The car slowed to a stop by the roadside. Cheng Wenhui checked the address on his phone once more before pushing the door open and stepping out. This was his first time here, and the place was more... Cheng Wenhui couldn't quite find the word. He looked at the detached villa facing the lake, put away his phone, and pressed the doorbell. After several rings with no response, he pulled his phone back out of his down jacket pocket and dialed Qi Bailu’s number.
The call went unanswered for a long while. Cheng Wenhui took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. The natural lake was vast, with a shoreline over twenty meters wide. At this time of year, the surface had frozen over. Beijing had seen snow just two days prior, so the lake shimmered like a crystal mirror under the sunlight. A garden sat adjacent to the house; the winter plums seemed to be in bloom, as a crisp, clear fragrance reached the front gate.
A house in this location wasn't something money alone could buy. Zheng Kunyu was perhaps being overly generous, letting Qi Bailu live here all by himself. Cheng Wenhui had seen plenty in the world of high-society flings—extravagant spending, fits of jealous rage, and all sorts of bizarre, erotic gossip—but standing here today, the idiom "hiding a beauty in a golden house" inexplicably came to mind. Even the white house itself took on an air of mystery.
When the first call failed, Cheng Wenhui tried again. This time, it finally connected. Qi Bailu said only a single "Wait a moment" before hanging up abruptly. A few seconds later, the front gate automatically clicked open.
Cheng Wenhui carried his things inside, keeping his eyes forward. As he neared the entrance, Qi Bailu opened the door and waited for him. Cheng Wenhui was taken aback when he saw him. While Cheng was bundled in a thick down jacket, Qi Bailu wore only a pair of cargo pants and a white tank top tucked into his waistband. His hair had been shaved into a buzz cut, making his cheekbones appear more prominent and giving him a harder, colder edge.
"You shaved your head again?" Cheng Wenhui asked, still adjusting to the look.
"Yeah."
Cheng Wenhui walked inside, but stopped short after only a few steps. He finally understood why Qi Bailu hadn't answered the phone: he was... repairing a motorcycle?
Qi Bailu told him to make himself at home and walked back to the motorcycle lying on its side. He crouched down and resumed tinkering with various parts. The living room was incredibly spacious, and the motorcycle was positioned directly in front of a massive floor-to-ceiling window. Its metal components gleamed in the sunlight. Large sheets of old newspaper were spread beneath the bike, smeared everywhere with black engine oil. Qi Bailu’s hands were stained dark, leaving black prints on the disposable paper cup sitting nearby.
This was entirely unexpected. Over half a month ago, they had flown back to Beijing after spending New Year’s Eve in Shanghai. On the plane, Cheng Wenhui had clearly sensed that Zheng Kunyu and Qi Bailu were in another cold war. Following their usual routine, the two sat side-by-side without exchanging a single word. After landing, Zheng Kunyu had even lost his temper with Qi Bailu over a trivial matter like a haircut. It had startled Cheng Wenhui; after all, Zheng Kunyu was a man who rarely let his emotions show.
The cold war had persisted for over two weeks. As far as Cheng Wenhui knew, Zheng Kunyu hadn't taken Qi Bailu to a single social engagement, and he had stayed at his own apartment, never once setting foot in Qi Bailu’s home. Cheng Wenhui was the one fretting while the person concerned remained unbothered. He had come under the guise of delivering a script to gauge Qi Bailu’s mood, only to find him leisurely repairing a motorcycle as if nothing were wrong.
"Where did you get this?"
"A second-hand shop. They delivered it."
"Do you even know how to fix it?"
Qi Bailu glanced at him and pointed a finger toward a thick instruction manual on the floor. The answer was self-evident.
"..."
Cheng Wenhui knew Qi Bailu was preparing for his next role. The script for *Fierce Spring Water* included scenes of the protagonist repairing a vehicle, and the character Pan Xiaoyun was a "speedster." Qi Bailu had shaved his hair for the role as well, but Zheng Kunyu preferred him with long hair and had hoped he wouldn't cut it before the audition or the start of filming.
