The Sickly Beauty Gives Up Struggling [Rebirth] Chapter 215

As soon as Lin Zhen’s plane landed, a car from the production crew whisked him straight to the set. Still too sleepy to open his eyes, Sister Mei had already prepared coffee and an ice pack for him in the car.

Lin Zhen downed a shot of espresso in one gulp and pressed the ice pack against his eyes, shivering from the sudden cold.

Jian Fu was also tired and desperately wanted to head back to the hotel to catch up on sleep, but the thought of accompanying Lin Zhen kept him struggling to stay awake.

When they arrived at the set, Lin Zhen put down the ice pack and was immediately pulled into the makeup room. Meanwhile, Jian Fu, stifling yawns, wandered off to find the director.

The director, looking visibly puffy and swollen, was still braving the blazing sun to inspect the set design.

Jian Fu approached him. “Director, for Lin Zhen’s fight scene later, can I try being an extra?”

The director chuckled. “You want to act? Sure, I’ll even give you a line.”

Jian Fu had spent so much time hanging out under the director’s shaded tent that they’d become quite familiar with each other. The director, aware of Jian Fu’s influential background, had always been polite to him.

“It’s not that I really want to act,” Jian Fu said, “I just want to keep Lin Zhen company.”

He thought being an extra with a couple of lines would be easy. But once he was fully made up and in costume, he realized what real hardship was.

The lead actors’ costumes were custom-made by designers, each piece exquisite and meticulously cleaned every day. Extras, however, had no such privileges.

The extras’ costumes were old, worn by countless people before, and carried an indescribable odor.

Jian Fu, who had never experienced this kind of discomfort, stared at the pile of musty, mismatched clothing for a good twenty minutes, building up the mental resolve to wear one.

But since he’d already promised Lin Zhen, he gritted his teeth, pinched his nose, and forced himself to put it on.

The moment he put on the costume, he felt like his soul had left his body—what remained was just a hollow shell going through the motions.

When Lin Zhen finished his makeup, he ran out to look for Jian Fu. He found him standing there with his head bowed in despair, listening lifelessly as the assistant director explained the scene.

The assistant director kindly gave Jian Fu a line: “Even a blind man like you dares to break through this inescapable net?”

Lin Zhen walked over to Jian Fu and was about to pat him on the shoulder. “How’s it going? Learning your part?”

Jian Fu suddenly stepped back, putting distance between them. With a frown and a pitiful look, he said, “This costume stinks. Don’t come near me.”

Having spent so much time on set, Lin Zhen was already used to it. He shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

Jian Fu shook his head vigorously, like a rattling drum: “No way. I can’t stand myself.”

He was determined not to leave even the tiniest bad impression on Lin Zhen.

Lin Zhen smiled helplessly. Ever since Jian Fu had put on the costume, he’d been avoiding him, keeping a noticeable distance. Lin Zhen hadn’t managed to exchange a single private word with him all morning, not until it was time to start filming.

The reborn general stood with a cold, stern expression, hair flowing in the breeze, holding a silver spear in his hand. Though his eyes were sightless, they carried an air of menace.

The enemy soldiers, armed with blades, encircled him tightly, their weapons gleaming with an icy light under the sun.

Lin Zhen tightened his grip on the silver spear and took a step forward.

Playing the enemy commander, Jian Fu raised his blade and said, “You, a blind man, dare to break through this inescapable trap?”

The director immediately called, “Cut! Brother Jian, your voice is too soft. When we shoot, you need to be more ruthless, more scornful, more arrogant. You’re supposed to look down on him.”

Jian Fu puffed up his chest and shouted louder, “You, a blind man, dare to break through this inescapable trap?”

Lin Zhen couldn’t help but laugh on set. It was clear Jian Fu had no talent for acting.

The director shook his head again. “The tone still isn’t right. It’s not just about being loud.”

Jian Fu, feeling aggrieved, said, “I really can’t yell at him. Maybe someone else should say the line instead.”

He wasn’t a professional actor and couldn’t slip into character that quickly. To him, Lin Zhen wasn’t some fierce general—he was just the guy who had been napping on his shoulder not long ago.

Lin Zhen had been smiling happily, but hearing Jian Fu’s words, his expression softened into something gentler.

This fool, always so effortlessly endearing.

The behind-the-scenes team, quick on their feet, snapped a photo of Lin Zhen at that exact moment. Bathed in sunlight, the general’s eyes curved and lips quirked into a soft smile, his entire figure wrapped in a golden glow.

The image was stunning, full of emotion.

Jian Fu’s line was quickly reassigned to another extra.

The fight scene itself was filmed swiftly—it was a classic moment of Lin Zhen’s character, now a master of martial arts, defeating the enemy army with ease, leaving no survivors.

Jian Fu, naturally, was one of those “enemies.” He rolled across the ground a few times and then laid still.

When the scene was over and the director called a wrap, Lin Zhen went over to help Jian Fu up.

At this point, Jian Fu was covered in dirt, smelling terrible, and his costume was a disaster. He didn’t dare let Lin Zhen come close. With a sudden kip-up, he jumped to his feet. “Finally done! I’m going to shower!”

“Hey…” Lin Zhen started to say something, but stopped himself. He pulled back his hand, watching Jian Fu dash off to change out of his costume.

Jian Fu couldn’t stand it another second. He took off the costume and immediately splurged on a high-priced taxi to a city bathhouse.

At the bathhouse, he spent over two hours scrubbing himself, nearly peeling off a layer of skin in the process.

By the end, the sour, stinky smell of the costume was gone entirely. He was fresh, clean, and smelling delightfully fragrant.

