Perhaps because he was so weighed down by worry, Qi Bailu had a nightmare the night they returned from the Yonghe Temple. He hadn't dreamed of his mother in a long time, but for some reason, this time he saw his childhood with startling clarity. His mother was leading him by the hand to burn incense, and an old fortune-teller at the temple asked if they wanted to draw a lot. The old man prattled on until he finally convinced her to stop at his stall.
He looked at the cylinder of fortune sticks; from his height, he had to stand on his tiptoes to see the cluttered trinkets on the table. His mother knelt on a prayer mat, her brow furrowed as she shook the cylinder. He crouched on the ground and picked up a wooden stick, unable to fully recognize the characters written on it. His mother took the stick from him, then pulled him down, teaching him to kneel just as she did.
He kowtowed three times and, in his confusion, shook out a stick of his own. The fortune-teller took their money and made a show of interpreting the characters. Qi Bailu couldn't understand what he was saying; that memory had always been a chaotic blur. But this time, in the dream, he could clearly see the words written upon it.
In the palm of his hand, Qi Bailu saw the lines of the prophecy: *Turn back from the sea of bitterness.*
On the reverse side, written in strokes as sharp as iron hooks and silver blades, was a single word: *Ominous.*
Those characters were like poisoned nails driven into his eyes. Qi Bailu woke abruptly, his eyes snapping open as the dreamscape collapsed instantly. In the darkness, he was facing the sleeping Zheng Kunyu; his palms and back were drenched in cold sweat. Zheng Kunyu was lying on his back, sleeping deeply, one arm tucked under Qi Bailu’s neck as a pillow.
Qi Bailu stared at his silhouette in the dark, momentarily losing track of time. Moonlight spilled across the curtains like water, like snow. He used this faint, ethereal light to trace the lines of Zheng Kunyu’s features. The crown of his head was pressed against Zheng Kunyu’s neck, so he could smell the familiar scent of aftershave the moment he tilted his face. Zheng Kunyu had used this one brand, this one scent, for decades without change.
The first time he had woken up beside him, his chest had been filled with a towering hatred. Perhaps because it was the middle of the night, past memories surged back like a tide, bringing that old hatred crashing onto the shore with them. Qi Bailu rolled over to stare at the ceiling, yet his hand remained resting on Zheng Kunyu’s chest.
*Turn back from the sea of bitterness.* It sounded as if a single movement could extract one from the mire and grant a new life. But turning back was clearly the hardest thing of all; to turn back, one had to uproot the lotus from the water—it was either life or death.
On the second day after Zheng Kunyu left for Shanghai, Cheng Wenhui came over. Although Qi Bailu was still on vacation, they needed to discuss his next project. Cheng Wenhui had his eye on a script by a famous director—a fantasy period piece. The production was interested in collaborating and suggested Qi Bailu for the second male lead, though the screen time was somewhat limited.
Qi Bailu was more inclined toward the new script Lin Yuewei had given him. After reading the outline, Cheng Wenhui shook his head repeatedly, saying it would never pass censorship. In fact, Zheng Kunyu had said the same. The day before he left, he had explicitly told Qi Bailu he could not take the role and instructed him to persuade Lin Yuewei to abandon the subject matter. The domestic film industry couldn't even portray same-sex love, let alone the story of a transgender person. If Lin Yuewei truly dared to film it, she might face more than just a ban on the release.
But Qi Bailu understood Lin Yuewei’s perspective. She was only in her early thirties, at the peak of her creative passion. Her interest in the subject wasn't accidental; she had previously participated in a documentary focusing on the queer community, recording their daily lives. Qi Bailu had seen that documentary; it was different from what he had imagined. He realized that every person in the film was no different from the ordinary people around him.
"We'll see," Qi Bailu responded vaguely to Cheng Wenhui.
Cheng Wenhui wasn't pleased with such an answer. He mentioned that the trailer for *How Much Grief the West Wind Brings* would be released in a few days, and the show was set to air next month. Qi Bailu would be busy then—press conferences, various promotions, and a magazine shoot with Cai Tongyue...
Strangely, while Qi Bailu usually loved working, this time he felt a sense of lethargy. He just wanted to lie down and do nothing. He thought that perhaps they would stay in Paris for a few extra days, perhaps they would get a cat, perhaps he would be willing to go skiing in Hokkaido with him again... So many "perhapses." His heart fluttered at the thought, for the future suddenly held so many possibilities.
