Duan Heng finally opened his eyes, squinting slightly as his eyes adjusted to the light. It was only after a brief pause that he lifted his gaze, his expression gradually sharpening with clarity. 

As his focus steadied, the memory of the previous night became evident in his eyes. Qiao Si’s face darkened as he asked coldly, “Where did you get the nerve?” 

The young man let out a soft hum, bracing himself on one elbow as he tried to sit up. Their bodies separated with a subtle, damp sound that left Qiao Si’s cheeks flushing crimson. A stifled moan escaped his lips, the suggestive atmosphere momentarily overwhelming in its intensity. 

Qiao Si lay bare, his elbows propped beneath him and his legs parted. The remnants of the young man’s release lingered within him, a reminder that had yet to be cleaned. Attempting to reprimand the one draped over him in the stark clarity of morning drained his words of authority. 

Even so, Duan Heng kept his demeanor respectful, his tone gentle as he spoke, “Fourth Master, you may punish me as you wish.” 

Qiao Si furrowed his brows. “Tell me, what punishment do you think you deserve?” 

Duan Heng grasped his fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “Whatever you wish of me, I will do.” 

Qiao Si watched as his fingers were drawn into Duan Heng’s mouth, the warmth and moisture of his touch sending a ripple of sensation through his skin.

He was compelled to ask, “You’ve caused such a big mess. How do you plan to make up for it?”

Duan Heng held his hand firmly in his palm. “Are you asking me to slave away for you, Fourth Master?”

Qiao Si felt the alternating kisses on his fingertips, each one sending a shiver down his spine. After a moment, he finally spoke, “At least you understand the value of making amends.”

Duan Heng pulled him into an embrace. “How long must I atone for my sins, Fourth Master?”

Qiao Si’s expression remained somber. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself?”

Duan Heng pressed against the tip of his nose. “For such a grave mistake, I think it might take more than a lifetime…”

Qiao Si remained silent. Unable to restrain himself, Duan Heng kissed his lips again. Their lips and tongues intertwined in a deep kiss. Duan Heng asked, “From now on, what am I to you, Fourth Master?”

Before Qiao Si could respond, Duan Heng pulled him onto his lap, his hands caressing the bare expanse of Qiao Si’s back. “If I were to return, I would never let anyone else see you like this.”

“…”

“Or else, I might make another mistake.”

“…”

“Can I finally have a reasonable excuse to feel jealous now?”

Qiao Si tapped the young man’s forehead, and the young man kissed him again.

They spent a long time in the bathtub that day. Though the pain soon made it impossible to continue. Duan Heng then spent a considerable time on his lips and chest, slowly proceeding to kiss him from head to toe.

Qiao Si had experienced many kinds of intimacy with those beautiful young men, but he had never known someone could be so patient. He never realized that kissing parts of the body unrelated to sex could could be so pleasurable. Simply having his toes bitten by Duan Heng was enough to drive him wild.

The owner of the newspaper personally apologized three times before Qiao Si agreed to meet with them.

The leaked photos were nothing more than shots of him and Duan Heng entering and leaving together. Their closeness was barely noticeable. 

To write such a report based on those pictures would require an unusual level of imagination, unless someone had incited it.

Everyone was evasive about who was behind it, reluctant to speak plainly. 

There was no need to ask, for Qiao Si already knew. Who else would have the audacity to mess around like that?

Qiao Che’s increasingly obstinate nature was truly giving him a headache.

Sometimes, he felt that the Qiao Che he knew now had become shallow, fixating on trivial matters with a pettiness that had grown tiresome.

The man he had once been infatuated with seemed to gradually fade away.

Perhaps it was the long passage of time that proved to be the culprit.

Or perhaps Qiao Si himself was the culprit, the one who had long ago caused the Qiao Che who once captivated him to “die.”

Once again, Duan Heng had returned to work under his command. Despite his capability to be independent, his willingness to submit to Qiao Si’s authority filled him with a sense of reassurance.

Duan Heng still enjoyed acting, it was where his true passion lay. Unlike some entertainers who worked out of necessity. Duan Heng’s love for the performing arts was almost instinctual. 

Observing the shelves of videotapes and books that Duan Heng brought with him, Qiao Si could easily discern his interests.

