The dusk was fleeting. The celestial canopy, looking like the soot-covered bottom of a wok, flipped upside down to shroud the entire world in dark shadows.

There was no light among the jagged reefs of the seashore. Xie Jinghe stood there, his silhouette indistinct, though the white padded jacket he wore was exceptionally striking—at first glance, it looked as though he were draped in a layer of shallow moonlight.

Surrounded by darkness and desolation, he looked utterly out of place with the world.

Out in the distant view, the flaring buoys on the sea surface blinked with a faint red light, portending a certain danger.

Taking large strides, Shi Linchuan crossed over the winding, uneven reefs, walking all the way toward that blurry silhouette. For some reason, a ball of fire was burning within his chest, making a crackling sound.

The moment he came to a standstill, he immediately began to scold him, his tone laced with anger.

“Xie Jinghe, do you have ears? Didn’t the staff members tell you the rules of the game? I didn’t come because I didn’t want to come! What the hell were you doing standing here foolishly for half the day?”

“Or are you just moving yourself to tears? Thinking that doing this makes you look deeply affectionate?”

Shi Linchuan’s words were harsh, delivering a fierce tongue-lashing right to Xie Jinghe’s face.

The man had walked far too fast, and he was still panting slightly as he spoke now. However, this minor flaw didn’t hinder his regular performance in the slightest—he didn’t utter a single vulgar word throughout, yet every sentence was laced with venom, maximizing the mockery.

It left the audience in the live broadcast room completely stunned.

【Holy crap, does this guy eat arsenic mixed with rice three times a day? His mouth is so toxic.】

【Wow, the Film Emperor has been waiting since past three o’clock, and now it’s almost seven. The wind is so fierce, and the seaside is freezing cold. To hear this round of scolding, wouldn’t his mental state just explode? If it were me, I would have burst into tears on the spot. This divorce is a done deal!】

【I really don’t know how these two are going to wrap things up…】

【Just took a look at Weibo, a massive wave of Xie fans has already exploded [holding a lotus flower][hands pressed together]】

【No, bro, stop talking! You really don’t treat us like outsiders. Even across the screen, I’m afraid the Film Emperor will get so mad at your scolding that he’ll just push you right into the sea in a moment!】

The sky lowered, and the sea tide rose.

The night wind was exceptionally biting, and the distance between the two men was less than half a meter.

Shi Linchuan’s continuous barrage of scolding went in through Xie Jinghe’s left ear and out his right. His gaze was dazed. Feeling the heat radiating from the man, he couldn’t help but raise his hand to touch the other’s forehead.

It was burning hot.

And slightly damp. It was sweat.

Mid-scold, Shi Linchuan suddenly choked on his words.

Meanwhile, the culprit, Xie Jinghe, merely lowered his head and twirled his fingers, his voice very soft and carrying a heavy nasal tone as he said, “You kept saying you didn’t want to come, but you still came.”

Right at that moment, a wave crashed loudly against the reef, shattering into pieces. The fine spray splashed onto the back of Shi Linchuan’s hand, forcing his fingers to curl uncomfortably.

After a brief pause, Xie Jinghe lifted his eyes to look at him. His face was covered by a dark veil of night, yet his eyes shone with a brilliant light—unclear whether it was tears or something else.

“As long as you came, it’s fine.”

In an instant, a massive sense of absurdity and powerlessness hit Shi Linchuan’s heart simultaneously. He snapped his jaw shut, staring with vexation at this stubborn guy who refused to listen to reason, his hand hanging at his side unconsciously clenching into a fist.

Consequently, a few small crescent shapes dug into his palm.

But Xie Jinghe was far more detestable than those nail marks; he insisted on burrowing right into his heart.

He was already thoroughly plagued by it.

After saying those words, Xie Jinghe sniffed heavily and complained, “It’s so cold, and I’m hungry. You came so late…” He paused, lifting the wrist wrapped in gauze and purposely raising it right in front of the man’s face. “And my hand hurts a lot, really hurts.”

In truth, when he didn’t move it, the pain was very mild.

But that didn’t stop Xie Jinghe from saying so.

