caused a small stir within the entire 3200 Miles crew. He had entered the set under the guidance of the film’s producer, and before he officially arrived, neither Rong Xu nor Jennifer—nor even director Clemens—had any idea someone would be visiting that day.

As an actor, Qin Cheng had already reached the pinnacle of his craft. But today, he had come to this set as an investor.

3200 Miles was an extremely costly production. Just renting a highway that stretched across two states had already cost more than eight figures in US dollars. As they say, the more money, the better. The post-production and special effects would demand another huge sum.

With special effects, you get what you pay for—the more you spend, the better the result. Very straightforward.

So when Qin Cheng expressed interest in investing in 3200 Miles, producer Mr. Kaf immediately brought him to the set without hesitation.

At first sight of Qin Cheng, Clemens only raised his brows and smiled faintly at his producer, showing no particular reaction. But when Mr. Kaf pulled him aside and whispered with a grin, “Qin is one of the shareholders of China’s Huaxia Entertainment. He may know how to act, but he’s never invested in film before. Clemens—he’s rich and naive. Isn’t this our chance to make a quick buck?”—

The very next second, Clemens’ face lit up, and he warmly and enthusiastically welcomed Qin Cheng into the crew.

After briefly introducing Qin to the various departments on set, Clemens turned to the crew’s only Chinese star—Rong Xu—and asked him to show Qin Cheng around. Facing this request, Rong Xu could only force a helpless smile. He glanced at Qin Cheng, who stood beside Clemens with an expression that clearly read “I’m easy to fool,” and could only sigh as he led the man away for a walk around the set.

As they left, Jennifer furrowed her brows worriedly, pulling Rong Xu aside to whisper, “Rong… he didn’t hear what I said earlier, did he? I’ve known Qin for years, and if he had heard it, he wouldn’t have reacted like that. Maybe… maybe you can gently sound him out?”

Rong Xu glanced calmly toward Qin Cheng, who wasn’t far off. Clemens was now speaking smoothly to him, confidently introducing the film and even boldly declaring his “small goal” for the movie—to make at least ten billion at the box office.

Hearing this, the elegant and handsome man gave a soft, meaningful “Oh,” then turned his gaze toward Rong Xu.

Rong quickly withdrew his gaze and softly reassured Jennifer, “Don’t worry, even if he did hear it, I’ll make sure he doesn’t get suspicious. It’s just ‘Crazy Qin’ after all—how could he possibly connect that to anything serious? Go ahead and shoot your scenes; I’ll show him around.”

Jennifer gave a small nod.

Soon, the filming on 3200 Miles resumed, but the lead actor—Rong Xu—was walking away from the set, openly leading a certain man around the vast plains.

Recently, the film crew had been shooting lots of road scenes. Temporary sets had been built nearby, where the prop, makeup, lighting, and camera teams all worked. About twenty kilometers away was a small town where the crew stayed in local inns overnight.

“Do you know what Clemens meant by that look he gave me before we left?” Rong Xu’s gentle, low laughter blended with the sound of the whistling wind, his soft voice musical like the strings of a zither.

Qin Cheng walked ahead in a trench coat, hands tucked into his pockets. After thinking for a moment, he replied, “He wants you to help him scam me out of my money?”

Rong Xu froze in his steps, surprised as he looked up at the man beside him. “If you knew… why did you still come here?”

Hollywood had its own unspoken rules and was notoriously exclusive. Clemens Holt was a pure-blooded Jew, an American citizen, and a member of the inner circle of Hollywood’s Jewish club.

Normally, a director wouldn’t try to cheat an investor’s money because those funds directly affected the quality of his film. But the biggest investor in 3200 Miles was a wealthy Korean-American businessman who had never invested in movies before. He clearly intended to use the film as a legal way to launder money (a common practice among tycoons to dodge taxes). So even if Clemens wanted to skim a little off the top, the investor couldn’t do much about it.

Such mutually exploiting relationships were best left unexposed—neither side would benefit from a falling out. And Clemens would never let that tycoon find out.

Qin Cheng calmly said, “Perhaps Kaf thinks I want to launder money now too.”

Over the past year and a half, Qin Cheng had suddenly taken on movie after movie. For Stormbringer alone, his fee had exceeded nine figures in US dollars. With so much income came equally massive taxes, so Mr. Kaf’s assumption wasn’t entirely baseless.

But how could Qin Cheng not have thought of this?

Realizing this, Rong Xu chuckled lightly. “Since you knew all along… then why did you come here? Just to see me?”

“To see you.”

