It had been quite some time since they had officially established their relationship. These days passed much like any others, as both Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang were the type to keep their professional and private lives strictly separate. When filming, they focused solely on the work at hand; if one of them had to travel for a job, the other wouldn't disturb them excessively, waiting until they were both off the clock to chat.
While their work remained the same, their personal lives had changed significantly.
On set, it was impossible for them to speak only to each other. They had to interact with others, and discussing the script was a constant necessity. If there were many people around, they would merely exchange a glance, the hidden affection in their eyes invisible to outsiders. If there were fewer people, they would whisper to each other, making plans for dinner or late-night snacks.
Only after returning to the hotel could they truly be themselves. They could exchange messages using language far more relaxed than what they used in public.
When they had time, they would also have video calls.
Neither of them cared much about how they looked on camera. They often filmed themselves from a low angle, and sometimes they would even drift out of the frame entirely, leaving only their voices behind. But regardless of the picture quality, as long as the other person was there, they didn't mind. Li Qiang often complained about this, calling them both far too casual.
While Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang enjoyed their secret romance, Li Qiang and Liu Wenping were busy discussing with their respective companies how to handle the situation in the future.
Initially, both companies suggested that public relations might not even be necessary. They felt the relationship wouldn't last—"they'll probably break up in a few months anyway"—so there was no need for a PR strategy.
Li Qiang and Liu Wenping had responded with absolute certainty: "Given their personalities, forget a few months; even a few years would be an understatement." Only then did the companies begin to take the matter seriously.
"I really didn't expect you to say something like that," Zhang Jin’an remarked after hearing about Li Qiang’s meeting at the company.
Although Zhang Jin’an was talking to Li Qiang, his gaze remained fixed on Jiang Siyang, who was currently acting.
Zhang Jin’an had finished his scenes a few minutes ago and was now resting in a chair. Taking his place were Jiang Siyang and Yuan Yuan. This time, they were filming an emotional scene, standing in the center of the frame delivering their lines.
Fake blood flowed from Yuan Yuan’s mouth as she lay dying in Jiang Siyang’s arms. Jiang Siyang knelt on one knee, his brow furrowed, one hand tightly clutching hers, completely disregarding the bloodstains on his white shirt.
"Lijing, don't say another word. You're going to live, you will..."
Watching the scene, Zhang Jin’an suddenly wondered: *If I were to have an accident one day, what expression would Jiang Siyang have?*
"Are you surprised that I’m capable of saying such a thing, or are you surprised because you have no intention of staying together that long?"
Li Qiang’s voice pulled Zhang Jin’an back to reality.
Zhang Jin’an glanced at Li Qiang and answered frankly, "The former, of course. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point; there’s no reason for me to give up so easily."
The scene being filmed was supposed to be tragic, but Zhang Jin’an wasn't listening to the lines. He was simply watching the person acting, and a small smile tugged at his lips. "Siyang and I still have so many things to do. It’s impossible for us to break up so soon."
"What kind of things do you want to do?"
"Too many things to finish even in a lifetime," Zhang Jin’an replied. "That includes growing old together and going to the park to walk our birds when we’re elderly."
"You're thinking way too far ahead," Li Qiang said, breaking into a laugh.
Zhang Jin’an knew Li Qiang was laughing at his impracticality, but every word he said was sincere. He truly thought that way. He had already written Jiang Siyang’s name into his future itinerary; he wanted to do many things with him, and he knew Jiang Siyang would surely accompany him.
"Whoa—" Li Qiang let out a soft exclamation of surprise.
It was time for the kiss between Cui Chi and Ding Lijing. Since Director Tang Shang had specified a close-up shot before filming, Jiang Siyang and Yuan Yuan couldn't use camera angles to fake it. They had to actually press their lips together for real.
Li Qiang, never one to miss out on a bit of drama, nudged Zhang Jin’an’s arm. "What are your thoughts?"
"What do you mean, 'what thoughts'?" Zhang Jin’an didn't follow.
Li Qiang made it clearer: "Aren't you jealous?"