Qi Bailu rarely followed the news, but over the past two days, he had been intentionally or unintentionally paying attention to the social and financial sections. When he saw that a certain high-ranking official had been placed under *shuanggui* investigation, his heart suddenly leaped. He was certain this was the person Zheng Kunyu and Lawyer Song had mentioned. Cheng Wenhui, seeing the photo from the side, let out a surprised "Huh?" and blurted out the man's name.
"You know him?"
"I don't know him, of course, but President Zheng does."
As he spoke, Cheng Wenhui searched on his phone for a while, finding a news report from five or six years ago about the establishment of a charitable foundation. In the photo, the official was shaking hands with someone, and Zheng Kunyu was standing right beside him. Just as Qi Bailu was about to close the page, he spotted another familiar figure in the photo. On the very edge, accidentally caught by the lens, was a man holding a wine glass, shown only in a graceful profile. Who else could it be but Ruan Qiuji?
*The person who knows you best is not your friend, but your enemy.*
Qi Bailu inexplicably thought of this phrase. Business dealings were gathered for profit and dispersed for profit; he had never felt that Zheng Kunyu and Ruan Qiuji were true friends. For the longest time, he seemed to have no idea what Ruan Qiuji wanted. He looked more like an idle playboy than an ambitious conqueror.
But what if he was?
Many fragments flashed through Qi Bailu’s mind, but for the moment, he couldn't catch them or piece them together.
Cheng Wenhui took the phone back, stared at it for a moment, and suddenly said, "Chen Xiangfeng."
Having not heard that name for so long, Qi Bailu felt a bit dazed. Hadn't Chen Xiangfeng vanished from the public eye after leaving the detention center? Cheng Wenhui tapped the photo and said, "This was from the year he just debuted, so I remember it very clearly." He paused, then added, "I don't think I ever told you, but I actually managed him for a year. Later, things didn't go very well between us, so we went our separate ways."
Qi Bailu found it hard to imagine how the two of them could have parted on bad terms. Cheng Wenhui was rigorous in his work and socially adept, while Chen Xiangfeng seemed slick and flawless. The best manager and the best actor—they should have been a perfectly matched team.
Cheng Wenhui seemed to see what he was thinking and said, "He isn't as good as he looks. You can't judge a book by its cover. I heard he went back to his hometown before, but for some reason, he seems to have returned to Beijing recently."
"What is he doing back in Beijing?"
Cheng Wenhui shook his head, then frowned after a moment. "Yeah, what is he doing back in Beijing?"
There was no longer a place for him in the entertainment industry. Drug use was equivalent to being permanently nailed to a pillar of shame; there would be no day of resurgence. Moreover, Chen Xiangfeng had no acquaintances here, only his former fair-weather friends.
"Something's not right." Cheng Wenhui suddenly stood up and took out his phone to make a call. Qi Bailu thought he was calling Chen Xiangfeng, but he was actually calling media contacts and reporters to fish for information.
Qi Bailu watched Cheng Wenhui pacing back and forth while talking. He just sat there, yet he felt a wave of dizziness, as if he were seeing Chen Xiangfeng sitting before him again, looking at him with that strange, scrutinizing, malicious gaze, then lunging forward to grab his hand.
No one knew what Chen Xiangfeng was doing back in Beijing. Or rather, the media seemed to have made a pact; not a single bit of information was leaked in advance. They were all just waiting for the moment when the fire would burn through the paper.
Two hours later, they saw it. A freshly produced interview video of Chen Xiangfeng was plastered across every news platform. In the video, Chen Xiangfeng appeared without makeup, exposing his personal experiences with sex-for-resources trades and industry "unspoken rules." His speech was clear and powerful, as if those words had been deliberated and polished countless times—calm, prepared, and aimed straight for the jugular.
It was no exaggeration to say that as soon as the interview video came out, it instantly overwhelmed all other news, spreading like a wildfire. On every platform's headlines, glaring at the very top, was: *Chen Xiangfeng admits to sex-for-resources trade with the President of Jinhe Media.*
If it were merely a scandal involving sexual trades, it wouldn't have caused such severe damage or impact to Zheng Kunyu. After all, Chen Xiangfeng had no audio or video evidence, not even a single intimate photo; it was all just his unilateral statement.
