As the end of the year approached, the workload began to pile up. After smoothing things over with the media and television stations, Cheng Wenhui took it upon himself to accept an interview for Qi Bailu. Zheng Kunyu’s original instructions were to cancel all of Qi Bailu’s engagements, but Qi Bailu hadn't replied to his messages for two days. Fearing a repeat of the incident from two years ago—though he only knew that Qi Bailu’s defiance had landed him in the hospital—Cheng Wenhui deliberated before finally calling Zheng Kunyu.
Zheng Kunyu hadn't quite woken up when he answered the phone. Cheng Wenhui expected him to lose his temper or hang up immediately, but after listening for a moment, Zheng Kunyu quickly divined his intentions. He let out a soft, cold chuckle and said bluntly, "So you've learned how to worry about people." As he spoke, the faint rustle of bedsheets came through the line. Zheng Kunyu’s voice drifted slightly further away as he said, "It's for you."
A few seconds later, Qi Bailu’s voice came through with a low "Hello." He sounded as though he had a slight cold. Cheng Wenhui told him about the interview and asked when would be a good time, noting that sooner was better. When Qi Bailu asked if he was free today, Zheng Kunyu interjected coldly from the side, "Tomorrow morning."
Qi Bailu remained silent, so Cheng Wenhui followed suit. "Bailu, I'll pick you up at ten tomorrow morning then."
"Mm."
Qi Bailu gave a brief acknowledgment and quickly hung up. Relieved, Cheng Wenhui set about contacting the media and the makeup artist for the following day.
The next morning, Cheng Wenhui arrived at the villa an hour early and waited in the living room. The second-hand motorcycle that had been dismantled and repaired countless times was still sitting there. Before long, Qi Bailu descended the stairs dressed in casual clothes. He looked listless; aside from a certain paleness in his complexion, his overall mood seemed stable.
Seeing that Zheng Kunyu wasn't with him, Cheng Wenhui asked, "Has President Zheng left?"
Qi Bailu didn't answer, only asking, "Have you had breakfast?"
Cheng Wenhui noticed his voice was off but didn't pry. Knowing Qi Bailu wanted to eat, he said, "Let's head out now then. How about some congee?"
Qi Bailu wrapped his scarf around his neck and followed him out without a word. In the car, he remained silent, staring blankly at the street scenery passing by the window. Cheng Wenhui could tell, however, that he enjoyed being out. This silence made Qi Bailu harder to read; he was like a bank of mist, increasingly unwilling to let anyone see his thoughts clearly.
"You might not know yet, but that business with the influencer has been resolved. Public opinion has completely flipped; everyone is very sympathetic toward you. And Chen Xiangfeng is finished."
Qi Bailu showed no sign of joy upon hearing this. After all, they shared a common fate; he couldn't bring himself to hate Chen Xiangfeng.
Cheng Wenhui was silent for a moment before asking, "You wanted to leave that night at the dinner, didn't you? Why?"
Qi Bailu turned his head and glanced at him, his tone relatively calm. "I thought you saw things quite clearly."
"I don't see them clearly at all. Bailu, you're the only one in this entire industry who would try to burn their bridges like that! Should I call you stupid or praise your courage?"
"You think I brought it on myself?"
"You did bring it on yourself. Two years and you haven't gained an ounce of sense. You knew perfectly well that doing that would only enrage him. To charge straight ahead without even planning an exit strategy—how is that any different from jumping off a cliff? Even if you could start over, what would you have left? No resources, no money, not even a single contact to lend a hand. Don't forget, you were the one who insisted on dropping out of school."
Cheng Wenhui grew more agitated as he spoke, eventually falling silent to compose himself. The memory of Qi Bailu’s stubbornness throughout this journey gave him a headache; the boy was simply too reckless and self-willed.
Two years ago, when Zheng Kunyu had assigned him to be Qi Bailu’s manager, it happened to be the period when the tension between the two was at its peak. After leaving Pingyao, Qi Bailu had returned to school once. Because the film he starred in was a hit and critically acclaimed, he had drawn crowds of onlookers both on and off campus. After that, Qi Bailu refused to return to his studies no matter what. When Zheng Kunyu told him to at least finish his degree, Qi Bailu had said bluntly: *I don't want to live in a lie, and I don't want to deceive myself.*
Fortunately, he was already showing signs of stardom and possessed a natural talent for acting. Whether he studied the craft formally didn't matter much; in fact, the rigid structure of the academy might have only stifled him. In the end, Zheng Kunyu agreed to his withdrawal.