Facilitating Duan Heng’s return to the entertainment industry was not a difficult task for Qiao Si. Major entertainment news had already scrambled to issue apologies, though they were quick to deflect blame. But at least they clarified the so-called rumors surrounding the photos and reaffirmed their stance.

Soon after, public opinion began to question the credibility of the media, prompting entertainers to revisit old grievances and voice their indignation over perceived injustices. This led to a sweeping movement to protect the reputations of public figures and condemn the media, creating an overwhelming tide of support. Celebrities embroiled in scandals found themselves vindicated, clearing their names and emerging with their integrity intact.

With a devoted fan base behind him, Duan Heng saw his negative press fade away. The sincerity he displayed when defending others—especially the time Qiao Si was attacked—stood in stark contrast to his quiet endurance in the face of rumors, which further elevated his popularity. As a charismatic and multifaceted celebrity, he quickly became the focal point of attention.

Before long, Duan Heng began preparing for his comeback film. Seeing the young man tirelessly at work was a pleasant surprise for Qiao Si. The dedication and meticulousness with which Duan Heng approached his work not only reassured him as a sponsor but also had a strangely captivating quality.

Qiao Si had never shown much interest in Duan Heng’s filming projects. He had never even made a token visit to the set. Reflecting on the past, he realized just how inattentive he had been toward him.

Having never visited Duan Heng on set before, Qiao Si found himself with some free time and decided to make a special trip. He wanted to avoid drawing too much attention, thus he chose to make his visit quietly and without fanfare.

Upon arriving at the set, Qiao Si refrained from asking anyone to escort him, simply entering the premises on his own. 

It seemed like a scene had just wrapped. Crew members rested in small groups or busied themselves with equipment, while the actors, still in full makeup and weighed down by heavy costumes, attended to their own affairs.

Qiao Si glanced around but did not spot Duan Heng right away. Instead, he noticed a tall man dressed in battle armor, engaged in a scene with a young woman in traditional servant girl attire.

The man was strikingly handsome in an almost eerie way. The white hair that cascaded to his waist and brows that reached into his temples. His amber eyes, cold and sharp, carried a fierce, almost magnetic intensity, while his dark armor only accentuated his intimidating presence.

As if sensing Qiao Si’s presence, the man turned to look at him. His gaze was sharp and almost thorny, causing Qiao Si to frown immediately.

The man’s expression shifted instantly, a smile spreading across his face as he spoke in a familiar tone. “Fourth Master, it’s me.” 

Qiao Si was taken aback, watching the man stride over to him, realizing that he had failed to recognize him at first.

Qiao Si reached out to touch the young man’s face, feeling the familiar contours of his cheek. “You look so different.”

Duan Heng chuckled. “It’s the wig, the heavy makeup, and the contact lenses.”

It was not just the wig and makeup. He seemed like a completely different person.

Yet, the Duan Heng who smiled at him now, gazing at him in that familiar and beloved way, was still the one Qiao Si knew. He then raised his hand to ruffle the young man’s hair.

Unable to be too affectionate in public, Duan Heng chatted with him briefly before returning to work. A chair with cushions was brought over for him, and Qiao Si sat down to watch the filming.

The scene appeared rather grand, with a sizable crew in attendance. Extras dressed as commoners knelt in rows, while a considerable number of soldiers lined the gates. Qiao Si held a script that someone had handed to him, but he had no interest in what was being filmed; he was only there to see Duan Heng.

It was some time before the man he sought to see finally appeared. The gates opened wide, and dozens of riders filed in. The white-haired man sat high on his horse, his arrival heralded by the sound of armor scraping together, slowly entering the village.

Qiao Si watched as the figure—more striking than anyone else’s—approached from a distance. The wind lifted his long, white hair, and as he drew closer, the color of his eyes became even more pronounced.

The man bore no expression of cruelty, only a half-smile that danced on his lips, accompanied by a subtle, almost demonic air of menace. He rode his horse forward slowly, naturally exuding an aura of dominance.

The horse’s hooves halted before the kneeling folks and the crowd held its breath. The man made no sound, no movement, his eerie eyes scanning the cowering commoners. In the oppressive silence, he finally raised his hand.

All eyes were fixed on his fingertips. With a slight motion, it was as if he effortlessly tore through the tension.

“Kill.”

The tension in the air suddenly burst, and the sky darkened with the scent of blood.

Qiao Si felt an inexplicable chill run down his spine.

