.
Pei Shaocheng's heart sank further and further, and he repeated almost self-destructively, "Yanheng..." He snorted coldly, "You call him so affectionately."
"Do you have any cigarettes?" Wen Yuhan interrupted Pei Shaocheng, looking up at him. "Give me one, mine's all gone."
Disbelief flickered in Pei Shaocheng's eyes. How could this person in front of him be so nonchalant as to ask him for a cigarette at a time like this?
What did he take him for, a vending machine?
Seeing that Pei Shaocheng remained silent, Wen Yuhan nodded, stood up, and smiled at him, "Never mind if you don't have one. I'll go ask someone else. You go ahead and do your work." With that, she turned to walk away from Pei Shaocheng.
"Wen Yuhan!" Pei Shaocheng roared, grabbing Wen Yuhan's wrist and shoving him against the wall again. The impact smeared plaster from the wall onto his white shirt.
Wen Yuhan was leaning against the wall, trying to steady herself, when the other person grabbed her collar and lifted her up sharply:
"What exactly did Lu Yanheng promise you? Authorship? Project? Or money?!"
Wen Yuhan remained silent, letting Pei Shaocheng tighten his grip on his collar, making the air feel even thinner. His non-violent, non-cooperative attitude only fueled Pei Shaocheng's anger, causing blue veins to bulge on the back of his hand.
In an instant, faces of Xiao Yang, Yu Wanli, Lu Yanheng, and all those who had appeared beside Wen Yuhan in the past appeared and magnified before Pei Shaocheng's eyes, each bearing an expression of disdain or mockery. Finally, it culminated in Wen Yuhan closing her eyes and gently uttering, "Yanheng..."
"Speak up! Wen Yuhan, say something!" Pei Shaocheng grabbed Wen Yuhan's arms and shook them violently. The immense force between his fingers made Wen Yuhan frown involuntarily.
However, he remained silent.
Wen Yuhan was like a handful of fine sand held in a fist; the more you tried to hold onto her, the faster she slipped through your fingers. Pei Shaocheng was filled with resentment and anger, yet also with immense panic. He had once thought they were so close, but now this person was standing right in front of him, yet it felt as if a lifetime had separated them.
“Wen Yuhan, tell me… tell me why you chose to betray me back then, why all sorts of people always appear around you, but never me.”
"Don't you understand, Mr. Pei?" A calm and collected voice suddenly came from behind, followed by a hand pressing down on Pei Shaocheng's arm, revealing a silver Rolex.
Lu Yanheng… Pei Shaocheng’s eyes suddenly turned cold.
“Authorization, projects, money… these aren’t what Xiaohan truly wants. What he wants is respect, both for the writer and for the work itself.” Lu Yanheng smiled faintly at Pei Shaocheng. “Is your current behavior showing him any respect?”
Upon hearing this, Pei Shaocheng stiffened slightly, and Wen Yuhan took the opportunity to break free from his grasp.
Seeing this, Lu Yanheng stepped forward and blocked the two of them.
“Mr. Pei is a celebrity, and this is, after all, a public place. With so many people around, it’s really inappropriate to get into a fight.” Lu Yanheng adjusted his glasses and said slowly, “Why don’t we find a quieter place another day? If you two have any conflicts, we can resolve them then.”
"We don't need Mr. Lu to worry about our affairs." Pei Shaocheng withdrew his hand, lowered his head to dust off the corner of his suit jacket, and when he looked up again, the emotions from before were completely gone.
Lu Yanheng shook his head and chuckled, "No matter what, I'm Xiaohan's friend. I forced him to come and help today. If he runs into trouble, it's only right and proper for me to step in and do something about it, isn't it?"
"So, how much does Mr. Lu know about our situation?" Pei Shaocheng looked at Lu Yanheng, his tone slow and deliberate. "Instead of mediating this emotional dispute here, Mr. Lu would be better off resolving the issue of the breach of contract and exceeding the time limit first."
Pei Shaocheng subtly used the phrase "emotional entanglement" to define his relationship with Wen Yuhan, silently forming a protective shield that kept Lu Yanheng out.
Lu Yanheng raised his eyebrows, a cold scrutiny flashing in his eyes behind his glasses, which Pei Shaocheng keenly noticed.
“No problem.” Lu Yanheng spoke first. “The crew encountered some unexpected issues, which delayed Mr. Pei’s team’s time. I will order them to stop work now.” After he finished speaking, he turned to Wen Yuhan and said gently, “Let’s go, Xiaohan.”
"Wait a minute." Pei Shaocheng called out to the two of them, his eyes turning cold as he looked at Lu Yanheng. "Mr. Lu, please go ahead and attend to your business. I have something to discuss with him."
At this point, Lu Yanheng simply put away his usual humble smile, straightened his back, narrowed his eyes, and said, "Mr. Pei, why don't you ask Xiaohan if she wants to stay?"
Pei Shaocheng turned his gaze to Wen Yuhan, his hands clenching and unclenching in his trouser pockets.
“It’s about the character.” He paused, then chose the most confident explanation, “Stay and analyze the character’s motivations with me.”
At this moment, Wen Yuhan did not look into Pei Shaocheng's eyes. If she had, she would not have had trouble noticing the lingering desire hidden deep in his eyes.
The sun had set, leaving only a golden line, and the surroundings were bathed in a deep blue light characteristic of the period before nightfall.
Wen Yuhan raised the corners of her lips and said softly, "Next time."