"A little, but it's fine."
Zhang Jin’an watched as Jiang Siyang lifted his head, a bit of fake blood staining his lower lip.
"No matter how you act, it's all fake. As long as we are real, that's all that matters," Zhang Jin’an said.
"I thought you'd be incredibly jealous. I didn't expect this," Li Qiang said with a hint of disappointment. He had expected some kind of reaction, like Zhang Jin’an jumping up in agitation, but there was nothing.
Suddenly remembering something, Li Qiang hurriedly said, "Oh, did I tell you about going to Xiaonan Mountain in a few days?"
Zhang Jin’an nodded. "You mentioned it, but it was just a passing comment. Xiao Zhou added it to the schedule later, so it wouldn't have mattered if I forgot." The matter Li Qiang was referring to was the dinner invitation from the hotel general manager that Zhang Shuyu had mentioned. It was set for this Thursday, two days away.
"I felt like I hadn't told you. I wanted to, but as soon as we started talking about other things, I forgot," Li Qiang frowned slightly. "Do you think I’m getting Alzheimer's?"
Zhang Jin’an: "Yes."
Li Qiang: "...You didn't even hesitate?"
"I listen to everything you say, Qiang-ge. If you think you have Alzheimer's, then you do," Zhang Jin’an replied earnestly.
Li Qiang gave him a dry laugh. "If I hadn't heard the teasing in your voice, I might have actually believed you were being that obedient."
Zhang Jin’an laughed, dropping the act. "Darn, I’ve been found out."
Li Qiang didn't take it to heart and continued, "Hey, are you going to go home when you go back to Xiaonan Mountain?"
Zhang Jin’an pondered for a moment before saying with certainty, "I am. I’ll take the opportunity to tell them about this."
"So soon?" Li Qiang was a bit surprised by the decision.
"I think my family has the right to be the first to know," Zhang Jin’an said, crossing his legs.
Li Qiang thought about it and found it made sense. He nodded. "True. It wouldn't be right if the media found out before your family did."
Zhang Jin’an nodded slightly, resting his folded hands on his thigh.
Li Qiang asked again, "Does Siyang know?"
"I’ll tell him," Zhang Jin’an replied.
"Hiss—" Li Qiang tried to recall. "I remember Xiao Xie telling me that Xiao Yang seemed to have plans to go out that day too?"
Since Zhang Jin’an and Jiang Siyang started dating, the people around them had also grown closer. Li Qiang, Xiao Zhou, Liu Wenping, and Xie Jie had even begun sharing schedules with one another.
Li Qiang called it "exchanging company intelligence," but in reality, it was just gossip.
"Yeah, he’s going back to his high school for some anniversary celebration," Zhang Jin’an said.
Jiang Siyang had told him about it a few days ago. At the time, Zhang Jin’an had even asked him for photos from his high school days. So, in addition to the graduation photo from *Friday Morning*, Zhang Jin’an had seen a photo of Jiang Siyang surrounded by a crowd during a club activity. In that photo, Jiang Siyang wore a white shirt, looking clean and refreshing, talking to someone with a smile in his eyes.
Jiang Siyang stood out, both in height and appearance.
If the internet had been as developed back then, there would surely have been hundreds of photos of Jiang Siyang under the topic of "handsome commoners."
Not to mention that Jiang Siyang returning to school now would certainly draw a massive crowd. Zhang Jin’an was already prepared to go to Weibo to save the photos.
"If you were asked to go back to your high school, would you go?" Li Qiang suddenly asked.
Zhang Jin’an stiffened for a moment, though it only lasted a few seconds.
"If it were for work, I’d go," Zhang Jin’an replied.
"And if it wasn't for work?" Li Qiang pressed.
Zhang Jin’an fell silent.
Li Qiang patted Zhang Jin’an’s shoulder. "Have you looked at Weibo lately?"
"I have," Zhang Jin’an replied.
"Wasn't there that thing on there..."
...
Everyone knew the topic had been deliberately changed, but no one said it outright, simply following the flow of the conversation.