The scene concluded successfully. After a few seconds of silence, the bustling activity resumed—some retouched their makeup, while others moved props into place.

Qiao Si remained seated, sipping his tea as he overheard a few assistants nearby rubbing their arms vigorously. “Oh my, I got goosebumps all over.”

“That was scary… I almost felt like I needed to kneel too.”

“But he hardly had any lines, right? How can he still be so intimidating? What kind of aura was that?”

“That’s true talent. Didn’t they say his acting is so good that even a lie detector can’t catch him?”

“That’s scary…”

“And that’s why he’s the Best Actor.”

Qiao Si had also heard Duan Heng joking about the lie detector story, it was a well-known anecdote among people. The lie detector could not detect that Duan Heng was merely reciting lines; his acting was so convincing it no longer seemed like acting.

Initially, Qiao Si thought Duan Heng’s usual image was too upright and gentle, making it difficult for him to portray such a sinister character.

However, witnessing this seamless take, Qiao Si finally understood why Duan Heng was universally recognized as a genius actor. It was not because he rarely made mistakes, but because when he chose to embody a character, he became that character with every ounce of his being.

Moreover, he slipped in and out of character with remarkable ease, never lingering between transitions. To him, emotions were no different from costumes; they were something to be easily donned and discarded at will.

As a seasoned film critic once flattered in Qiao Si’s presence, most people could not distinguish when Duan Heng was acting and when he was being himself. He could control even the smallest facial expressions, perhaps even his own heartbeat.

He was the finest actor Qiao Si had ever encountered.

Once several scenes were completed in a single take, the production smoothly transitioned into the meal break.

Having sat for some time on a chair that lacked adequate cushioning,  Qiao Si felt the strain in his lower back and frowned slightly as fatigue set in.

As soon as Duan Heng finished filming, he hurried over to Qiao Si. “Fourth Master, you must be tired. I’ve kept you waiting.” He then helped Qiao Si up from the chair and escorted him to a more comfortable seat.

In front of everyone, Duan Heng remained respectful and polite, his attentiveness perfectly befitting his status. Yet beneath the heavy layers of his costume, he discreetly clasped Qiao Si’s fingers in his palm, a touch laced with almost childlike mischief. Qiao Si cast him a glance, sensing the playful intimacy behind the gesture.

Everyone received a boxed meal and found a place to sit and eat. The conditions on set required some compromise; they were there to work, not to enjoy luxuries. Even though Qiao Si had a special status, he never expected anyone to prepare a separate meal for him. He just needed a relatively undisturbed space to eat.

Duan Heng sat beside him, carefully picking out the items Qiao Si disliked and replacing them with his own food to fill the gaps in his meal box.

The combination of the young man’s boyish charm and mature attentiveness intrigued Qiao Si. He did not eat much, sampling a few bites before setting his chopsticks down, rinsing his mouth, and wiping his hands clean. Afterward, he observed Duan Heng as he finished his meal.

People often never look their best while eating, as the act of fulfilling a basic physiological need tends to lose its aesthetic appeal. 

However, even as Duan Heng focused intently on his meal, still appeared remarkably pleasing to the eye. His youthful beauty was effortless, unspoiled even by the mundane act of eating.

Qiao Si found it strange that he once believed that Duan Heng failed to align with his tastes before.

When the young man finished his meal, he turned to face Qiao Si and flashed a smile.

Qiao Si gazed at the sinister face, recalling the chilling demeanor he displayed on camera. The young man seemed to sense something and asked, “Fourth Master, do you hate me like this?”

Qiao Si remained silent, prompting the young man to quickly raise his hand to shield his face, preventing Qiao Si from looking further. “I’ll be able to remove the makeup once filming is over,” he added hastily.

Qiao Si grabbed his wrist and pulled it down. “It’s not that.”

In this current state, he possessed a different kind of handsome allure, perhaps even more charming to some. However, Qiao Si was still not quite accustomed to it.

Obeying his words, Duan Heng lowered his hand, his expression tinged with unease as their eyes met.

He was someone who had never needed to worry about his appearance, yet here he was, showing an almost self-conscious unease, as though afraid of looking unattractive. It was a peculiar yet endearing sight, the way his strikingly exotic features betrayed a rare moment of vulnerability.

“Fourth Master…”

“Mn?”

“Was my acting great just now?”

Qiao Si stared at him and replied, “Very great.”