After saying that, he turned around and left behind only a thin, frail back view.
"Mr. Pei, I'll take my leave now." Lu Yanheng nodded to Pei Shaocheng and followed him out. As he turned his back, a complex emotion flickered in his eyes. He knew some things about Pei Shaocheng and Wen Yuhan, but he also understood that Wen Yuhan had only told him a small part of it and had no intention of letting him know too much.
Lu Yanheng understood Pei Shaocheng all too well. To develop feelings for someone like Wen Yuhan was like giving one's heart to the wind—one could clearly feel the breeze, yet could never truly grasp it.
But what could he do? Lu Yanheng chuckled self-deprecatingly. There would always be a few self-righteous idiots in the world. Pei Shaocheng, for example, and himself.
"Brother Cheng." Emily had appeared in front of Pei Shaocheng without him noticing. "The previous crew has finished filming, and the makeup and hair stylist would like you to hurry over... Um, Brother Cheng?"
Pei Shaocheng snapped out of his reverie, looking in the direction Wen Yuhan had left in the night. He nodded silently, then turned and followed Emily slowly toward the dressing room...
Chapter 19
Pei Shaocheng came here to take costume fitting photos for a stage play he will be starring in later. Although he has been working mainly in the film and television industry in recent years, he actually prefers being on stage to being in front of the camera.
Therefore, when the director of the play, Tian Wen, came to visit him and told Pei Shaocheng about the whole story and the role, Pei Shaocheng agreed almost without hesitation.
When he met Wen Yuhan here just now, he was actually overjoyed. He was eager to let Wen Yuhan know that he had never given up on the stage, because every time the theater lights came on, he would recall the past moments he shared with Wen Yuhan.
However, the moment Wen Yuhan mistook him for Lu Yanheng, he was once again certain that all those past memories were nothing more than wishful thinking on his part.
"Teacher Pei, please tilt your head back slightly so I can apply some powder to your neck."
The makeup artist's voice interrupted Pei Shaocheng's thoughts. He silently looked up at the light above him. It must have been left behind by a film crew; light streamed down from the vintage glass lampshade, casting colorful shadows.
The memory is stretched out in an instant.
On a sweltering summer night, in the cramped dressing room backstage of the school theater, Wen Yuhan leaned against an old prop box, holding a box of loose powder in her hand, and said to Pei Shaocheng with a helpless expression, "Could you tilt your head back a little? I can't reach it like this."
Outside the dressing room, the sounds of other people rehearsing could still be heard. Pei Shaocheng sat on a chair with his long legs spread wide, while Wen Yuhan squeezed between his legs. The two were very close, so close that Pei Shaocheng could smell the cool fragrance of Wen Yuhan mixed with a faint tobacco scent.
His heart was being stirred, and he tried his best to control his breathing. Wen Yuhan raised an eyebrow, then lifted his foot and gently hooked Pei Shaocheng's thigh with the back of his foot: "Hurry up."
Pei Shaocheng's inner thigh muscles suddenly tightened, and his eyes darkened even more.
He stiffly raised his head, letting Wen Yuhan bend down and brush powder puffs across his neck. The touch was like a butterfly landing on his most sensitive skin, fluttering its wings back and forth.
Pei Shaocheng's Adam's apple bobbed violently, and he reached out to grab Wen Yuhan, saying in a low voice, "I'll do it myself."
When he opened his mouth, his voice had become hoarse.
Wen Yuhan was stunned for a moment, then mischievously poked Pei Shaocheng's Adam's apple with her index finger. Pei Shaocheng stood up abruptly, his chair tilting back with a crisp sound.
Wen Yuhan narrowed his eyes: "You're quite perceptive." He walked to the door, closed the half-closed door to the dressing room, turned back to Pei Shaocheng, and gave a sly smile: "I suddenly... had an idea..."
He walked step by step toward Pei Shaocheng, and slowly spoke in a cool voice:
“Andrew and his lover, a stage actress, were flirting in the dressing room backstage. Outside, the hurried footsteps of the cast and crew could be heard. The audience was full and impatient, starting to shout urging them to hurry up. Andrew was being kissed brazenly in front of the dressing table, his tie being pulled down by her…”
As Wen Yuhan spoke, she pinned Pei Shaocheng against the prop box according to his instructions. Pei Shaocheng braced himself against the box with his hands and his back pressed against the box.
Wen Yuhan hooked one hand around Pei Shaocheng's tie, and with the other hand, she placed it over Pei Shaocheng's hand and intertwined their fingers.
"The dressing room door was just like it is now; a gentle push would reveal everything happening inside. The air grew hot with their intertwined breaths, and the constant threat of discovery only fueled their excitement... The lover bit Andrew's Adam's apple, and Andrew could no longer restrain himself, pinning him beneath him and kissing him passionately. Their intertwined figures were reflected in the mirror, its surface fogged with their breaths..."
Looking into Pei Shaocheng's increasingly dark and unfathomable eyes, Wen Yuhan pulled his tie closer to her, breathing into Pei Shaocheng's ear: "No... Andrew... someone..." The lover's hand touched the mirror, but Andrew pressed it down, leaving a wet mark. Their faces were clearly reflected in the narrow, polished mirror surface...
Pei Shaocheng simply let Wen Yuhan hold his tie and stare at him without moving.
The stuffy, hot environment caused Pei Shaocheng's back to be covered in a fine layer of sweat, but Wen Yuhan's body remained cool and refreshed.