Last year, during the filming of *Anonymous Letter*, Zheng Kunyu had specifically suggested the director keep Qi Bailu’s hair long. But this year, for *How Much Grief the West Wind Brings*, the hair he had grown for so long was cut anyway. Zheng Kunyu had been dying for Qi Bailu’s hair to grow back out, and yet, here was the kid, immediately shaving it into a buzz cut.
Zheng Kunyu was intentionally giving Qi Bailu the cold shoulder, and Qi Bailu was perfectly happy with the peace and quiet. Cheng Wenhui understood this well, but while the two of them were at peace, he was not. He lived in constant fear that their taut relationship would suddenly snap.
He watched Qi Bailu twist a handle and tighten a screw while he made small talk, eventually steering the conversation toward the new movie. "I heard the auditions for *Fierce Spring Water* are coming up soon," Cheng Wenhui said. "The film is set to start shooting in early spring, around March."
Qi Bailu gave a noncommittal "Oh."
Cheng Wenhui waited, but seeing that Qi was still buried in his work, he spoke plainly. "Xiao Qi, don't you think you should talk to President Zheng about this? I heard the production side is very keen on Cai Tongyue for the second male lead. Cai Tongyue even called the original author to personally discuss his interpretation of the character."
"Talk about what?"
Though phrased as a question, Qi Bailu’s tone wasn't inquisitive. His face wore an expression that clearly said, *We have nothing to talk about.*
Cheng Wenhui looked at him and threw up his hands in a helpless "fine" gesture. He walked over to pour himself some water, acting as if he were in his own home. Qi Bailu rested the relatively clean back of his right hand against his forehead for a moment of thought, then lowered it to continue studying the ignition wiring. Cheng Wenhui sat on the sofa watching him work. Having finished his water, he was about to leave when Qi Bailu suddenly spoke without looking up.
"Did he send you?"
"Of course not."
Qi Bailu stood up and looked down at the motorcycle, one hand resting on the waist of his dirty cargo pants. "You came at the right time. I’ve booked a high-speed rail ticket to Hebei. I’m leaving tomorrow."
"What are you going to Hebei for?" Cheng Wenhui remembered that Qi Bailu’s hometown wasn't in Hebei.
"I have an appointment to meet the original author. I’ll probably stay there for a couple of days to look around. You haven't booked any appearances for me, have you? If you have, cancel them."
Cheng Wenhui shook his head and let out a sigh of relief. As a talent manager, it was impossible for him not to appreciate Qi Bailu’s professional drive. Moreover, the fact that Qi Bailu was willing to lower himself to personally fight for a role and an opportunity almost moved him.
"Do you want me to go with you?"
"I only booked a ticket for myself."
With the Lunar New Year approaching, tickets were naturally hard to come by. Cheng Wenhui knew it was too late now, so he simply said, "Then be careful. Call me if anything happens." He then remembered something and asked tentatively, "Did you tell President Zheng...?"
Qi Bailu looked at him with an expression that plainly said "No" and "You tell him for me." Cheng Wenhui’s small spark of moved emotion vanished instantly. He picked up his phone, waved a hand, and headed for the door. "Tell him yourself."
The wrench turned forcefully twice on a screw. Qi Bailu lowered his head, neither answering nor refusing. Cheng Wenhui reached the door and looked back at Qi Bailu, who was kneeling alone on the newspapers. Living in such a large house all by himself, it was impossible not to feel lonely. Remembering how Qi Bailu usually never left his hotel room, Cheng Wenhui spoke hesitantly. "Xiao Qi..."
"I know," Qi Bailu answered without turning around.
*What do you know? You're as stubborn as an ox,* Cheng Wenhui thought to himself.
***
Enjoying the story? Rate this novel:
Countless Blossoms: The Actor's Gamble | Chapter 25 | The Motorcycle | Novela.app | Novela.app