“Really?”

“I may be an outsider, but I can tell what’s good and what’s not.”

The young man displayed a slightly proud yet bashful smile, biting his lip as he glanced around. Seeing that no one was nearby, he quickly leaned in to kiss him.

It was just a brief touch of the lips, and before he could fully process it, they hurriedly pulled apart. The young man’s face flushed, his heart visibly racing. He looked so adorable that it softened Qiao Si’s heart.

“It’s rare for you to visit, Fourth Master. I’ll be filming all night. When will you go back to rest?” the young man asked, his eyes showing reluctance.

“I’ll stay a bit longer,” Qiao Si replied.

“Uh… I have a kissing scene later.” Duan Heng glanced at him before quickly adding, “It’s just for show. If the effect works, we can just use body doubles for that shot.”

Qiao Si casually responded, “It’s part of the job, there’s nothing to worry about. No need to be so cautious.”

Duan Heng appreciated his understanding and hummed in acknowledgement, though his expression subtly revealed a hint of disappointment.

Qiao Si looked at him and added, “Of course, use a body double if possible. I don’t like the idea of someone else’s scent on you.”

Duan Heng hummed again in response, failing to conceal the smile that was lifting at the corner of his mouth. Qiao Si had never seen someone so pleased by a bit of jealousy.

Everyone feared he would grow suspicious, worried he might get jealous, but Duan Heng remained as childishly innocent as ever.

Qiao Si seemed to like that childishness. The more Duan Heng acted that way, the less likely he was to suspect anything.

He was not afraid of Duan Heng’s acting, for he was Qiao Si. No one in this world could manipulate him again.

By the time Qiao Si returned to his bed, it was already past midnight. For some reason, he found it difficult to sleep alone.

Duan Heng had been busy with filming recently and rarely came back,  and thus could not tend to him. To his own surprise, Qiao Si had refrained from summoning any other handsome young men for company, a restraint that left him oddly perplexed.

Perhaps it was because he had experienced the allure of countless beauties, and the satisfaction of physical desire no longer held the same enchantment. For someone like him, who had accustomed to the world’s pleasures, the temptation of beauty had lost its intensity.

Imagining how heartbroken Duan Heng would be if he detected someone else’s scent on him, he decided it was best to refrain.

During the visit earlier, even holding hands had to be done in secret, and the most intimate moment was just a brief touch of the lips. Nevertheless, it was still quite pleasant.

Recalling the young man’s appearance, Qiao Si gradually became emotional, finding it difficult to sleep alone. 

With just a word, there would be no shortage of willing bodies to bring themselves to his bed. But instead, Qiao Si closed his eyes and leaned back, eventually falling asleep alone in the intoxicating scent of incense.

Time passed, and before Qiao Si knew it, he had drifted into a erotic dream. His dreams were vivid and strange, where he engaged in daring and fantastical acts of passion. He recognized the root of it all—unfulfilled desires taking form in his subconscious.

The dream remained chaotic for a while before suddenly shifting. In it, someone entered the room, climbed into his bed, and gently undressed him. The encounter held him close, kissing his body inch by inch, the sensations overwhelming him.

The dream was a torrent of pleasure, so vivid and intense that it was as though reality itself had blurred. A phantom presence, having prepared him with lingering caresses, positioned himself between his parted legs and penetrated deep into him. Their intensity was unrestrained, a whirlwind of sensation that left him breathless with moans.

Qiao Si was reluctant to wake, savoring the comforting rhythm that blurred the line between sleep and wakefulness. But the insistent pressure on his wrist grew more and more real, the insistent rhythm of his lower back finally shattering the remnants of his dream.

The heat pulsing within him was not a dream. Qiao Si’s eyes fluttered open amidst the shuddering pleasure of their intimacy, only to find himself caught in the throes of a very real embrace. 

His breath caught in his throat from the deep and possessive thrust that claimed him completely. The visceral impact left him trembling, unable to summon even the slightest strength to resist.

Even in the dim light, the younger man’s eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger. When he saw Qiao Si woke up, the young man claimed his lips in a kiss that brooked no argument. The tip of his tongue slipped in, desperately entangled with Qiao Si’s and filled him completely. 

What could be more intoxicating than waking from a sensual dream to find it gloriously real? 

