The cars drove into the parking lot one after the other, and the group inevitably crossed paths in the elevator. Qi Bailu watched with a cold eye as Ruan Qiuji exchanged pleasantries with Xue Fang. Since his floor was lower than theirs, he didn't have to listen for long before he pressed the button and stepped out. Xue Fang bid him goodnight, telling him to get some rest. As the elevator doors slowly slid shut, Ruan Qiuji’s expression remained indifferent; he was looking down at his phone, not sparing Qi Bailu a single glance. After walking a few steps, Qi Bailu received a message from him: "Really goodnight?"
The next line was a yellow emoji face looking so aggrieved it seemed ready to cry.
It was hard to imagine that the man with that stoic expression just now was the one sending this.
Qi Bailu replied with a smiling yellow face.
Ruan Qiuji didn't respond; his mood remained a mystery.
Back in his room, Qi Bailu’s first task was to wipe down the trophy. He was a bit of a germaphobe and always felt that objects touched by too many people were unclean. All the various trophies he had won in the past had been destroyed in that great fire. They had once been displayed in the study of that lakeside villa; thus, this was his first trophy for the present and the future.
Inevitably, he thought of that custom-made glass cabinet designed specifically to hold trophies. He had been home when the cabinet was delivered, and he had initially thought Zheng Kunyu was planning to collect antiques, though Zheng Kunyu had never been interested in such lifeless things. When it was being moved in, a corner of the upright cabinet had knocked against the bronze octopus-style chandelier. The brilliant light shattered into fragments, and he saw the shadows of the lamps dancing across Zheng Kunyu’s face.
Zheng Kunyu had been standing by, supervising the workers. When he turned and saw Qi Bailu standing at the door in his slippers, Qi Bailu turned to head upstairs. Zheng Kunyu followed him out, watching his retreating back as he climbed the stairs. "You can enter the study," Zheng Kunyu said. He didn't seem to understand that Qi Bailu avoided the study simply because he didn't want to see him. Seeing no response, Zheng Kunyu stepped onto the stairs and grabbed his arm from the step below. "This will be your home from now on." Qi Bailu’s answer had been cold: "It isn't."
Later, when Zheng Kunyu was wiping his third trophy clean to place it inside, Qi Bailu had been lying on the desk, his breath still ragged. From a strange angle, he watched Zheng Kunyu’s back as he pulled down his own bunched-up sweater until it covered his stomach. That cabinet was absurdly large. Zheng Kunyu had to look up to place the trophy on a high shelf. Qi Bailu remarked that he could never fill it in a lifetime. Zheng Kunyu asked how he could be so sure, gesturing toward the cabinet and saying it could hold two hundred and fifty "Little Golden Men." Two hundred and fifty... Zheng Kunyu leaned against the desk, seemingly smiling behind his glasses, and said softly, "One day."
Qi Bailu tossed the trophy onto the bed with a calm expression. Although he deliberately avoided reminiscing, there were moments when memories would splash out like raindrops hitting a lotus leaf.
He stripped and took a shower. After coming out, he took his medication and checked his phone for unread messages. To his surprise, Ruan Qiuji had sent another one shortly after: a formal, well-behaved "Goodnight." Qi Bailu read it twice, then sat on the edge of the bed and placed the phone face down on the sheets. He leaned over to turn off the bedside lamp. Just as his hand touched the switch, he suddenly changed his mind and clicked it back on.
In the spilling light, he bent his neck in thought. A silhouette of his upper body was cast against the wallpaper—solitary and alone, with only his shadow for company.
Qi Bailu picked up his phone and messaged Ruan Qiuji: "Asleep?"
Regardless of how Ruan Qiuji might reply, he changed his clothes, took his room card and phone, and left the room. While in the elevator, he received Ruan Qiuji’s reply: "Come."
It was just a single, brief word, yet his heart hammered inexplicably. Qi Bailu knocked, and the door opened after only two taps. Ruan Qiuji pulled him into a front-facing embrace and lowered his head to kiss him. Qi Bailu tilted his face up to respond while unbuttoning Ruan’s shirt; neither had time for superfluous words. Clothing fell to the floor in succession. Once Ruan Qiuji was stripped down to nothing but his suit trousers, he suddenly lost his sense of urgency. As Qi Bailu moved to kiss him again, Ruan pinched his chin. "You won't fall asleep halfway through like the day before yesterday, will you?"
"Not necessarily."
He took sleeping pills every day and never hid it from Ruan Qiuji. The day before yesterday, he had taken too many and fallen into a deep stupor, making Ruan Qiuji think he had actually broken him.
Qi Bailu had more or less figured out some of Ruan Qiuji’s habits. For instance, he insisted on keeping the lights on during sex, he liked to come from behind, and he didn't like the other person to take the lead. He also liked to sleep while holding someone—the kind of embrace from behind, like holding a large doll. He also suffered from insomnia; on a couple of occasions when Qi Bailu had drifted off, he heard Ruan opening the door for a waiter delivering wine. However, Ruan Qiuji had a high tolerance for alcohol; aside from waking up late the next day, there were no other signs.
Tonight, toward the end, Qi Bailu indeed almost fell asleep. Before Ruan Qiuji’s cigarette could reach the ashtray, he saw Qi Bailu’s head drooping, resting on his stomach. His hair, like seaweed drifting in water, slid slowly over Ruan’s legs. Ruan Qiuji discarded the entire cigarette and cupped Qi Bailu's chin to make him look up. Qi Bailu’s cheeks were pinched inward by the grip, waking him up slightly. "You were the one who wanted this anyway," he muttered.