In the eyes of the public, a sex trade was ultimately a matter of private morality; without evidence, it was just something to gossip about. It was Chen Xiangfeng’s accusation that Zheng Kunyu had caused him to fall into drug addiction that was the fatal blow.
Facing the camera, Chen Xiangfeng spoke with earnest words, regretting the mistakes he had made, and detailed exactly how the two had met and how Zheng Kunyu had harmed him. The interview video lasted twenty minutes. Chen Xiangfeng didn't miss a single detail, confessing that he had sold his body to climb the ladder. He was willing to let his own name stink for ten thousand years just to drag Zheng Kunyu down from his high position and ruin his reputation.
Even Cheng Wenhui, who was used to the great storms of the entertainment industry, could only stare blankly at the video. He never dreamed that Chen Xiangfeng would use such a method to expose Zheng Kunyu. He could tell just by listening that Chen Xiangfeng was reciting a meticulously prepared PR script, diverting the trouble and whitewashing himself. This meant there was someone behind Chen Xiangfeng, manipulating him like a puppet on a string, fueling the flames of this incident.
Chen Xiangfeng said that shortly after their first meeting, Zheng Kunyu gave him ecstasy. After he became addicted, he began giving him intravenous injections. Chen Xiangfeng said this was Zheng Kunyu’s only requirement for sleeping with him. No coercion; it was consensual.
Chen Xiangfeng could no longer distinguish whether he was obsessed with the man or the death-like pleasure the man provided him. He only knew that as long as he obediently let Zheng Kunyu give him injections, Zheng Kunyu was willing to dote on him. Chen Xiangfeng had asked him why he did it, and Zheng Kunyu’s answer was: *It’s somewhat interesting.*
Chen Xiangfeng said he wasn't the only one who had engaged in sex trades with Zheng Kunyu. His implication was that Zheng Kunyu had injected drugs into more than just one person.
Cheng Wenhui had always known that Zheng Kunyu liked to sleep with beautiful young men; he had even helped facilitate some of those connections. But he never imagined this was how he "slept" with them—like toyed with, played with laboratory mice. First anesthesia, then cutting them open, removing the liver and lungs to extract the most cruel pleasure. He had actually watched such things happen right under his nose. Cheng Wenhui turned to look at Qi Bailu. He couldn't stay calm now, and he certainly couldn't imagine how Qi Bailu felt. Thinking back, the reason Zheng Kunyu had stopped Chen Xiangfeng from meeting Qi Bailu halfway through was to prevent Chen Xiangfeng from revealing the truth of these details.
"Xiao Qi, did he ever use them on you?"
Cheng Wenhui’s words broke the unbearable silence in the room, but what followed was still a deathly stillness.
Qi Bailu didn't speak, his gaze fixed on the laptop screen. The video had finished playing; after the buffering circle finished spinning, it started auto-playing again. The person on the screen was about to open his mouth to speak when Cheng Wenhui pressed the pause button, grabbed Qi Bailu’s wrist, and repeated, "Xiao Qi, answer me. Did he ever use them on you?"
After waiting for a long time without a response, Cheng Wenhui decided to take drastic measures and rolled up the sleeve of Qi Bailu’s pajamas. Only then did Qi Bailu say sluggishly, "No."
"Really no? Injections, pills, powder—none of it?"
"No."
"You know that if... it's very likely they'll take you for an examination?"
"I know."
Cheng Wenhui stared at him for a moment, knowing Qi Bailu wouldn't lie about such a thing. But why had Zheng Kunyu spared him alone?
"Did you two ever film anything?"
At this stage, Qi Bailu had to make plans early to deal with any possible situation. Although Chen Xiangfeng’s video didn't mention a single word about Qi Bailu, no one knew where things would go, or if Chen Xiangfeng was still holding onto something lethal.
Qi Bailu slowly raised his head, his scattered gaze focusing and stopping on Cheng Wenhui’s face. Seeing this reaction, Cheng Wenhui knew they must have filmed something. He pressed further, "Is the stuff in his hands? Video or photos? What’s the scale? Can your faces be seen?"
What scale? A scale sufficient to destroy his entire life. Qi Bailu’s face was deathly pale; it took a long time before he could speak. "...There is a DV tape."
"Do you know where he kept it?"
Qi Bailu shook his head.
Qi Bailu’s movements were all a beat behind, sluggish. Cheng Wenhui couldn't help but worry about his mental state. "Don't overthink it for now. We..."
