When Qi Bailu woke up the next day, he found himself lying in bed, though he had no memory of when they had actually returned to it. Zheng Kunyu was not in the room, but Qi Bailu noticed a shallow indentation on the pillow beside him. So, Zheng Kunyu had slept here last night. Qi Bailu reached out to touch the pillow, smoothing away the creases. He stared at the flattened fabric for a moment before slowly getting up to dress.
Aside from a social engagement in the evening, he had no scheduled appearances all day, allowing him to brush his teeth and wash his face at a leisurely pace. Too lazy to change, he threw a knit cardigan over his pajamas and headed downstairs. Zheng Kunyu was neither in the living room nor the dining room, but a takeout breakfast sat on the dining table. Qi Bailu tossed a sandwich into the microwave to heat it up and reached for the cup at his usual spot; the coffee inside was stone cold.
Every time they ate together, they sat in fixed positions, so Qi Bailu knew this had been left for him. *Did Zheng Kunyu try to wake me up?* Qi Bailu wondered, cradling the cup in confusion.
Zheng Kunyu was nowhere to be seen, yet his presence lingered everywhere. Seeing that his shoes were still there, Qi Bailu knew he hadn't left yet. After finishing breakfast, he pushed open the terrace door and stepped into the small garden. Sure enough, he found Zheng Kunyu sitting there, smoking.
The ten o'clock morning sun was bright but offered little warmth. Though March was approaching, Beijing remained biting cold. Zheng Kunyu sat in a chair with a coat draped over his shoulders. As Qi Bailu approached from behind, he saw quite a few cigarette butts discarded in the ashtray; Zheng Kunyu must have been sitting there for a long time.
Hearing the approaching footsteps, Zheng Kunyu only slightly turned his head. The garden was mostly planted with Chinese roses and standard roses, but since it wasn't blooming season, only bare branches and curled leaves remained. The view was a sea of stale greenery, as if coated in a layer of dust. Qi Bailu walked up behind him, looking as if he had something to say, but once he reached Zheng Kunyu’s side, the words failed him.
Zheng Kunyu waited a moment, then straightened his head to look forward again. Wisps of smoke swirled in the wind. Qi Bailu finally spoke: "It's cold today."
No one replied. The sentence was quickly swallowed by the early spring wind. Even Qi Bailu was so preoccupied with his own thoughts that he forgot it really was cold outside and that he was standing there with bare ankles and no socks.
After a hangover, it was inevitable to feel as though a lifetime had passed. The events of the previous night flickered by like scenes from a dream; Qi Bailu even began to doubt if he had truly dreamt them. Only in a dream would Zheng Kunyu say such things, just as that night in Paris had felt like a dream. He could handle it if it happened once, but a second and third time made him question reality itself.
Only after finishing the entire cigarette did Zheng Kunyu stub it out, stand up, and turn to look at him. His brow furrowed immediately upon seeing Qi Bailu’s thin clothing. His gaze traveled up from Qi Bailu’s ankles as he said, "You know it's cold, yet you ran out here anyway."
This served as a response to "It's cold today," but because so much time had passed, it didn't feel like a conversation. It was like an arrow that had missed its mark, landing on the ground with a dull thud, devoid of force or threat. Zheng Kunyu stepped forward, draped his own overcoat over Qi Bailu’s shoulders, and nudged him back inside. Qi Bailu walked a few steps, and when he heard nothing else from Zheng Kunyu, his heart slowly settled. It seemed Zheng Kunyu had no intention of bringing up last night.
Consequently, Qi Bailu was very cooperative and refrained from being biting all day. Zheng Kunyu didn't cause him any trouble either. The two coexisted peacefully as usual, appearing almost like a couple who treated each other with the formal respect of honored guests. That evening, they had dinner with Ruan Qiuji and the film’s executive producer. The atmosphere was harmonious throughout, though Ruan Qiuji was silent for a brief spell before quickly returning to normal.
