After a long bout of verbal parrying and reminiscing, they finally got down to business. Zheng Kunyu asked, "I heard your company is planning to invest in *Fierce Spring Water*? I remember you saying before that the investment wouldn't be less than fifty million."
Ruan Qiuji spoke candidly. "That depends on the final lineup. If the script is guaranteed, I’ll invest as much as it takes."
"I’ve read the script. Since the original author handled the adaptation themselves, there shouldn't be any major issues."
Ruan Qiuji smiled. "A novel is a novel; a movie is a movie."
These words sounded familiar to Qi Bailu. During their first encounter in the lounge earlier that night, he had also said, "A movie is just a movie." Qi Bailu glanced at Ruan Qiuji, only to find that the man was quick to notice; Ruan shifted his gaze to look directly at him, where he sat slightly behind and to the side of Zheng Kunyu.
Qi Bailu’s thumb brushed against the cigarette filter as he raised it to take a drag. Ruan Qiuji’s eyes flickered, and he followed suit, taking a puff of his own. Without looking closely, it was hard to tell exactly who Qi Bailu was watching, but Ruan Qiuji was certain that the young man had been staring at him just a moment ago.
Their gazes locked for a heartbeat before drifting away as if nothing had happened, only to drift back one after the other a moment later, lingering through the haze of smoke. Qi Bailu knew how others usually looked at him, but Ruan Qiuji was different. He didn't stop his curiosity or his scrutiny just because Qi Bailu was "Zheng Kunyu’s man."
Having drunk too much, Qi Bailu’s eyes held a hint of innocent intoxication, making him look somewhat distracted. It was as if a mysterious crack had opened; the longer one looked into those eyes, the more one could glimpse within.
Zheng Kunyu leaned forward to pick up a glass from the coffee table. In that brief window, Qi Bailu and Ruan Qiuji looked each other straight in the eye. This time, the contact lasted only a few seconds before Zheng Kunyu suddenly turned his head toward Qi Bailu. Qi Bailu shifted his gaze to meet his, and Zheng Kunyu slowly rose, placing one glass in Qi Bailu’s hand while holding another himself.
Qi Bailu’s heart gave a small thud. He had truly drunk enough tonight, and his stomach was beginning to churn uncomfortably, but Zheng Kunyu was smiling at him—a smile that held not a shred of kindness.
The slowly rotating disco ball cast dappled, kaleidoscopic light across the room. The spots of light, like fluttering colored butterflies, shifted across Qi Bailu’s face, while an opaque emotion lay submerged in his dark eyes.
Meeting their gazes, Qi Bailu took the glass Zheng Kunyu offered. He tilted his head back slightly and drained the entire glass. The butterfly-like spots of light settled on his pale neck; when he lowered the glass, his lips glistened with a moist sheen.
Once he was certain Qi Bailu had finished the drink, Zheng Kunyu turned back and personally poured a glass of champagne for Ruan Qiuji. "I remember this is your favorite," Zheng Kunyu said placidly. It was impossible to tell if he had noticed the silent exchange between the two men beside him. Ruan Qiuji smoothly accepted the glass and raised it toward Zheng Kunyu.
They continued discussing *Fierce Spring Water*. Zheng Kunyu remarked, "I met with the producer last month. I heard they’re tapping Dai Ping for the lead, but the director hasn't been decided yet."
Yuntian Media was a massive empire, and Ruan Qiuji was only responsible for the investment side; he rarely meddled in production. The producer Zheng Kunyu mentioned was affiliated with Yuntian but had established an independent studio. He had produced many high-quality commercial films in the past, possessing a rare ability to balance a film's cultural depth with its marketability.
"What about Xue Fang?"
"That new director who does arthouse films? Can he handle a genre piece?"
"He’s been studying under Old Fang for years. With that kind of influence, he won't be half bad."
Ruan Qiuji fell into silent thought.
The "Old Fang" they spoke of was a highly successful Hong Kong director known for several brilliant crime films. Listening from the side, Qi Bailu realized Zheng Kunyu intended to promote Xue Fang. Professionally and personally, Xue Fang was a good choice. If he could secure the director's chair for *Fierce Spring Water*, then because he had previously collaborated with Qi Bailu on *Youth in the Afternoon*, he would naturally choose actors he had a rapport with for the production.
While waiting for a response, Zheng Kunyu gave Qi Bailu a look. Qi Bailu understood, lifting the champagne from the ice bucket and wrapping a towel around the base to pour more for Ruan Qiuji.
Seeing the movement, Ruan Qiuji cooperatively leaned in and reached out. The mouth of the champagne bottle aligned with the flute in Ruan Qiuji’s hand, and the wine poured out, the sound of splashing liquid filling the glass.
"Thank you."
"I worked with Director Xue once..."
"*Youth in the Afternoon*, right?"
Qi Bailu pulled the bottle back, giving him a guarded look. "So, Mr. Ruan has seen it."
"I’ve seen all of your films."
After saying this, and before Qi Bailu could react, Ruan Qiuji lowered his eyes to the glass in his hand. He continued, "That story didn't particularly move me, but the cinematography was beautiful."
"If everyone in investment were as knowledgeable as you, production companies wouldn't have to spend all day worrying," Zheng Kunyu said.
"Xue Fang does indeed deserve a chance."
Zheng Kunyu knew the matter was likely settled, provided Xue Fang could hold his own and leave a good impression on Ruan Qiuji. He raised his glass to clink it against Ruan’s, draining it in one go as a gesture of respect. After a moment, he said slowly, "Is the role of the second male lead still up for grabs?"
