Chapter 73: So, the One You’re Giving Up On—is Me?

Zhou Yili often came to visit the set.
As a result, everyone in the crew knew that Shen Jixing seemed to have a mysterious... little boyfriend.
Yet no one knew who he was.

"Phew."

Zhou Yili removed his hat and mask, finally able to breathe in the summer heat. "I'm suffocating."
He tossed the hat aside, just as Shen Jixing walked in.
The young master had probably never been so aggrieved.
Shen Jixing approached with a small fan, and Zhou Yili called out to him.

"Throw it over here."

Zhou Yili buttoned his casually opened collar. "Sit across from me, I smell bad."
Shen Jixing glanced at him without stopping.

"You don’t," Shen Jixing directed the fan’s breeze at him, his gaze dropping to the water stains winding down Zhou Yili’s slender neck, disappearing into the alluring curve of his collarbone. "It’s not like I haven’t seen it before."

Zhou Yili’s mind flashed to that night.
A bead of water had formed on his chin and fallen onto the flawless, icy collarbone.
He was stunned for a couple of seconds, feeling a bit awkward as he turned his head away.

Pure as could be.

Zhou Yili lowered his eyes, opened the lunch box he brought, pushed it across the table, and with a lazy smile said, "Eat by yourself today, little baby Teacher Shen."

...

The first time Zhou Yili asked him to eat, Shen Jixing had naturally sat on his lap.
He suddenly noticed Zhou Yili’s other hand pulling at the chair.
He calmly closed his eyes.
He wanted to die.

After that, Zhou Yili always held him while eating when he came to visit.
But now, as the weather grew hotter, it was no easy feat for Zhou Yili to drop by—the crew didn’t allow outside vehicles, so he had to walk a long way, fully bundled up, carrying the lunch box.

"Zhou Yili, maybe from now on..."

"From now on, maybe I’ll cook for you myself. Aunt Zhang’s skills have slipped lately, I feel like you don’t eat as much as before."
Zhou Yili propped his hand on his forehead, speaking thoughtfully.

Shen Jixing’s words—‘You don’t need to come anymore’—stuck in his throat.

"That’s not true," Shen Jixing explained for Aunt Zhang. "It’s just been hot lately, so I haven’t eaten much."

He lowered his eyes and continued to eat calmly, while Zhou Yili watched him, head propped up.
Much like in the music room—a gaze that could last all day.

Shen Jixing finished eating, and Chu Wen knocked at the door: "Next scene is moving to another set. Remember to change into your second costume."

"Okay."

Since Zhou Yili started visiting often, Chu Wen no longer entered the lounge.
After a brief silence, Chu Wen turned and left.

Shen Jixing found his second costume; when he looked back, Zhou Yili had already packed up.
The young man shrugged helplessly. "My superstar’s shelf life is up again, so I’ll come back tomorrow."

Shen Jixing’s lashes lowered for a couple of seconds.
He was about to say something, but what came out was, "Wait, could you help me with something?"

"What is it?"

Shen Jixing’s fingers brushed over the costume, pulling out a complicated ancient white robe.
"This one’s a bit tricky to put on. Can you help me tie the sash?"

Zhou Yili’s gaze swept over the flowing white robe in his hands.

"Me?"

Shen Jixing nodded in affirmation, casually tearing off the A6 scene costume tag and crumpling it before tossing it behind him.

The dressing room was suffused with a subtle, ambiguous atmosphere.
The young man was no match for such teasing, and somehow it escalated—he buried his face in Shen Jixing’s shoulder, nipping him gently. Every inch of this person was beautiful.

Shen Jixing tugged lightly at his hair. "Don’t leave any marks."

Zhou Yili chuckled lowly, retracting his teeth and switching to gentle licks, his finely chiseled features smiling. "You’re going to be late again, superstar."

"Do I look like a little Daji?"

...

From then on, the king no longer attended court.