After the Lunar New Year, projects across the film and television industry began to move. Zheng Kunyu’s workload increased, leaving him no time to stay with Qi Bailu constantly. He booked a flight to Yunnan and would be leaving Beijing in two days. Qi Bailu couldn't quite describe his feelings. On the morning of Zheng Kunyu’s departure, he wasn't fully awake yet. In a daze, he heard the sound of a suitcase being dragged. Opening his eyes, he saw Zheng Kunyu standing by the bed. Seeing him awake, Zheng Kunyu reached out with a gloved hand to cup his chin, leaning down to kiss his cheek.
Qi Bailu felt a tickle and shrunk his shoulders under the covers, asking if he was leaving. Zheng Kunyu said yes, and then that kiss shifted, lingering on Qi Bailu’s lips. Though it was only a light touch, it chased away every last bit of Qi Bailu’s sleepiness. His eyelids fluttered open, his gaze a bit vacant. This kiss was too tender—too tender to have come from Zheng Kunyu. Zheng Kunyu looked deep into his eyes, let go, and straightened up. Qi Bailu stared at him blankly for two seconds before finally saying, "...Safe travels."
And just like that, Zheng Kunyu was gone. Qi Bailu had an audition that afternoon and called Cheng Wenhui to pick him up. Auditions didn't require makeup, so the two of them went to the hotel without a makeup artist or assistant. In the car, Cheng Wenhui grumbled about the production being too stingy, as they still hadn't specified which scene would be used for the second audition. Seeing Qi Bailu silent and not looking at the script, Cheng Wenhui assumed he was confident and asked, "Didn't you go out to dinner with Ruan Qiuji the day before yesterday? What did they say?"
Hearing Ruan Qiuji’s name, Qi Bailu snapped out of his character study. Yuntian Media was the lead investor for *Fierce Spring*, so Ruan Qiuji’s impression of him was vital—it was practically the deciding factor.
The pool of actors had been narrowed down to Qi Bailu, a newcomer, and a certain male actor from Jiaxing Entertainment. After learning he had been cut, Cai Tongyue had specifically sent Qi Bailu a thumbs-up emoji on WeChat, dripping with sarcasm. Qi Bailu ignored him.
Qi Bailu looked at Cheng Wenhui with a delayed reaction, and Cheng Wenhui realized he had asked in vain. Qi Bailu had probably been daydreaming during the dinner.
Cheng Wenhui looked at the materials on his lap, tapping his finger on the photo of the actor from Jiaxing Entertainment. "Pan Xiaoyan’s stunt with the casting wall earlier was just to make us fight with Cai Tongyue so he could snatch the role for his own guy. But his taste is terrible. Aside from having the right look, does this guy even have an ounce of acting talent?"
Hearing this, Qi Bailu was reminded of filming *How Much Grief the West Wind Brings* last year. He recalled his state of mind back then and instinctively touched his forehead. In the mirror, the scar was basically invisible, but he could still feel a very shallow indentation with his finger.
Cheng Wenhui noticed the gesture but said nothing. He knew Qi Bailu wasn't the type to worry about such things. In truth, for a split second, Qi Bailu had thought of Ruan Qiuji—the moment Ruan had pressed a pocket square against his wound. The strength in his hand had been gentle, his eyes fixed on Qi Bailu’s face, looking straight into his soul...
Because the thought had come so suddenly, he couldn't help but let his mind wander aimlessly until the car stopped at the hotel. Qi Bailu hadn't realized he had been lost in thought for quite a while.
The audition was held in the same hotel room as before. There were far fewer staff members this time. The monitors were set up, waiting for the actors to take their places, but Xue Fang wasn't in a hurry to start. Instead, he told Qi Bailu to wait a moment. When Qi Bailu asked who they were waiting for, Xue Fang said they were waiting for Mr. Ruan.
Perhaps because he had just been thinking about him, the unexpected news of his arrival caused a slight "collision" in Qi Bailu’s heart, like two billiard balls on a table grazing shoulders.
