Chapter 116:
The weather forecast was spot on—the snow had fallen for two full days before finally stopping. Due to the harsh conditions, the production crew had no choice but to move the indoor scenes ahead in the schedule.
After finishing a scene, Jiang Yunjian returned to the dressing room and took the hot water bag that Bo Zhen handed him. “Thanks.”
“What’s up with the weather this year? It’s ridiculously cold.” Bo Zhen quickly shut the door to keep the cold air out. “I’m about to get frostbite.”
The assistant nodded in agreement. “I’m wearing six layers today.”
As Bo Zhen spoke, he turned and saw Jiang Yunjian holding his phone, scrolling through Weibo.
Bo Zhen never confiscated Jiang Yunjian’s accounts because he knew the actor wasn’t the type to obsess over social media or post recklessly. Seeing this, he quickly asked, “Xiao Jian, what are you doing?”
Jiang Yunjian looked up and answered, “Checking Weibo.”
Bo Zhen leaned over for a glance and, sure enough, Jiang Yunjian was going through his private messages, filtering out the hate comments.
“Don’t bother with that. Someone will take care of it for you,” Bo Zhen said. “Did you forget your alt account’s password? I can make you a new one.”
“I didn’t forget. I just wanted to check.” Jiang Yunjian understood what v was worried about. “Don’t worry, Brother. It doesn’t bother me.”
That was one of the things Bo Zhen admired about him. Out of all the artists he had managed, Jiang Yunjian had the strongest mental resilience. He knew how to process negativity and move on. In contrast, other rising stars like him were practically regulars at therapy sessions.
“You still have scenes to shoot later. Looking at this stuff won’t do you any good.”
The assistant chuckled at the thought. “Brother, these media outlets are so desperate for gossip that they’re even making up rumors about me and you. How starved for content must they be?”
Bo Zhen quickly waved him off. “Exactly… Xiao Chen, take this fruit to Director Wu.”
The assistant took the fruit and left, closing the door behind him.
Bo Zhen immediately pulled his chair closer and lowered his voice. “What exactly happened between you and President Cheng yesterday? I’m not trying to pry into your **, but you need to be straight with me. Are you two still good or not? I need to know how to handle things.”
Bo Zhen wasn’t an idiot. He had seen Jiang Yunjian’s expression last night and knew something had happened between them. At first, he thought they had broken up, but then he heard Cheng Peng’s voice over the phone, which left him uncertain.
Jiang Yunjian remained silent for a moment before saying, “I think… we’re still good?”
Bo Zhen frowned. “What do you mean, ‘think’?”
Jiang Yunjian pressed his lips together. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to explain—it was that he really wasn’t sure.
Last night, in a moment of reckless impulse, he had confessed.
Cheng Peng had simply laughed and replied, “Got it.”
“Got it.”
Was that a yes or a no? Jiang Yunjian hadn’t dared to ask. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think about it too much. After those words left his mouth, his mind had gone blank, his hands had gone numb with nerves, and regret had crept in—afraid that his hard-won physical relationship with Cheng Peng might fall apart again because of that confession.
But in that moment, how could he have held back?
To Bo Zhen, as long as there was no clear declaration of a breakup, it meant they were still together. He nodded. “Alright, then. No big deal. This whole mess has been taken care of. Not sure what tricks they pulled, but that media account was completely shut down—four million followers, gone just like that.”
Bo Zhen had always believed that in this digital age, controlling the media’s mouth was nearly impossible. But reality had once again proven that no matter the era, money would always be king.
Seeing that Jiang Yunjian truly wasn’t affected by the comments, Bo Zhen added, “Since you’re already online, go ahead and repost Director Wu’s statement to show your thanks.”
This morning, Director Wu had posted on Weibo to clear up the false accusations that Jiang Yunjian was acting like a diva on set.
[Idle Director Wu: Been directing for decades, but this is the first time I’ve heard someone say a star was throwing tantrums on my set—how fresh. Just to be clear, if I ever had an unprofessional actor, I’d be the first to kick them out. No need for the media to worry on my behalf. Everyone has important things to deal with, so let’s have some mutual understanding. Yes, he took time off, but he made up for it with extra work. In fact, I’ll probably be squeezing even more out of Jiang Yunjian from now on. His fans better not feel too bad for him. Alright, move along, everyone.]
Jiang Yunjian reposted it with a caption: [Thank you, Director Wu. Feel free to exploit me as much as you like.]
Even though the other rumor wasn’t addressed directly, seeing the media account disappear alongside Director Wu’s statement was enough for netizens to mark the situation as a false accusation.