There was no particular reason; he just suddenly really wanted to act spoiled.

Shi Linchuan lowered his eyes to look at this injured little pig’s trotter that was nearly shoved into his face. He remained silent for a long while before saying, “Then why did you insist on standing here all afternoon? You might as well let it hurt to death.”

Following that, he uttered a cold word.

“Let’s go.”

The moment the words left his mouth.

Shi Linchuan turned around, casually raising one arm to grip Xie Jinghe’s back collar with a moderate amount of force, leading him down from the cluster of reefs.

Xie Jinghe was such a lazybones.

With Shi Linchuan pulling him along, he didn’t even look at the path. Throughout the entire walk, he kept his head tilted to look at him, continuously complaining to him—that his legs were sore from standing too long, his head ached from the wind, his hand hurt from the fall, and his stomach was growling from the long wait. He said it over and over, rambling on repeatedly.

Finally, Xie Jinghe said a sentence.

“I knew you would come.”

Shi Linchuan sneered, “What if I hadn’t come?”

Xie Jinghe merely blinked his eyes and responded, “There are no ‘what ifs.’ You came.”

Shi Linchuan snorted, his tone prickly, “Because I was afraid of cyberbullying.”

Xie Jinghe pondered for a moment, his eyes darting toward the man’s profile with a conflicted expression as he cautiously pointed out a certain fact, “I think it’s a bit too late for you to be worried about that.”

Shi Linchuan: “Tch.”

Annoying thing.

As they walked, Xie Jinghe suddenly stumbled and almost tripped. Fortunately, Shi Linchuan didn’t let go of his clothes; otherwise, this person might well have fallen face-first onto the rugged stone surface, leaving his face covered in blood.

Thinking of this, Shi Linchuan’s tone grew even worse.

“Xie Jinghe, how old are you? Can you look at the road a little?”

Xie Jinghe was also somewhat shaken and explained, “My shoelace came undone, and I accidentally stepped on it just now.”

Shi Linchuan looked down.

It really was.

Before releasing Xie Jinghe’s back collar, he uttered a cold and hard “stand still,” then squatted down directly. His two hands pinched the loose shoelaces and tied them into a tight knot.

Only in the next second, Xie Jinghe’s voice drifted down from above his head, “The tightness of the shoelaces on both shoes is different. It feels a bit strange.”

This brat.

What kind of fuss was he kicking up now?

Shi Linchuan’s resentment was heavier than a ghost’s. With a sour face, he untied the shoelace of the other shoe and tied it up again. After standing up, he even wore a rigid expression and delivered a sarcastic remark,

“Young Master, are you satisfied now?”

Xie Jinghe didn’t speak, however. He merely stared straight at him, lips pursed into a smile. His gaze surreptitiously shifted to the man’s lips that had just spat out those harsh words, his throat bobbing instinctively.

How could Shi Linchuan not notice?

He pushed his glasses up and turned his head to look elsewhere.

“I really can’t stand you.”

_

When they returned to the residence, it was already past seven-thirty.

Aside from providing a sumptuous meal for the guests on the first day, the production team had already declared that they would maintain a hands-off approach toward the guests’ daily meals for the next few days—meaning ingredients would be provided, but the guests needed to cook for themselves.

This task didn’t sound too difficult.

However.

On the first floor, inside the kitchen.

Shi Linchuan had washed the large iron wok resting on the earthen stove three times before he started boiling water to cook noodles.

Xie Jinghe sat on a small bamboo stool, adding firewood into the stokehole.

The earthen stove was difficult to use; at least, Shi Linchuan hadn’t seen such a contraption in his thirty-odd years of life. Fortunately, Xie Jinghe had gained some experience with it during filming, so he proactively took on the task of building the fire.

The stool was low and his legs were long, making his sitting posture look somewhat cramped.

During the interval while waiting for the water to boil, Shi Linchuan felt a bit bored. He habitually stood in front of the stove with one hand stuffed into his pocket. His posture wasn’t as upright and formal as it had been during the day; instead, he carried an air of lazy negligence.

He was tall and handsome, making it impossible for one to tear their eyes away.