The man’s immediate, unhesitant answer left Rong Xu stunned.

By now they had wandered a full mile from the set. Rong Xu slightly lifted his face to gaze at the man beside him.

For today’s scenes, Roy was supposed to have a faint scar running from the corner of his right eye—a thin trail of fake blood. His messy black hair hung around his ears, and he wore rough, torn clothes. His long, slender legs were wrapped in jeans, which made his action scenes look even better.

And made him, as a whole, look even more beautiful.

Qin Cheng gently raised a hand, brushing the corner of Rong Xu’s right eye, fingertips stroking the scar as he murmured, “Fake?”

Rong Xu nodded. “Mm. Makeup. Don’t press too hard, or you’ll smudge it.”

“And this one—this is real, isn’t it?”

As he spoke, Qin Cheng grasped the boy’s hand, his gaze serious as he examined the faint cut along Rong Xu’s finger.

Rong Xu smirked. “If I said it was fake, would you believe me?”

Qin Cheng lifted his gaze, his deep dark eyes reflecting the faintly smiling youth. He stared for a long time before softly answering, “I’d believe you.”

Now Rong Xu was the one stunned.

Qin Cheng added softly, “No matter what you say, I’ll believe you.”

The early spring wind swept across the endless wilderness, stirring sand that dusted the boy’s worn, faded clothes. His light-colored eyes slowly widened. After a moment, a deeper smile curved his lips, and since they were far from the crew, he boldly grabbed the man’s hand and began walking along the highway.

The two chatted about 3200 Miles, about Zhuang Hua Luo’s box office, and about the Golden Phoenix nominations.

After almost three kilometers, Rong Xu suddenly remembered: “Wait—you still haven’t told me why you really came. Just to see me? Then why use investing in the movie as an excuse? If you back out later, I think Clemens will go crazy on you.”

Whether Clemens would truly fight Qin Cheng over this, Rong Xu wasn’t sure.

By noon, they strolled back to the set for lunch—simple sandwiches and bread.

Just as Rong Xu predicted, Clemens soon came to ask Qin Cheng what he thought of the film.

Under the wide blue sky, the man who’d been joking about being swindled that morning now lowered his phoenix eyes and seriously pondered for a moment before calmly replying, “I think… I need to watch a little longer. This seems like a very promising movie.”

Clemens immediately boasted, “Seems like? Qin, you must be kidding me. With me, Jennifer, and Rong Xu here, this movie’s box office will definitely surpass ten billion. Even ten billion is just a starting point. You really don’t want to share this cake with me?”

Qin Cheng curled his thin lips. “I want to stay in the crew for two more days.”

Clemens froze, then quickly smiled. “Of course, of course. You are always welcome here, my friend.”

Rong Xu, listening silently on the side: “…”

Hmm. So this is what you’re like, Qin Cheng.

Maybe because of Qin Cheng’s arrival, 3200 Miles wrapped up early that night at 8 p.m., and the crew returned to town to rest. There wasn’t much in the way of good restaurants, but Clemens still treated Qin Cheng to a steak and arranged a room for him.

As Rong Xu expected, after his shower that night, there came a familiar knock at the door. When he opened it, there stood a certain man—looking utterly natural as he stepped inside and shut the door behind him with smooth, practiced ease.

Watching his perfect “thief-like” movements, Rong Xu leaned against the wall and sighed helplessly. “Mr. Qin, I want to sleep.”

Qin Cheng looked at him, puzzled. “What else would you do at night but sleep?”

Rong Xu pouted, dragging the man toward the door again, seriously insisting, “I just want to sleep!!”

His hand had barely touched the doorknob when strong arms suddenly wrapped around him from behind, gently pulling him into a broad, warm chest.

His body stiffened. The man leaned down, warm breath brushing softly against his ear.

“You’re injured. I came to help… apply medicine.”

Qin Cheng gently pulled open the boy’s pajama top, his gaze deepening slightly. Holding the ointment in his hand, he carefully applied it to the patches of bruises. Then he took off the boy’s long pants and stared at the large area of abrasions on his knees. Qin Cheng pressed his lips together in silence, his movements becoming even gentler.

There wasn’t a trace of desire in his eyes—only an overwhelming, unrelenting heartache.

This was the boy he loved the most—the one he held in the palm of his hand, cherished deep in his heart, whom no one was allowed to hurt. Yet this afternoon, he could only watch helplessly as his boy fell from the car over and over, hitting the ground repeatedly, and then forcing himself to endure the pain, hurry back to the set, make the right expressions, say the right lines.