“That takes care of half the problem. I’ll handle the rest. You just focus on your scenes,” Bo Zhen reassured him.
“I wasn’t worried, Brother,” Jiang Yunjian said sincerely. “Thank you.”
“…What’s with that? After all these years, you’re thanking me?” Bo Zhen clicked his tongue. “If you really think I have it tough cleaning up after you, just make me more money.”
Jiang Yunjian knew he was trying to lighten the mood. He smiled and responded seriously, “Alright.”
He closed Weibo and checked WeChat.
Cheng Peng had left at six in the morning, saying there was a family emergency that required him to fly out immediately. He hadn’t even gone home—his secretary had taken his luggage straight to Jiang Yunjian’s place to pick him up.
The message Jiang Yunjian had sent two hours ago—*Are you okay?*—still hadn’t received a reply.
Just as he was about to hand his phone over to Bo Zhen for safekeeping, a message popped up.
[Cheng Peng: Something happened.]
[Cheng Peng: What are you doing? Can you take a call?]
Jiang Yunjian walked out onto the balcony and called him immediately.
After just a few hours, Cheng Peng’s voice already sounded much more exhausted. “Are you on set?”
“I am,” Jiang Yunjian answered quickly. “What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I doubt it,” Cheng Peng said. “A relative passed away.”
Jiang Yunjian fell silent. After a moment, he finally said, “…My condolences.”
“They were old,” Cheng Peng sighed, standing outside in a black suit. “But even when you expect it, it’s still hard to accept when the time actually comes.”
It was his granduncle—the one who used to take him kite-flying when he was little.
Jiang Yunjian’s heart sank. The words *Can I come keep you company?* were on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say them.
The filming schedule was tight; he couldn’t afford to delay any further. And besides… Cheng Peng probably didn’t need him there.
“This morning, I actually thought about bringing you with me,” Cheng Peng said, interrupting his thoughts. “But I didn’t want to interfere with your filming, so I let it go.”
Jiang Yunjian froze, mouth slightly open, unsure of what to say.
A voice called for Cheng Peng on the other end. He responded briefly before saying, “Alright, go back to work. I need to head inside.”
Jiang Yunjian blurted out, “Wait.”
Cheng Peng paused. “Hm?”
“My phone will be on 24/7,” Jiang Yunjian said softly. “…If you ever feel lonely or sad, you can call me anytime.”
His face flushed the moment he finished speaking. The truth was, he was the one who wanted to talk to Cheng Peng.
“Alright.” Cheng Peng’s lips curled slightly, the tension in his chest easing at last. “If I miss you, I’ll call.”
After a long day of hosting guests, Cheng Peng finally saw them off.
It was tradition here—when an elder passed away, the family had to hold a wake for seven days. Since it was a local custom, he couldn’t object, so he simply went along with it.
Returning to his childhood home, he loosened his tie as he stepped into his room. Just then, his phone rang.
It was Yue Wenwen. “Pengpeng, are you okay?”
“It’s nothing,” Cheng Peng asked, “What’s wrong?”
“I’m looking at plane tickets,” Yue Wenwen said. “Xiao Ranran and I talked it over, and we thought—maybe we should come over and keep you company for a few days.”
“No need. I’m not a child. If you two come, I’ll have to take care of you instead,” Cheng Peng refused.
After some back and forth, Yue Wenwen asked again, “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll be back in a few days.”
“…Alright then.” Yue Wenwen closed the ticket-booking app. “But there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“What is it?”
Yue Wenwen: “It’s nothing too important. Someone just asked me to pass along a message. That Weibo account that defamed Jiang Yunjian—the team behind it, I happen to know them. Not well, but we’ve interacted before. They bombarded me with messages all night, hoping you’d show them some mercy. They’re willing to compensate and even offered to work for Jiang Yunjian for free in the future. You might not know this, but their team is actually quite capable. If they genuinely want to be useful to Jiang Yunjian, I figured it wouldn’t be a bad deal, so I agreed to relay their message.”
Cheng Peng listened, but his brows only furrowed tighter. “Tell them Jiang Yunjian does not accept a settlement.”
Yue Wenwen was stunned for a moment, then chuckled, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “Is it that he doesn’t accept, or that you don’t accept?” He added meaningfully, “From what I can tell, Jiang Yunjian has a pretty good temper. He probably wouldn’t mind letting this blow over.”
“It’s the same either way,” Cheng Peng said bluntly.