Zhang Jin’an understood the meaning behind Li Qiang’s pat on the shoulder; he had told Li Qiang about what happened in high school.
But he simply didn't want to let it go. He wanted to remember those people so that he would never have any dealings with their kind again.
Everyone has unpleasant times in their lives. If Zhang Jin’an had to choose, he would choose his time in high school.
For most people, high school is a time of unbridled, indulgent youth.
For Zhang Jin’an, however, it was an oppressive experience.
His pressure was different from Zhang Qingyue’s, whose hard work was looked down upon by her classmates, or Zhang Shuyu’s, who was called a "vase." He was a victim of moral kidnapping.
The things he heard most often were: "Zhang Jin’an is rich, just let him treat us," and "Your family has so much money, why are you so stingy?"
Interestingly, even now, there were still people who said such things about him.
They say a classroom is a miniature society, and that statement was absolutely correct.
Back then, as long as he participated in any group activities, he was expected to pay for everyone. If he didn't, he was "stingy"; if he did, he was "showing off his wealth."
Zhang Jin’an later discovered that no matter what he did, someone would find a reason to say he was in the wrong.
In modern terms, these people were "contrarians." No matter what you said, they could find a flaw. If you said you liked eating rice, they would say, "Are noodles not good? What do you mean by that?" If you said you liked both rice and noodles, they would say, "Your tastes certainly change easily."
Zhang Jin’an discovered this truth during the second half of his first year of high school.
He wasn't the type to shamelessly try to please the masses. He knew there was no point in being friends with such people, so he stopped following their arrangements. If he was happy to treat them, he would; if not, he wouldn't go. If he felt like chatting, he would; if not, he would leave.
Consequently, he gained a few more labels: "difficult to get along with" and "pretentious." Gossip traveled through the school faster than a rocket, and since Zhang Jin’an was already famous in his grade for his looks, the rumors spread to the entire grade within a week.
This is one of the most striking things even today—people jumping to conclusions without understanding the full story.
Of course, not everyone in high school was like that. There were kind classmates who didn't speak to him that way, but they didn't dare provoke those people either, choosing instead to watch in silence.
The event that left the deepest impression on Zhang Jin’an happened in his second year. Those people had directed their snide remarks toward his family, and he finally couldn't take it anymore, getting into a fight with them.
No one dared to step forward to help him. In the end, a teacher came and pulled them apart, and he received a demerit because of it.
After that incident, many classmates spoke ill of those people to him in private, saying things like, "I’ve been annoyed by them for a long time too," "What kind of people are they? You did the right thing," and "They really are trash."
At the time, Zhang Jin’an really wanted to ask: *If you were so annoyed by them, why didn't you dare to stand up?*
Later, he understood. The girls felt they were men and couldn't win a fight; the boys felt that because he was a man, he wouldn't be that fragile, so they didn't help.
He wasn't that fragile, but he had still hoped that someone in the class would appear—someone who would notice his actions and be willing to find out if he was truly that kind of person.
But he waited for a year and never met that person.
Later, in university and while filming, he met people like Su Zhiyang and Gu Yirou, whose views aligned with his. Only then did those dull, ridiculous years finally come to an end.
"It looks like they're about to finish," Li Qiang said.
Zhang Jin’an looked over. Sure enough, Director Tang stood up and walked in front of the camera. He saw Jiang Siyang wipe the corner of his mouth, take the script from Xie Jie, and run toward him.
Jiang Siyang really hadn't changed much. Aside from the bit of blood on his clothes, he wasn't much different from the photos—his features were simply more mature, but the smile in his eyes was still that of the young boy.
When Jiang Siyang reached him, Zhang Jin’an stood up, meeting his gaze.
Jiang Siyang’s eyes were full of anticipation. "How was it just now?"
Jiang Siyang knew he was watching.
Even when he sat in a corner like this, Jiang Siyang would notice him.
"You acted very well," Zhang Jin’an said, looking at Jiang Siyang.
Fortunately, he hadn't given up on waiting. He had finally found him.
***