Ruan Qiuji had no rebuttal. He got up to pour a glass of wine. Qi Bailu felt that being so dismissive on their last night in Shanghai was a bit unfair, so he asked for a glass as well and asked Ruan if he wanted to continue. Ruan Qiuji replied that continuing would be the end of the world, then took the wine glass from him, set it on the nightstand, and reached out to turn off the light. "Sleep."
In the darkness, Qi Bailu watched Ruan Qiuji’s silhouette. The room fell into absolute silence, save for the faint clinking of ice against the glass. He could clearly see the point of Ruan Qiuji’s chin as he tilted his head back. After drinking that wine, he found himself unable to sleep. After a few minutes, he suddenly asked, "What time is it?"
"Eleven-forty."
"You didn't look at a watch. How do you know?"
"I glanced at it when I was pouring the wine."
They were silent for a while. Qi Bailu rolled over to stare at the ceiling. Ruan Qiuji asked, "Are you going to sleep or not?"
"..."
Qi Bailu said, "I'm sleeping."
Ruan Qiuji finished his glass and picked up the bottle to pour more. Listening to the sound of the liquid pouring and the ice cubes tumbling, Qi Bailu asked, "What kind of wine?"
"Sherry."
"The one from *Conan*."
"Mm."
Qi Bailu closed his eyes. After a moment, Ruan Qiuji spoke again: "The person harassing you with those letters won't appear again."
Qi Bailu opened his eyes but didn't ask what he had done.
"Let Cheng Wenhui go back to managing you."
"No need."
Since he said so, Ruan Qiuji didn't bring it up again. Qi Bailu turned his back to him, suddenly feeling completely wide awake. He remained awake until Ruan Qiuji lay down and embraced him from behind. Qi Bailu gave a slight shiver. He thought to himself that perhaps while he was asleep before, Ruan Qiuji had been holding him just like this.
Ruan Qiuji didn't sleep either; Qi Bailu could feel that the breath puffing against the nape of his neck was unsteady. Their chests and backs, shoulders and arms were pressed tightly together, like two plants leaning on one another, the dark shadows of the trees spreading from the head of the bed to the foot.
Qi Bailu stared at the curtains, unable to tell if the light on them was moonlight or lamplight, unable to tell what day or year it was. It felt like a final glimpse after sinking into a lake, seeing only the hazy, shimmering reflections on the surface. Just as he was finally about to drift off, Ruan Qiuji’s phone rang.
It was like a blow to the head, knocking him back from the edge of a dream. Ruan Qiuji released him with one hand to reach for the phone, declined the call, and draped his arm over him again. But a moment later, the phone rang again. Ruan Qiuji picked it up. Qi Bailu turned over and asked, "Aren't you going to answer?"
His voice was soft and thick with sleepiness. Knowing he had woken him, Ruan Qiuji said, "It can wait until tomorrow."
Qi Bailu teased, "Maybe it's another 'cousin-in-law' looking for you."
Ruan Qiuji held the phone in front of him. Qi Bailu squinted, but he could clearly see the caller ID: "Secretary." The white light of the screen was blinding. Qi Bailu pushed his hand away. "Answer your own phone."
Ruan Qiuji didn't hide from him and took the call. Qi Bailu listened to a few sentences and heard the secretary talking about internal matters at Yuntian Media—some kind of emergency had arisen. Ruan Qiuji didn't sound surprised at all. "Let them bite each other," he said. "One venomous snake will always kill the other."
Finally, the secretary asked what time his flight back to Beijing was tomorrow. Ruan Qiuji hesitated unusually, then turned his head to ask, "Are you leaving tomorrow too?"
The secretary didn't dare speak; no matter how foolish, he knew there was someone else on Ruan Qiuji’s end.
Qi Bailu said, "I'm going to Xiamen." Lin Yuewei and the team were scouting locations there; if all went well, the next film would be shot there.
Ruan Qiuji booked the earliest flight to Beijing. Qi Bailu vaguely sensed that some major upheaval was about to happen at Yuntian Media, or rather, that the power dynamics behind Ruan Qiuji were churning with undercurrents.
He didn't truly believe that Ruan Qiuji had secured the award for him simply to please him.
*Spring Water Rages* was a film invested in by Yuntian Media. Tonight, it had already taken Best Actor; adding a Best Supporting Actor was the best possible promotion for the film's release. Furthermore, the competition for *Spring Water Rages* was Yuntian Media’s arch-rival. The rival director had entered a gambling agreement with his own company and was desperately hoping for an award this year to turn things around, only to end up empty-handed.
Ruan Qiuji stepping onto the stage to personally present the award wasn't as simple as giving him a "surprise" either. After all, in this era of new media, many business tycoons were showing their faces in live streams to sell products.
After a few brief instructions, Ruan Qiuji hung up. By the faint glow of the screen, he could see Qi Bailu watching him.
"Go to sleep."
Qi Bailu gave a faint, non-committal "Mm."
Ruan Qiuji studied his eyes. The phone light dimmed a fraction, and their expressions faded into the shadows along with it.
The pleasure and tenderness of the flesh were temporary. The two of them were more like a couple sharing a bed but dreaming different dreams. Yet, even if the dreams were different, they still shared the same pillow, and upon opening their eyes, they still saw the face across from them. Qi Bailu closed his eyes first, seemingly too tired to remember to turn over. Ruan Qiuji watched his face in the shadows. He was like a moon that did not touch the water; Qi Bailu would not lean down to scoop up the reflection in his eyes.
***
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