If this had happened to him, Qin Cheng would not have pitied himself. But seeing these injuries on this boy, his heart ached so much he wished he could bring him home at once and never let him film such cruel action scenes again.

The action scenes came out smooth and dazzling, satisfying the audience thoroughly—but behind them were layers upon layers of bruises and scrapes on his boy’s body.

Even Qin Cheng didn’t know how much self-control it had taken to keep himself from rushing forward to hold him the moment he saw Rong Xu voluntarily fall from the car for the first time that afternoon.

And yet Clemens still had the nerve to say, “This take’s expression was off. Do it again.”

Do it again, my ass!

Why don’t you try it yourself?!

With rough fingertips, the man gently stroked the inside of the boy’s thigh. Qin Cheng’s expression was utterly serious, as if he truly was simply applying medicine—but Rong Xu bit his lip hard, forcing down the moan that almost spilled from his throat.

When the ointment was finally all applied, Qin Cheng reached out, turned off the bedroom light, and lay down on the bed with his boy in his arms.

The careful movements just now had already left Rong Xu feeling a little aroused, but seeing Qin Cheng acting like he really meant to just sleep, he froze for a moment and blurted out instinctively, “…That’s it?”

In response, Qin Cheng leaned in and kissed him tenderly.

“Go to sleep early. You have filming tomorrow morning. Save your energy.”

Rong Xu felt a slight stir in his heart. After a long while, he lifted his head and gently kissed the man between his brows.

“Good night, Qin Cheng.”

His biological clock, set by the filming schedule, woke him up at five in the morning. As soon as Rong Xu opened his eyes, he found himself nestled tightly against Qin Cheng’s chest. Reflexively, he tried to get up, but the moment he moved, he felt something hard pressing against his thigh.

Rong Xu: “…”

He looked up to see a certain man gazing down at him with a perfectly serious face.

Rong Xu again: “…”

The next second, he simply shoved that handsome face away with his hand and said, “I really thought you came just to apply medicine for me.”

Qin Cheng: “…That’s a physiological reaction.”

Rong Xu took off his pajamas, turned to glance at the man on the bed, and smirked. “It’s your body, not my problem.”

Qin Cheng: “…”

Five minutes later, Rong Xu finished changing and went to the bathroom to wash up. When he came out, he saw a certain man putting down his phone and getting out of bed.

Without thinking much of it, Rong Xu picked up his own phone to check the messages Luo XI had sent him last night. Just as he unlocked the screen, a special alert popped up. He opened it—

[Lotus Paste Orange Filling: Baby is upset, but baby must speak. He wronged baby. Baby cares so much about him, yet he doesn’t comfort baby. Baby is upset, upset, upset, upset, upset, upset, upset! T^T Hmph!]

Rong Xu: “…”

Under this Weibo post, countless fans raged in support of Lotus Paste Orange Filling. Many had IDs like “Mrs. Rong” or “Rong is the Most Beautiful in the World,” all demanding in unison:
[Orange goddess, dump that lousy man and come into our warm embrace!!!]

The “lousy man” Rong Xu: “…”

He glanced down at the Weibo post, then turned to look at a certain calm and collected man.

Rong Xu’s gaze shifted between his phone and Qin Cheng, who was smoothing out his wrinkled pajamas with an indifferent expression. Thin lips pressed lightly together, he strode into the bathroom to wash up.

Even while brushing his teeth, his face remained cold and blank, distant and steady.

Glance down: Baby is upset!
Glance up: Handsome as hell.

When Qin Cheng came out after brushing his teeth, he saw his boy staring at him with a complicated look. Raising a brow slightly, he asked calmly, “What’s wrong?”

As he raised that brow, golden sunlight spilled over his cool, handsome face—so beautiful it made one’s breath catch. Rong Xu gazed deeply at Qin Cheng for a long while, then suddenly sighed, stepped forward, grabbed the man’s pajama collar, and yanked him down—pressing their lips together.

Qin Cheng’s eyes flew wide open, pupils quivering slightly, clearly not expecting this.

The brief kiss ended. Rong Xu let go of his collar and smiled. “I was teasing you this morning. I know you came to visit because you care.”

A flicker of light seemed to flash in those dark, deep phoenix eyes. After a moment, Qin Cheng’s thin lips curved as he pulled his boy into another kiss. This one was no quick peck—it was the true first kiss after a day apart.

Much later, breathless, Rong Xu pushed him out of the room with righteous indignation. “If you don’t leave now, Sister Xi will come. I won’t be able to explain why you’re in my room.”

Finally, Qin Cheng turned and left.