"I want to see him," Qi Bailu suddenly interrupted. His voice was very small, but his words were clear and forceful.
"He's still in Shanghai, and I just called President Zheng; he didn't pick up."
"I want to see Chen Xiangfeng."
"You want to see him? Why? What if he doesn't want to see you?"
"He will. Call him. Now."
Qi Bailu stood up from the sofa and went upstairs to change. He wouldn't be satisfied until he asked certain things to his face.
Cheng Wenhui hesitantly dialed Chen Xiangfeng’s number. Chen Xiangfeng’s private number was still the same. The phone rang twice and was quickly picked up. Chen Xiangfeng seemed not at all surprised; a voice tinged with a smile came from the other end: "Hello?" Cheng Wenhui watched Qi Bailu’s retreating back and stated his request.
Qi Bailu held the stair railing and walked to the top floor. He looked at the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass window and heard Cheng Wenhui hang up the phone. From deep in the sofa, Cheng Wenhui said, "He agreed."
Cheng Wenhui asked Qi Bailu if he wanted to bring a recording pen. Qi Bailu said no, but Cheng Wenhui was worried Chen Xiangfeng might be recording or filming secretly. Since the meeting place was a hotel address provided by Chen Xiangfeng, just to be safe, he proposed to search the room and Chen Xiangfeng’s person. Chen Xiangfeng readily agreed.
Chen Xiangfeng had booked an ordinary single room. It was somewhat cramped, with nowhere to hide things. A cluster of Casablanca lilies was in a vase on the table, their petals as white as snow. Cheng Wenhui didn't even skip checking the vase and the flowers, then went on to search Chen Xiangfeng’s pockets. Chen Xiangfeng looked at Qi Bailu, who was sitting opposite him wearing a baseball cap, and said, "I know you're a big star; you have to be careful wherever you go."
Qi Bailu looked up at the two bodyguards behind Chen Xiangfeng. They wore sunglasses and stood on either side like an iron wall, not giving Qi Bailu a second glance. Seeing his gaze, Chen Xiangfeng said nonchalantly, "They'll be going out in a moment."
One of the bodyguards looked down at Chen Xiangfeng, a cold gaze resting on his face. Chen Xiangfeng said with some impatience, "Is your boss worried about me? Or worried about him? I won't talk nonsense."
Qi Bailu looked at the bodyguards again, but they still didn't look at him. It wasn't until Cheng Wenhui finished searching Chen Xiangfeng that they stepped forward and politely indicated they needed to search Qi Bailu.
These two bodyguards were less protecting Chen Xiangfeng and more monitoring him. Their boss—a name slid through Qi Bailu’s mind. By now, no matter how slow he was, Qi Bailu knew this matter was inextricably linked to Ruan Qiuji.
Cheng Wenhui also went out. Chen Xiangfeng was so thin he was unrecognizable, with blue stubble on his chin, a world away from the delicate and beautiful "Immortal Brother" of the past. He leaned back on the sofa, propping up his cheek. Once the door closed, his eyes darted around, his gaze slowly landing on Qi Bailu’s face. "I'm sure you have a lot to ask me."
Qi Bailu got straight to the point. "Is what you said true, or did someone instruct you to say it?"
Chen Xiangfeng glanced at him in shock and laughed. "What, you don't believe it?"
Qi Bailu watched him silently. Chen Xiangfeng said, "It's true. Do you actually like him that much? I thought you were the one behind this, thinking you'd climbed high enough and wanted to kick Zheng Kunyu to the curb. He was clever his whole life; how did he end up falling for someone like you?"
Chen Xiangfeng didn't hide his contempt for Qi Bailu at all, nor did he hide his hatred for Zheng Kunyu, or the trace of past love and resentment mixed within that hatred.
As he spoke, Chen Xiangfeng couldn't help but laugh. He looked at Qi Bailu’s face and insisted on asking, "Don't you think it's funny?"
Qi Bailu watched him in silence, his lips curling slightly without a hint of emotion, as if mocking his laughter. Chen Xiangfeng suddenly stopped laughing and said, "What exactly do you want to know?"
"The drug injections. Is it true?"
Chen Xiangfeng suddenly stood up, walked over to sit beside Qi Bailu, took off his shirt jacket, and showed him his arms.