A settlement? If he weren’t tied up at the moment, he wouldn’t even give that media company a chance to beg for help.
Last night, on his way to Jiang Yunjian’s home, he had glanced at the comments under the exposé post. The things people were saying were vile.
He had felt heartache the entire way there. Then, the moment Jiang Yunjian opened the door, he had started apologizing—only adding fuel to the fire.
Since he couldn’t take it out on Jiang Yunjian, he had no choice but to direct his anger elsewhere.
Yue Wenwen laughed. “Got it. Pengpeng, what’s this? Your ninety-ninth crush?”
Cheng Peng chuckled but didn’t answer.
After hanging up, he finally murmured softly, “The first.”
The first person who had made him feel so concerned, so protective, so unwilling to let go—was Jiang Yunjian.
—
Bo Zhen could clearly tell that Jiang Yunjian had been counting the days lately.
Even without asking, he could guess what he was waiting for. “Stop staring at the calendar. Even if Cheng Peng comes back, you don’t have any time off to go see him.”
The script had been sent back for last-minute revisions, meaning several key scenes had to be reshot. With such a tight schedule, Director Wu had even canceled their one-day-a-week break.
Jiang Yunjian, however, didn’t seem to mind. “I know.”
He was indeed waiting for Cheng Peng to return. They didn’t have to meet—just knowing they were in the same city would be enough to make him happy.
Sometimes, Jiang Yunjian thought that having a secret crush was actually quite nice. He liked the feeling of having his emotions swayed by Cheng Peng—joy, anger, sorrow, excitement. It was a strange, intoxicating sensation.
Then, one day, in the middle of a shoot, Jiang Yunjian received a message. He had been nominated for Best Actor at the Nianhua Awards.
The Nianhua Awards were the most prestigious television awards in the country—unrivaled. Winning was one thing, but even being nominated was an honor.
So, when they wrapped up filming early that evening, Director Wu waved a hand and declared they were going out to celebrate.
The crew had been exhausted for so long. Hearing that they could finally have some fun, everyone cheered up instantly. Jiang Yunjian didn’t want to spoil the mood, so he had Bo Zhen book a VIP room at a karaoke bar and invited everyone along.
“Can you drink?” Director Wu asked.
Jiang Yunjian raised his glass with both hands and clinked it against the director’s.
When Director Wu had posted that Weibo post earlier, it wasn’t just to stand up for Jiang Yunjian. He genuinely thought the kid was great—talented and hardworking. Even though Jiang Yunjian had taken quite a few leaves of absence lately, his progress hadn’t fallen behind at all. He was also willing to do retakes over and over again to match the director’s vision.
Overall, Director Wu was very satisfied with him. So, while they were drinking, he couldn’t help but take extra care of him.
“Director Wu, I don’t think he should drink anymore. We still have shooting tomorrow,” the assistant director finally stepped in to stop him.
“Oh, right. My bad, I got carried away.” Director Wu smacked his forehead and turned to Jiang Yunjian. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” Jiang Yunjian smiled. “Once we wrap up filming, I’ll drink with you anytime.”**
After letting his assistant know, Jiang Yunjian stepped outside to get some fresh air and sober up.
The mix of cigarette smoke and perfume inside the private room was overwhelming. He took out his phone, about to message Cheng Peng.
“Xiao Jiang.”
A familiar female voice called out.
Turning around, he saw Yu Luo. Jiang Yunjian nodded at her and subtly leaned back a little. “Do you need something?”
“It was too stuffy inside, so I came out for some fresh air,” Yu Luo said, not noticing his subtle movement. She was wearing nude-colored stockings that made Jiang Yunjian feel cold just looking at them. Taking out a cigarette pack, she lit one for herself and then asked, “Do you smoke?”
Jiang Yunjian shook his head. “No, thank you.”
The air outside was fresh, but with Yu Luo around, it didn’t feel all that comfortable. He said, “Take your time. I’m heading back in.”
Yu Luo was quick, grabbing the hem of his coat. “Wait a second—”
But Jiang Yunjian was even quicker. He immediately pulled away, keeping a certain distance between them, his brows furrowed. “If you have something to say, let’s talk about it tomorrow during filming.”
On his way back to the private room, he was already thinking of an excuse to leave early when his phone suddenly vibrated.
He glanced at the caller ID, his body instinctively changing direction as he picked up. “Good evening.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
Jiang Yunjian called out, “President Cheng?”
“What are you doing?” Cheng Peng’s voice sounded a little tired.