"When I got the script, I felt he would be a perfect fit," Zheng Kunyu added.
"Your eye for talent has always been good."
"He started in film. Studied acting in Beijing, has three films under his belt, and is currently filming a spy drama."
Qi Bailu had always disliked these occasions. He felt their tone was more akin to discussing an item on a shelf, so he poured himself another glass.
"Have you read the script too?" Ruan Qiuji asked, looking at Qi Bailu.
"I have."
"Do you like Pan Xiaoyun?"
Pan Xiaoyun was the second male lead in *Fierce Spring Water*. In the story, the high schooler Pan Xiaoyun commits murder and arson, becomes entangled with his teacher's wife, causes the death of his childhood sweetheart, and leads the middle-aged protagonist—a policeman—on a wild goose chase, nearly getting away scot-free. When he is finally arrested, the teacher's wife begs to see him, but Pan Xiaoyun claims he doesn't even know her. Anyone could see that while the policeman was the lead, the second lead’s role was more of a breakthrough, with the potential to win awards. The teams of many popular young actors were fighting for the part.
"I don't like him," Qi Bailu said bluntly. "You don't necessarily have to like a character to play him. Although there are parts of Pan Xiaoyun that deserve sympathy, in the end, he brought it all on himself."
Ruan Qiuji was used to actors saying all sorts of pretty things to win a role—claiming they shared common ground with the character or waxing poetic about the character's depth. He hadn't expected Qi Bailu to speak so frankly. He smiled. "And?"
"And—if it weren't for censorship and the box office, I believe the screenwriter would have wanted to write him even darker, focusing more on his psychological shifts rather than writing a bunch of tragic backstory for him." Qi Bailu shifted the conversation, setting his champagne glass down on the coffee table. He said tonelessly, "The way it's written now, you can only feel the people behind the scenes working hard to wring something out—like the audience's sympathy."
The remaining liquid in the glass took on a lovely rosé hue under the lights, a color that didn't easily bring bloodshed to mind. Yet, Qi Bailu’s words had a cruel core, as if one could see exactly how those plump, purple-red grapes were crushed, only to be reborn in a glass meant for tasting and amusement.
Ruan Qiuji gazed at Qi Bailu, his eyes reflecting a natural sense of appreciation. "You’re a smart man. I believe you’ll play Pan Xiaoyun well. However, I can't make the final call on my own; the production side still needs to see a final audition. You understand what I mean."
"I understand."
Qi Bailu hadn't expected to gain approval so easily. He didn't know if Ruan Qiuji was doing it for Zheng Kunyu’s sake or if he truly trusted his ability. Zheng Kunyu listened to their exchange without a hint of surprise on his face, merely watching Qi Bailu quietly.
Once the business talk was mostly concluded, Zheng Kunyu called for two hostesses to sing and liven the mood. Before long, the women entered gracefully, carrying fruit platters. Seeing Zheng Kunyu leaning in to whisper in Qi Bailu’s ear, they sat on either side of Ruan Qiuji, one lighting his cigarette and the other pouring his wine.
Ruan Qiuji smiled as he listened to them sing. They teased him into joining in on the male part of a love song, and he accepted the microphone, following the melody with ease. Ruan Qiuji’s voice was clear and bright; when he sang love songs, he possessed a deceptive tenderness. The hostesses exaggeratedly called him a "God of Songs," clapping enthusiastically to cheer him on.
With two more people laughing and talking in the booth, the atmosphere brightened considerably. As the song reached an emotional peak, Ruan Qiuji draped an arm over one of the hostesses' shoulders, and she leaned into his chest.
Qi Bailu also sang two songs, but because he was so drunk, he soon declined to sing more. He leaned back against the sofa with his eyes closed, waiting for the discomfort to pass. Lyrics of love and longing drifted into his ears, leaving him in a momentary daze. Seeing him like this, Zheng Kunyu placed a hand on the back of Qi Bailu’s neck and whispered, "Are you happy today?"
"I am."
When Zheng Kunyu didn't speak again for a long while, Qi Bailu opened his eyes to find Zheng Kunyu staring at him, as if inspecting whether his happiness was real or fake.
Seeing that Qi Bailu was a bit more alert, the hand on his neck applied pressure, pushing him forward—a signal for him to initiate a kiss. Qi Bailu didn't move, glancing toward Ruan Qiuji. The two hostesses were focused on singing with Ruan and hadn't noticed the movement here.
Zheng Kunyu’s grip shifted into a pinch, so Qi Bailu tilted his head up and kissed him.
The booth was stifling and dim. The kiss carried a thrill of risky provocation, as if they were trysting in public. The champagne left a rounded mouthfeel, and amidst the sweet fruitiness, Qi Bailu tasted a hint of bitterness. Zheng Kunyu had always been a skilled kisser; he held Qi Bailu firmly in his arms, the intimacy leaving Qi Bailu flushed and breathless.
Because he missed a lyric, Ruan Qiuji’s singing suddenly faltered for a moment. He cast a discreet glance toward the sofa across from him. From Ruan Qiuji’s angle, it was impossible to tell if they were kissing or merely speaking intimately, but his intuition told him that Zheng Kunyu was kissing Qi Bailu.
The kiss didn't last long. By the time Qi Bailu was released, the lyrics had just finished scrolling. Ruan Qiuji turned back to the screen, set down the microphone, and kissed the temple of the hostess in his arms, a half-smile playing on his lips.