Qiao Si could muster no word of protest, only surrendering as Duan Heng, with surprising strength, lifted him onto his waist. As if driven by long-suppressed desire, he moved beneath him with a near-ferocity. Their bodies intertwined in a dance of unrestrained passion.

His increasing lack of decorum would typically warrant punishment, but the raw desire in the young man’s actions made this lack of restraint seem almost tender.

Qiao Si even found himself somewhat drawn to his boldness.

Relationships, after all, thrive on impulse, disobedience, and all sorts of unruly behaviors—it was what made them feel genuine.

The next day, Qiao Si woke up with his body sore and his back slightly numb from the unexpected intimacy. The young man who had taken him by surprise was lying on his chest, still lost in the peaceful depths of sleep with his arms encircled around him. 

It seemed that both work and their intimate affairs last night had left Duan Heng spent.

Qiao Si ran his finger through the young man’s hair, gazing at his youthful and handsome face. Everything felt almost too sweet, like a fairytale unfolding on a screen.

His career was flourishing, and he had Duan Heng who loved him deeply. 

Such beauty and fortune—was there anything like this in the world?

After a while, Duan Heng woke up, groggily leaning in to kiss him. The kisses grew sweeter and more passionate, drawing him in until he was pressed completely into the soft mattress, unable to break free from the overwhelming embrace.

Qiao Si stroked the young man’s hair, pulling the affectionate man into his embrace. He could never quite understand why Duan Heng liked him so much, entirely like a loyal and handsome large dog.

But there was no need for him to know why. All he needed to know was that he had the ability to keep him by his side, and that was enough.

Since returning to him, Duan Heng had become increasingly diligent, cherishing every opportunity. Whether it was his acting career or internal affairs, he managed everything with great enthusiasm, embodying the spirit of a promising young man.

Qiao Si appreciated people with ambition. Though Duan Heng had already achieved great success, there was always a higher peak to strive for. In this world, the pursuit of power and influence was boundless.

He wondered what accomplishments Duan Heng might achieve by the age of thirty. With talent and hard work, combined with good opportunities, he might even stand beside him as an equal.

That day, Qiao Si was drinking with old friends. Just as they were about to finish, his phone rang. Qiao Si knew without needing to glance who it was. There was no one else who would time their calls just to spend time with him.

“I should be leaving,” Qiao Si said, slightly bowing. “Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Is it that Duan Heng?” As soon as Duan Heng’s name was mentioned, everyone present showed interest. “Invite him up, let’s have a few drinks together.”

The release of the latest film cemented Duan Heng’s mesmerizing and seductive image in the public’s mind. Along with the film’s box office success, his ranking in various “Dream Lover” polls across major magazines and websites remained consistently high.

Entertainers, after all, are in the business of selling dreams. The personas they projected on screen provided the audience with ample space for their imagination. When a celebrity was packaged well, they naturally became beloved by many, a figure of desire in the fantasies of countless individuals.

However, what the masses are enamored with was the partly fictional, handsome man presented as an idol.  

The most genuine Duan Heng, however, was a side that only Qiao Si could see.

“Maybe next time, he’s not prepared today,” Qiao Si replied.

His friends immediately teased, “It’s just a drink, what preparation does he need?”

Don’t spoil him too much,” another friend chimed in.

The one friend who was slightly tipsy after a recent breakup with his “little white bunny”, leaned in and raised his glass to toast with Qiao Si. “Qiao, when will you lend me your Duan Heng?”

Qiao Si shot him a glance, set down his glass, and said slowly, “You’re drunk.”

The old friend laughed heartily, not daring to act out further in his drunken state, and quickly added, “I’m just joking, don’t take it seriously. But honestly, he’s been with you for quite a while now. Are you serious about him?”

Seeing Qiao Si’s languid response, his old friend added, “It’s best not to get too involved. Actors are heartless.”

He then swayed slightly and pointed to another friend, “Look at him. He pampered that actress like a precious jewel, and she’s out there using his money to keep some pretty boy on the side.”

The friend, whose wound was thus exposed, angrily retorted, “Don’t ever mention that bitch again!”

Everyone quickly comforted him again, “Things like this happen a lot. Who hasn’t encountered it? Don’t let it get to you.”

Qiao Si, on the other hand, was still lazily sipping his alcohol as he replied, “Duan Heng wouldn’t.”

He was never the kind of person who lacked clarity. He had confidence in both Duan Heng and himself.