Jian Fu returned to the hotel, smelling fresh and clean.

Lin Zhen didn’t finish filming until later in the afternoon. As soon as he entered the room, Jian Fu eagerly approached him with a grin. “Off work now? What do you want to eat tonight?”

Lin Zhen glanced at him, then gave him a playful push on the chest. “Weren’t you the one who wanted to stay far away from me? Don’t get too close.”

Jian Fu adamantly denied it. “When did I ever say I wanted to stay away from you?”

Lin Zhen gave him a long, meaningful look, then turned away and headed to the bathroom to shower.

When Lin Zhen emerged from the shower, exhaustion hit him like a wave, and sleepiness weighed heavy on his body.

But just as he moved toward the bed, Jian Fu threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Lin Zhen’s waist. “Aren’t you going to eat? You should eat something, especially after a full day of action scenes.”

Lin Zhen, pinned by Jian Fu’s grip, turned his head and gave him a sidelong glance. “Why are you clinging to me again?”

Jian Fu muttered, “I didn’t want to stink this morning, but otherwise, I’d love to stick to you all the time.”

The words carried a subtle intimacy—no ordinary “brothers” would long to cling to each other like that.

Lin Zhen’s eyelids fluttered, and he pressed his lips together slightly.

Jian Fu, still holding tightly to Lin Zhen’s waist, seemed to grow bolder now that he was clean and confident.

Lin Zhen sighed. “I’m too tired. Let me nap first, and I’ll eat after I wake up.”

Jian Fu replied instantly, “Then I’ll nap with you!”

Lin Zhen: “…”

Before Lin Zhen could refuse, Jian Fu flopped onto the bed, pulling Lin Zhen down with him and wrapping them both in the blanket.

Lin Zhen was too tired to protest, too drained to even lift a finger. His heavy eyelids closed as he murmured, “You’ll be going back to school soon, right? That means you’ll have to leave.”

If Jian Fu left, life would become much duller.

Jian Fu asked, “Aren’t you going back? I thought you were only filming for a month?”

Half-asleep, Lin Zhen replied, “The schedule’s tight. Might need a few extra days.”

Jian Fu pressed on, “What about your graduation performance?”

Lin Zhen mumbled faintly, “I’ll rehearse my lines and practice alone. When I return to school, I’ll rehearse with my classmates.”

Jian Fu could hear Lin Zhen’s voice growing softer and softer, a clear sign he was about to fall asleep.

Still, Jian Fu couldn’t resist asking one more question. “What role are you playing in your graduation performance? Is it a big part?”

Lin Zhen was quiet for a long moment, and Jian Fu thought he had already fallen asleep. Finally, Lin Zhen softly replied, “A servant in the Republican era who seduces the mistress of the house. It’s not a big part, but it’s challenging.”

With that, Lin Zhen’s breathing evened out, and he slipped fully into slumber.

Jian Fu blinked in surprise, intrigued by the role.

He stared at the ceiling, marveling, “Wow, how does he seduce her?”

The question was just a muttered thought, born from curiosity.

Given Lin Zhen’s rising fame, he usually played noble or heroic leading roles. This kind of grounded, morally ambiguous character seemed like something only a graduation performance would allow.

Lin Zhen was shy by nature, gentle and reserved. The role was indeed a challenge, likely assigned by his instructor to help him break out of his shell.

As Jian Fu’s thoughts wandered, the supposedly asleep Lin Zhen suddenly rolled over and pressed him down.

Lin Zhen’s eyes were slightly misty, his breath warm, and his gaze soft as he looked at Jian Fu. His fingers slipped beneath Jian Fu’s shirt, lightly brushing over his abs.

The touch was gentle, leaving a tingling sensation wherever it landed.

Lin Zhen lowered his head slowly, his long eyelashes trembling, and his lips brushed against Jian Fu’s in a delicate, fleeting motion.

It wasn’t a deep kiss—just a soft graze. But the intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming.

“That’s how you seduce someone.”

Then he flopped back onto the bed, spreading his arms out, and fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

Jian Fu laid there, eyes wide open, his body trembling slightly with excitement. His mind felt short-circuited, as if all that remained was the sensation of Lin Zhen’s touch and the lingering warmth of his lips.

Lin Zhen kissed him?

That was a kiss, right?!

Lin Zhen’s lips were so soft and red, and the strands of hair falling against Jian Fu’s ears left them ticklish.

Thank you, graduation performance! Thank you, instructor! Thank you, servant-seducing-the-mistress role!

Jian Fu wanted to jump up and set off fireworks in celebration. He could barely restrain himself from calling all his relatives to announce that the person he loved had kissed him!

Though the object of his affection was fast asleep and oblivious to the chaos he’d caused, Jian Fu couldn’t care less.

Overcome with joy, he wrapped his arms and legs around Lin Zhen like a gleeful little snake, snuggling close. He whispered repeatedly in Lin Zhen’s ear, “Lin Zhen, Lin Zhen, Lin Zhen…”

His heart was so full of love that it felt like bubbles of affection were flowing through his veins. He could only express his feelings in the simplest, most direct way—by calling Lin Zhen’s name over and over.

Finally, his constant whispering and the warmth of his embrace roused Lin Zhen from his deep sleep.

People woken abruptly from their slumber are rarely in a good mood. Lin Zhen swatted Jian Fu lightly. “Behave, or I won’t kiss you again next time.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet. I like you,” Jian Fu replied without shame or hesitation, still clinging tightly to Lin Zhen and refusing to let go.

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