Qi Bailu didn't argue back, which made Cheng Wenhui feel uneasy. He didn't know if Qi Bailu’s silence meant he had finally resigned himself to fate, or if it was a temporary melancholy, or perhaps the unsettling calm before a storm. During the meal, Qi Bailu reached for his water glass, inadvertently revealing red marks on his wrist—clearly the result of being restrained by Zheng Kunyu.
Cheng Wenhui noted, "During the interview later..."
Qi Bailu knew he had seen them. He said flatly, "I know."
The interview was set at an art museum. The reporter walked and talked with Qi Bailu, keeping the atmosphere relaxed and conversational. As the interview neared its end, Qi Bailu’s phone vibrated. Cheng Wenhui, who was holding it for him, instinctively glanced down and saw a friend request from a stranger. The profile picture looked familiar, as if he had seen it in his own contact list. Cheng Wenhui intended to check his own phone, but the cameraman called him over to discuss something, and the matter slipped his mind.
While Cheng Wenhui was confirming details with the media team, Qi Bailu walked over, picking up a bottle of mineral water while checking his messages. After a moment, he looked up and shot a quick glance at Cheng Wenhui. He seemed to hesitate for a beat before looking back down to reply. By the time Cheng Wenhui came over to leave, Qi Bailu had already tucked his phone away. Cheng Wenhui felt something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on what.
"Before we go back, can you drop me off somewhere?" Qi Bailu gave an address.
"You want to eat at that dessert shop? I can go with you."
Qi Bailu agreed. Cheng Wenhui drove him there, but before they could get out of the car, Qi Bailu suddenly said, "I want roast duck."
"Now?"
Cheng Wenhui was taken aback. He knew the shop Qi Bailu liked was always crowded. Although it was only a street away from the dessert shop, they would definitely have to wait in line.
Qi Bailu looked at him silently for a long time. Cheng Wenhui understood—he was being told to go wait in line. Considering how miserable Qi Bailu had been these past few days, Cheng Wenhui opened the door to let him out, muttering under his breath, "Keep your scarf up. Find a small private booth and stay put. Don't go wandering off...!"
Before he could finish, Qi Bailu was already walking into the shop. Cheng Wenhui watched him enter before turning the car around.
Qi Bailu didn't wander off. When the waiter came to ask what he needed, he directly gave a booth number. The waiter led him there. Upon entering the booth, Qi Bailu kept his hands in his pockets and looked at the person whose back was turned to him. The man set down his silver spoon and turned around with a smile. "You really are a man of your word. You came alone, I assume?"
The man was none other than Chen Xiangfeng—the man whose future and career had been nearly destroyed by the influencer scandal, and whom Qi Bailu had only met once before. He looked unwell, yet he was still dressed impeccably. Qi Bailu remained by the door, his voice devoid of emotion. "You went to a lot of trouble to get me here. What exactly do you want to say?"
Chen Xiangfeng was in no hurry. He smilingly gestured for him to sit and pushed a delicately prepared Christmas pudding toward him. Qi Bailu stared at the pudding. Chen Xiangfeng said, "You like this, don't you?"
Seeing Qi Bailu still standing there, Chen Xiangfeng stood up and reached out familiarly to take his arm. Qi Bailu sidestepped him and walked to the table, avoiding the touch, and sat opposite him. As he unwound his scarf, he discreetly scanned the booth. Chen Xiangfeng seemed to find this amusing. "Don't worry, there are no pinhole cameras or recording devices. I just want to talk."
Qi Bailu didn't touch the pudding. He said tonelessly, "Then speak."
"Does Zheng Kunyu know you're here?"
"If you want to know about him, you can go to him directly."
"He won't see me." Chen Xiangfeng picked up his silver spoon and continued eating.
"You want me to pass on a message?"
Chen Xiangfeng gazed at Qi Bailu’s face and slowly shook his head. His stare was peculiar, making Qi Bailu feel profoundly uncomfortable. Chen Xiangfeng said, "Eat first." As if sensing Qi Bailu’s wariness, Chen Xiangfeng used his own spoon to take a bite of the pudding. "It's not poisoned. I'm not that stupid."
Qi Bailu had no choice but to eat the pudding bite by bite. While he ate, Chen Xiangfeng continued to watch his face as if admiring a painting. When he finished and set down the spoon, he heard Chen Xiangfeng speak:
"I didn't expect he would still choose you. It was the same two years ago, and it's the same now."
Qi Bailu’s brow furrowed instantly. Having no patience for such talk, he stood up to leave. Chen Xiangfeng grabbed his hand. "I mean you no ill will."