Shi Linchuan: “…”

A certain someone’s gaze carried too much of a presence, as if it were glued to his body.

The firewood burned fiercely inside the hearth.

The hot, crimson firelight spilled out from the narrow opening, occasionally throwing out a few sudden popping sounds—likely the crackling of the bursting flames.

It was somewhat hot.

Shi Linchuan couldn’t help but turn his face, lowering his head to look at the person sitting by his feet. Unsurprisingly, he locked eyes with a pair of deep eyes that mirrored the firelight.

It wasn’t just those eyes.

Xie Jinghe sat at the position of the stokehole, his entire being immersed in the orange-red firelight. The shadows on his facial features and the crook of his neck shifted along with the dancing flames, like the strong and weak beats in music, rising and falling. Watching it for a long time made one feel dizzy and slow of thought.

Gudu gudu.

The water in the wok had boiled at some unknown point.

The kitchen space was narrow, and the temperature continued to rise.

Shi Linchuan couldn’t help but place his palm on top of Xie Jinghe’s head, turning his face away as he reminded him with dissatisfaction, “Focus. Tend to your fire.”

Xie Jinghe: “Oh.”

Before long.

Two bowls of steaming hot noodles with green vegetables and shredded pork were served on the table.

Shi Linchuan ate his noodles, catching sight of Xie Jinghe sitting right across from him holding his chopsticks with his left hand. After exerting a great deal of effort for a long time, he didn’t manage to get many strands of noodles, so he resorted to pressing his mouth against the edge of the bowl to slurp. He couldn’t help but put down his chopsticks and say with disgust, “If you eat like that, the soup will spill out. Cleaning it up in winter is a huge hassle.”

Xie Jinghe swallowed the noodles and soup, responding, “Leave me be. I’ll clean it up myself later.”

Shi Linchuan looked at him expressionless, remaining silent.

The room fell quiet for one second, two seconds…

Suddenly, a wave of inspiration struck Xie Jinghe, and a bright little light bulb popped up over his head. He asked tentatively, “Then how about you feed me? My hand is inconvenient these few days. It’ll save you the trouble of cleaning up later if the table and clothes get dirty.”

Shi Linchuan took the chopsticks and soup spoon from his hand, emphasizing reluctantly, “Just for these few days.”

Xie Jinghe nodded and opened his mouth.

_

After eating, a new problem arose.

Xie Jinghe had been active outdoors today, during which he had even taken a fall on the mountain steps. The white padded jacket he wore had several patches of dirt, and his body was covered in sweat. He had no choice but to wash himself from head to toe.

But he had injured one hand; he couldn’t move it, nor could it touch water. Doing anything was inconvenient.

Inside the bathroom, the light was dim.

Two tall and long-limbed men crowding inside made it extremely cramped. Shi Linchuan signaled for the person before him to raise his hands high, gently and slowly stripping away his clothes piece by piece, before stripping himself clean as well, letting him rest his injured hand on his own shoulder.

Xie Jinghe complied with each instruction.

The warm water flowed down, so soothing that it made one squint their eyes.

During the scrubbing process, Shi Linchuan discovered that Xie Jinghe hadn’t just sprained his wrist; there were several bruises on the areas covered by his clothes, their colors varying in depth. It would take at least two or three days for them to fade.

Puji.

Shi Linchuan squeezed out a dollop of shampoo and smeared it onto Xie Jinghe’s wet head. Seeing his two eyes fixed directly on his own body with a slight curve at the corners of his mouth, he couldn’t help but increase the force under his hands, lathering up a large mass of snow-white bubbles.

A few bubbles drifted up.

Rising into the air.

Popping.

With a sudden bang sound.

The shower head fell to the ground, spinning around several times before coming to a stop. Beside it were four feet standing in an interlocking fashion. The further up one looked, the tighter they were entwined. The men were kissing together in a fiery passion, biting each other’s lips and swallowing one another’s saliva, rubbing the body wash bubbles on their skin all over the other’s chest—

A long and intense kiss.

Both of them kissed until they ran out of oxygen, suffocating, as fireworks exploded inside their brains.

They were on the verge of dying.

Even if they were to die just like this.