“I’m at a KTV with the crew,” Jiang Yunjian answered truthfully.
Cheng Peng hummed in acknowledgment. “And?”
Jiang Yunjian was puzzled. “What?”
“Is the balcony breeze nice and cool?” Cheng Peng chuckled. “I was only gone for a few days, and you’ve already found someone else?”
Jiang Yunjian held his phone, stunned for a moment. After processing what had just been said, he immediately responded, “No, I haven’t—wait, where are you?”
“Downstairs,” Cheng Peng replied. “Come down.”
Jiang Yunjian ran all the way down.
By the time he reached Cheng Peng, he was still slightly out of breath.
Cheng Peng stood in front of a black car. Seeing him, he chuckled. “Out of breath after just a short run? Your stamina is pretty weak.”
“I didn’t want to keep you waiting,” Jiang Yunjian sniffed and asked, “Weren’t you supposed to come back tomorrow?”
At those words, the smile on Cheng Peng’s face vanished.
He lifted a cake box with his index finger. “I came back early just to congratulate my boyfriend on his nomination… only to find out he was busy cozying up to the female lead.”
Jiang Yunjian thought he was hallucinating. He froze, completely forgetting to explain. “Boy—boyfriend? You and me? I… huh?”
Seeing his shocked expression, Cheng Peng raised an eyebrow. “What? Trying to back out now?”
“No, I wouldn’t back out,” Jiang Yunjian said in a daze. He murmured, “But… when did this happen?”
Cheng Peng frowned. “What do you mean?”
Jiang Yunjian looked lost. “Didn’t you… not agree yet?”
“Me?” Cheng Peng chuckled. “I was the one who confessed to you first. If anything, you should be the one agreeing to me.”
Jiang Yunjian was completely dumbfounded.
Seeing his blank expression, Cheng Peng asked, “Did you forget?”
Of course, Jiang Yunjian hadn’t forgotten—Cheng Peng had said he liked him.
“Sorry, I didn’t know… I thought at the time you were just…” Jiang Yunjian trailed off.
Cheng Peng frowned. “Just what?”
Jiang Yunjian:, “…comforting me.”
“…I’d have to be insane to use those words just to comfort you,” Cheng Peng finally understood. So, all this time, they had been on completely different pages? He found it amusing. “Then what did you think I was doing these past few nights, video-calling you? Was that for comfort too?”
Jiang Yunjian could barely hear anymore.
His mind buzzed like it had two bees trapped inside, endlessly humming.
Seeing his silence, Cheng Peng sighed softly and placed the cake on the car roof. “Forget it, just—”
“Don’t!” Jiang Yunjian panicked, reaching out to grab his hand. “Don’t say ‘forget it.’”
Cheng Peng laughed lightly. “I don’t mean that. I mean, forget what happened before.”
Then, he softened his voice. “I’ll say it again… I like you.”
He looked into Jiang Yunjian’s eyes and spoke slowly. “Think about it, okay?”
Jiang Yunjian felt like he was drunk.
But even if this were a dream, he would still use all his strength to respond.
“No need to think about it,” he choked out. “I don’t need to think.”
Cheng Peng was satisfied. “Then, should we change the nature of our relationship?”
Jiang Yunjian nodded frantically.
Cheng Peng asked again, “What kind of relationship do you want us to have?”
Jiang Yunjian took a step closer.
“A relationship,” he said, using all his strength to wrap his arms around Cheng Peng, burying his face into his neck. “I want to be in a relationship with you.”
Under the moonlight, at the alley entrance beside the KTV, in front of a black car, the two men held each other tightly.
“Alright.” Cheng Peng couldn’t hide his smile as he ruffled Jiang Yunjian’s hair. “Have you ever dated before?”
Jiang Yunjian’s heart pounded wildly. “No.”
“It’s actually the same as before,” Cheng Peng lowered his voice, explaining each word clearly. “The only difference is, the rights I have, you have too. I’ll take whatever I want from you, and you can do the same—anything you want, anything at all. Like right now, what do you want?”
Jiang Yunjian’s mouth felt dry.
“I want…”
His voice was soft. “I want you to kiss me.”
—
The black car was parked steadily by the roadside. The driver stood beside it, hands clasped in front of him, bracing against the cold wind.
Inside the car, Jiang Yunjian was pressed against the door as he was kissed, deeply and thoroughly. The entire cabin was filled with the bittersweet scent of a long-harbored crush, now tinged with the budding fragrance of a newly blossomed romance.
Huge shoutout to @_nyanmaru_ on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.