But the look in his eyes remained strange—a mix of oddity and intense scrutiny. He signaled for Qi Bailu to sit and listen. Once Qi Bailu sat back down, Chen Xiangfeng said, "You certainly have personality. No wonder he likes you. He must like you very much."
Qi Bailu looked up in disbelief, staring at him as if he were a raving lunatic. Chen Xiangfeng pulled Qi Bailu’s hand closer, gripping it tightly. The smile on his face was thin, but it was still a smile. He leaned forward and whispered like he was sharing a secret, "But you'd better be careful. Don't end up like me. No matter how much he likes you, perhaps who I am today is who you will be tomorrow."
Qi Bailu had felt a modicum of sympathy for him before, but now he was convinced the man was insane. He tried to wrench his hand away, but Chen Xiangfeng said, "Don't look at me like that. I'm perfectly sane. I didn't come here to say something stupid out of spite or jealousy; this is just a small, well-intentioned warning. I only want to know one thing today, and then I'll be satisfied."
"He doesn't like me, and I have nothing in common with you. Let go."
Chen Xiangfeng, however, lowered his head and began studying Qi Bailu’s arm. With one hand gripping Qi Bailu’s wrist, he used the other to roll up Qi Bailu’s sleeve, continuing until the entire arm was bare. Caught off guard, Qi Bailu tried to stop him, but Chen Xiangfeng firmly held his arm, staring at it intently.
Qi Bailu thought he was looking at the suggestive red marks on his wrist, but that didn't seem to be it. He didn't know what Chen Xiangfeng was looking for. The man’s gaze searched his smooth skin, scraping over it like a blade. Finding nothing, Chen Xiangfeng stood up abruptly, dropping the arm, and roughly grabbed Qi Bailu’s left arm. Qi Bailu winced at the pain of the pull. "What are you doing! Let go of me!"
The thick winter clothing bunched at the elbow. Chen Xiangfeng saw a very faint, old scar, but that clearly wasn't what he was looking for either. He continued to push the sleeve up, but still found nothing. Chen Xiangfeng looked into Qi Bailu’s eyes with an even stranger expression, as if he couldn't believe it. He slumped back into his chair, still gripping Qi Bailu’s wrist tightly. He laughed. "You don't have it? Impossible... impossible..."
"Don't have what?" Qi Bailu was utterly confused.
Chen Xiangfeng stared at him without a word, his face turning incredibly pale. He squeezed Qi Bailu’s wrist even harder. Qi Bailu felt as though his bones were about to be crushed. He leaned over to pry Chen Xiangfeng’s fingers off, but Chen Xiangfeng’s gaze felt like it was boring a hole into his face. Just then, the booth door swung open. Someone burst in. Qi Bailu looked up to see Zheng Kunyu standing in the doorway, his chest heaving slightly. His gaze fixed directly on the two of them—and on the section of Qi Bailu’s wrist held by Chen Xiangfeng.
A waiter stood outside. Before the waiter could see what was happening inside, Zheng Kunyu slammed the door shut. He walked toward Qi Bailu step by step, took hold of his arm, and signaled for him to stand. Seeing that Zheng Kunyu had finally arrived, Chen Xiangfeng raised an eyebrow, his grip loosening until he finally let go of Qi Bailu.
Zheng Kunyu didn't spare him a single glance. He picked up Qi Bailu’s scarf from the back of the chair and, with a dark expression, wrapped it around Qi Bailu’s neck, tying it after two turns. Qi Bailu said nothing, casting a look of uncertainty and alarm at Zheng Kunyu’s face. Zheng Kunyu glanced at him and pressed a car key into his hand. "Go wait for me in the car."
Qi Bailu stood still. Zheng Kunyu put an arm around his back and guided him to the door, saying in a low, heavy voice, "Go down and wait for me. I'll be out soon."
"Zheng Kunyu, he was just..." Qi Bailu started to say, but Zheng Kunyu had already opened the door. He looked at him with an air that brooked no argument and quickly pushed him out, closing the door behind him. The waiter was no longer there. Qi Bailu stood there for a moment with the key in his hand. Hearing no sound from within and fearing he might be recognized by other customers, he hurried downstairs.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 陈向峰 | Chen Xiangfeng | A disgraced actor/public figure, formerly associated with Zheng Kunyu. |
| 圣诞布丁 | Christmas Pudding | A dessert mentioned in the text. |
| 通告 | Engagements / Bookings | Professional appointments or appearances for an actor. |
| 唇亡齿寒 | Shared fate / Interdependence | Literally "if the lips are gone, the teeth will be cold." |
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