The wait wasn't long. After Ruan Qiuji knocked and entered, the director's assistant took his overcoat. Ruan Qiuji smiled apologetically. "Sorry I'm late. The traffic was a bit heavy."
He was already looking at Qi Bailu when he mentioned the traffic, so it sounded like he was explaining specifically to him. The director and the others stood up to greet him, and Qi Bailu followed suit, rising from the sofa. Ruan Qiuji made a downward pressing motion with his hand and sat down beside Xue Fang.
Two long sofas were arranged in an L-shape. Qi Bailu sat alone on the other sofa, facing Xue Fang and the others at a diagonal angle. Ruan Qiuji’s posture was always somewhat casual, but his gaze during work was serious.
To achieve the desired lighting effect, the room's curtains were tightly drawn and the lights were off. However, sunlight faintly filtered through the burgundy velvet curtains, casting an ambiguous, warm hue. Xue Fang explained the scene they were testing today: a confrontation between Qi Bailu and the male lead. Xue Fang felt it would be difficult for Qi Bailu to perform a monologue, so he wanted to find a staff member to read the lines with him. Since there were no extra scripts, Xue Fang was in a bit of a bind. Ruan Qiuji volunteered, "I'll do it."
Xue Fang looked at him with some surprise. Qi Bailu, who had been resting his chin on his hand while flipping through the script, also looked up. Xue Fang asked, "Would that be too much trouble for you?"
Ruan Qiuji smiled. "I don't know anything about acting, but I can manage reading the stage directions and lines from the script, as long as Bailu doesn't mind."
The one with the money was the boss; of course Qi Bailu wouldn't mind. He even had to thank him for deigning to help him run lines... Even if Ruan Qiuji suddenly decided to throw money into the entertainment industry to develop a career on a whim, no one would likely object. Qi Bailu said, "Thank you, Mr. Ruan..."
The audition was to be filmed in front of the sofa. With that settled, Xue Fang told everyone to get ready. The director's assistant prepared the clapperboard. Ruan Qiuji shifted his gaze from Qi Bailu’s face and flipped the script to where the dialogue began. In his usual speaking tone, he read: "A neon-lit bar. After finishing his song, Pan Xiaoyun sits at the bar and orders a drink. He is wearing a wig and a bright green slip dress. Everyone around is staring at him. He looks like a socially awkward pervert, yet he possesses an untimely sense of beauty. The bartender tells him someone has been waiting for him, so he looks up..."
The fixed camera was set for a medium close-up, focusing solely on Qi Bailu. Qi Bailu placed both hands flat on the sofa’s armrests, holding an ordinary hotel glass as a prop for a cocktail. His eyes fixed on Ruan Qiuji, who was off-camera. "Detective Xu, how do you have time to come out and play today?"
Ruan Qiuji held the script and looked at him. Qi Bailu paused for a moment, his brows slightly arched. He lowered his head to take a sip of water. As his lips touched the rim of the glass, his eyes slanted upward. He smiled. "Did you come specifically for me?"
The room was silent. The clinking of ice in the glass and the sound of Qi Bailu swallowing were clearly audible. Ruan Qiuji was barely a meter away, allowing him to see every flicker of expression. Qi Bailu’s face was clean, yet through his ambiguous demeanor alone, he seemed to have applied a layer of seductive charm.
Cheng Wenhui watched from the side, thinking, *Is this the advantage of being beautiful and photogenic?* Previously, Qi Bailu’s image had always been that of a "pure lotus." Even in *Dewy Night Flight*, his purity outweighed his sensuality. Seeing him today, he was the very picture of an enchanting demon. Cheng Wenhui was slightly worried, as it was easy for an audience to focus solely on Qi Bailu’s face.
Ruan Qiuji leaned against the armrest of his sofa. "Was it you?"
"What?" Qi Bailu leaned in slightly, asking with a hint of confusion.