Shen Jixing pressed against his damp black hair. For some reason, he always felt a tinge of guilt in letting himself sink into this.
Zhou Yili seemed as if he shouldn’t be like this.

...

Shen Jixing emerged from the lounge, seeing Chu Wen waiting for him.
Chu Wen glanced behind him—the sixth scene’s costume was tossed messily on the sofa.

"Are you leaving?" Shen Jixing asked.

Chu Wen took a deep breath and said, "Are you just going to let him fool around like that?"
He instinctively assumed it was the young man’s request.
Shen Jixing changed for him to see.

"It’s none of your business," Shen Jixing disliked unnecessary explanations. "If there’s a problem, I’ll handle it."

Chu Wen couldn’t imagine Shen Jixing indulging anyone’s closeness. That wasn’t the person he knew.

"Can you handle it?"

Shen Jixing stopped, his sharp, cold brows and eyes fixed on him. "What do you mean?"
His gaze was probing, incisive.

Chu Wen avoided his eyes. "It’s nothing. Just reminding you."

...

This time, Shen Jixing’s shoot didn’t last long.
About a week later, on the day of wrap, Zhou Yili arrived late.
He came still wearing his school uniform, youthful and exuberant. "I thought if I was late, you’d have already left."

It was the first time Shen Jixing saw him in school uniform, and he looked twice.

"No, I was waiting for you."

Zhou Yili let out a soft hiss.
He wondered whether meeting Shen Jixing at seventeen or eighteen was a blessing or a curse—this person always teased him effortlessly.

Today’s meal tasted a bit off.
It turned out Zhou Yili had cooked it himself.

Shen Jixing nodded, eating more than he had in all the previous days.

Zhou Yili couldn’t stop smiling. "Looks like your appetite’s back now that filming’s over."

"Mm."

Shen Jixing wiped his lips, paused in silence, and asked, "Don’t you have anything you want to ask me?"

That one month they deliberately avoided mentioning.
Neither had brought it up.
As if afraid to probe into what had happened to the other.

"I do."
Zhou Yili idly played with his fingers and ring. "Where do I go to find you next?"

It was as if, with this brief cameo over, they would return to the script of real life.

"That’s not what I meant," Shen Jixing said quietly.

"Nothing else," Zhou Yili replied as always.

The small lounge fell silent, those seven days had held so much warmth and ease, making this moment feel especially heavy.

Zhou Yili was the first to break the silence: "Actually, there is one thing."

Shen Jixing looked up at him.

"I want to know, why didn’t you tell me in advance? Aren’t we..."
The most intimate of people?

For some reason, Zhou Yili couldn’t bring himself to say those words.
He always felt Shen Jixing didn’t see them as the closest of people—otherwise, how could he keep everything from him?

...

Shen Jixing had never expected that question.
He thought Zhou Yili wanted the answer to some problem, but he forgot that Zhou Yili never cared about answers.
What he always wanted to know was his thoughts.

"Was I... too rough with you that day?"
Zhou Yili still held his hand, tracing the little six-pointed star ring, his delicate, lazy brows lowered. "Did I make you uncomfortable? It was my first time, I don’t know how to do these things, I might have been too..."

"Zhou Yili."

"I’m here, go ahead."

Shen Jixing suddenly felt—
That arrogant, wanton youth had become flustered and cautious because of him.
He shouldn’t be like this.

"I never had the chance to tell you, afraid you wouldn’t accept it."
Shen Jixing let him play with his fingers, his voice calm. "Since I chose this path, it means I’m destined to give up a lot."

Shen Jixing’s voice was beautiful.
Cool and clear as broken jade, flowing like water in midsummer—when he spoke patiently, it was comforting.

Shen Jixing vaguely remembered using all his strength to organize his words.
But he couldn’t recall what he said at that moment.
Only Zhou Yili’s voice remained, crystal clear.

He stubbornly held the cool palm, lowered his gaze with a slight smile. "So what you’re giving up—is it me?"