Although he had seen it once in the video, seeing it in person was still nauseating. Chen Xiangfeng’s arms were covered in needle marks and scars; along the path of his veins, there was hardly a single patch of healthy skin. After showing him, he wrapped one arm intimately around Qi Bailu and used his other hand to grab Qi Bailu’s hand, forcing him to touch the inside of his thigh. He pressed his hand down firmly and said, "There are marks here too. Every single injection was administered by him personally before he fucked me."
Qi Bailu pulled his hand away. Chen Xiangfeng looked at Qi Bailu’s face, which was inches away, and held him even tighter, re-gripping Qi Bailu’s wrist as if wanting him to feel the pleasure and pain he had experienced. He whispered, "He would change the syringe every time, carefully disinfecting the needle. I thought he was so good to me, that he didn't want me to get sick (AIDS). He used an alcohol cotton ball to wipe my wrist, right here. He held me like this, and the first time he poked me, he even asked if it hurt. I said it didn't, but actually, it hurt like hell."
A poisonous yet fanatical light flashed in Chen Xiangfeng’s eyes. Qi Bailu saw it—this was indeed the gaze of a madman. He and Zheng Kunyu had done such things; they were both madmen. Chen Xiangfeng looked into Qi Bailu’s eyes as if wanting to gouge out Zheng Kunyu’s shadow and make him look at him instead. He sighed and leaned in to kiss Qi Bailu’s lips. Qi Bailu turned his head to dodge, but the curse-like kiss landed on his cheek. Qi Bailu immediately threw him off and stood up, delivering a sharp slap to his face without hesitation.
It was too disgusting. Aside from "disgusting," Qi Bailu couldn't think of another word. This was a madman, an evil spirit, and the one who had created him was the man he shared a bed with. If he hadn't attempted suicide back then, would Zheng Kunyu have done the same to him, turning him into this creature that was neither human nor ghost?
Chen Xiangfeng’s head was snapped to the side by the blow, but he wasn't angry. Instead, he said, "Can't handle it? This is the truth you wanted." He admired Qi Bailu’s distraught expression and ground his teeth. "I have a worthless life, and so do you. Why were you the only one spared?"
Qi Bailu couldn't stay for another second. Before him, he was staring into a pool of pitch-black, viscous deep water; if he looked for one more moment, the shadow within would float up and grab his hand. Qi Bailu turned to walk toward the door. Chen Xiangfeng called out behind him, "He deserves it. I was utterly devoted to him. When he chose you over me, he should have known his end! I warned him! He wanted to turn back from the sea of bitterness, but I won't let him have his wish!"
Qi Bailu’s hand rested on the doorknob. He paused for a moment, then pulled the door open with force. The anxiously waiting Cheng Wenhui turned to look at him, and the two bodyguards also turned to walk inside. One of the bodyguards stopped beside him and said in a low voice, "Mr. Qi, you don't need to worry about today's matter. Our boss asked me to tell you that you won't be involved."
"Tell him he's already involved me." Qi Bailu threw these words over his shoulder and walked out without looking back. He walked so fast that Cheng Wenhui could hardly keep up. It wasn't until they reached the elevator that Cheng Wenhui had a chance to stop and catch his breath. He saw Qi Bailu leaning against the wall with his head down, his cap shading his face, but one hand was pressed tightly over his eyes. He was likely crying after all.
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 苦海回身 | Turn back from the sea of bitterness | A Buddhist-derived idiom meaning to repent and leave a life of suffering or sin. |
| 凶 | Ominous / Bad luck | A common result on a fortune stick (divination lot). |
| 金河影视 | Jinhe Media / Jinhe Film & TV | The name of Zheng Kunyu's company. |
| 双规 | Shuanggui / Under investigation | A form of intra-party disciplinary process in China; often used in the context of corruption investigations. |
| 陈向峰 | Chen Xiangfeng | The actor involved in the scandal with Zheng Kunyu. |
| 程文辉 | Cheng Wenhui | Qi Bailu's manager. |
| 蔡桐越 | Cai Tongyue | Another actor mentioned in the text. |
| 潜规则 | Unspoken rules / Hidden rules | Often refers to sexual favors in exchange for career advancement in the entertainment industry. |
| □□易 | Sex-for-resources trade | Likely "权色交易" (power-for-sex trade) or "性交易" (sex trade) censored in the original text. |
| □□ | High-ranking official | Likely "高官" or a specific title censored in the original text. |
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