"I know. You're the one who killed him."
Hearing this, Qi Bailu remained perfectly still, his smile unchanging—neither confirming nor denying. His teeth lightly grazed the rim of the glass as if biting something. Finally, he tilted his neck back and finished half the water. He said leisurely, "You have no evidence."
Ruan Qiuji read the stage direction: "Detective Xu does not speak. He stares into Pan Xiaoyun’s eyes, cold and composed."
Qi Bailu’s lip curled slightly in a mocking smile. He looked at Ruan Qiuji and said in a nonchalant tone, "Why must you keep hounding me?"
*Yes, why?*
They stared at each other in silence for a moment. The corners of Ruan Qiuji’s mouth curved upward, as if the real-life Qi Bailu had asked that question and his smile was the answer. Ruan Qiuji was only responsible for being a tool to read lines; he didn't have to act, but Qi Bailu had to continue. Qi Bailu saw the smile and paused for a second. An alarm bell rang in his heart, and he quickly reminded himself to pull his focus back to finish the remaining lines.
The audition wasn't long, ending in just six minutes. After watching, the director and producers clearly looked satisfied. The weight on Cheng Wenhui’s heart finally lifted, replaced by the joy of a settled matter. He politely thanked the director and the cinematographer. Ruan Qiuji closed the script. Seeing the camera move away while Qi Bailu sat there checking his script and quietly exhaling, Ruan Qiuji said, "No mistakes in the lines."
Qi Bailu nodded and gave a restrained smile. Ruan Qiuji added, "Compared to your last film, you've improved a lot."
At first, Qi Bailu thought he was just being polite, but when he looked up and saw Ruan Qiuji’s focused gaze, he felt a bit embarrassed. He still wasn't used to hearing praise. Qi Bailu hesitated for a moment, then lowered his eyes. "I want to say this seriously once: if you believe in me, please give this role to me."
Beside him, Cheng Wenhui immediately shot him an approving look. Though Qi Bailu was shy by nature, he was always proactive in his career; he would always fight for a role he liked.
"It seems you really want it?"
"Yes."
"Good." Ruan Qiuji’s tone was incredibly relaxed, as if Qi Bailu had asked for a lollipop rather than a major role.
Because he answered so quickly, Qi Bailu was the one who got stuck, his hesitant eyes hinting for Ruan to reconsider. Ruan Qiuji, however, looked away, his hand resting on the sofa armrest as his fingers tapped it unconsciously, lost in some sudden thought.
With the audition over, they were free to leave. Cheng Wenhui finished his pleasantries and waited expectantly for Qi Bailu to pack his things. Qi Bailu looked at Ruan Qiuji’s profile, and just as he was about to speak, Ruan Qiuji said thoughtfully, "I saw one in Milan once..."
One what? A salted fish? A small river? Qi Bailu waited for him to finish while stuffing a water bottle into his bag. Ruan Qiuji’s eyes turned back, slowly sweeping over Qi Bailu’s chest and legs before finally locking onto his eyes.
Fine. Now Qi Bailu knew. It was a green dress.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 《泉水凶猛》 | Fierce Spring | The title of the film Qi Bailu is auditioning for. |
| 《西风多少恨》 | How Much Grief the West Wind Brings | A previous project Qi Bailu worked on. |
| 《露水夜奔》 | Dewy Night Flight | Another of Qi Bailu's previous films. |
| 潘小匀 | Pan Xiaoyun | The character Qi Bailu is auditioning for in the script. |
| 徐警官 | Detective Xu | The character Ruan Qiuji reads for during the audition. |
| 佳兴娱乐 | Jiaxing Entertainment | A rival entertainment company. |
| 云天传媒 | Yuntian Media | The investment company headed by Ruan Qiuji. |
| 薛放 | Xue Fang | The director of the film *Fierce Spring*. |
| 潘效言 | Pan Xiaoyan | An industry figure mentioned by Cheng Wenhui. |
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