In the makeup room on set, a man sat with his eyes closed as the makeup artist applied cosmetics. His long black hair cascaded over his shoulders, and his lips, yet to be colored, appeared pale, adding a touch of frailty.

“Ming laoshi, all done.”

Ming Che opened his eyes and saw himself in the mirror. It had been five years since he joined Senhai Entertainment. During this time, he had acted in several TV dramas, though mostly in supporting roles like the second or third male lead.

The company intended to promote him, but Ming Che lacked ambition, and his health often couldn’t keep up with a busy schedule, frequently falling ill. As a result, the company didn’t arrange too many engagements for him.

This time, he was shooting a costume drama set in a cultivation world. Ming Che played the second male lead, a gentle and affectionate senior brother who ultimately sacrifices himself to protect the female lead. Today’s shoot was for a still where he takes a fatal blow for the heroine.

Ming Che walked to the set, where the makeup artist added some fake blood to the corner of his mouth. He posed with a sword, defending against an unseen opponent. The wind machine started, lifting his long hair and robes, and the jade pendant at his waist shattered as blood trickled from his lips.

Disheveled and fragile, like a butterfly’s final dance, beautiful yet resolute. Ming Che’s gaze was spot on, showing a determination to protect the girl he loved, even at the cost of his life.

The set fell silent, with only the sound of the camera shutter clicking continuously.

The wind machine gradually stopped, and his flowing hair settled back onto his shoulders. Ming Che lowered his gaze and sheathed his sword.

There were a few more poses to shoot. Ming Che cooperated to complete them, and after wrapping up for the day, he got into the company-arranged car to return to the hotel. In a few days, the drama would officially start filming, and he had a few more days of leisure.

Ming Che took a bath, changed into a robe, and lay on the bed. He hadn’t slept well after traveling overnight, and now he could finally get a good rest.

With blackout curtains and a soothing aroma by the bedside, everything was peaceful and comfortable. Ming Che quickly drifted into sleep.

…

The release of the stills from “Flowing Pearls” caused a sensation online. Fans from various fandoms actively organized events, and large screen support followed.

The large screens outside shopping malls became fan hotspots, causing traffic congestion and slow-moving vehicles.

“Young Master, given the current situation, we might be a bit late.”

The person in the back seat looked up, glancing out the window. His gaze was drawn to the screen’s image.

A man in white ancient attire stood in a bamboo forest, frowning in pain. His long sword was knocked away, and a golden artifact pierced his body, blood continuously spilling from his lips. His pupils gradually lost focus, and the jade pendant at his waist shattered, symbolizing his death.

Even after the screen changed to another protagonist, the man didn’t look away.

The reason was simple: this face was deeply etched in his memory, one Wen Lin thought he had forgotten.

Not long after the college entrance exam, his family found him. They gave his adoptive father a sum of money and took him away. Feeling guilty, his family tried to make up for lost time, eventually sending Wen Lin abroad to study. A year ago, he returned to inherit the family business.

Wen Lin withdrew his gaze, his voice cold, “Investigate someone for me.”

…

“Flowing Pearls” had been filming for a week. On a rare day without scenes for Ming Che, he planned to spend the day lounging in the hotel. Unexpectedly, his agent called.

Ming Che’s current agent, Lu Hai, was the one who initially invited him to become an actor. They were quite familiar, though Lu Hai had been busy in recent years.

“What’s up?”

Ming Che answered the call, speaking lazily.

“I saw your schedule. You should be free today, right?”

Ming Che sensed something unusual.

“Do you need something?”

“Yes, I do. I’m driving over to pick you up. I’ll explain on the way.”

The sound of car horns came from Lu Hai’s side. Ming Che didn’t say much, agreeing before hanging up. He changed clothes and watched TV while waiting for Lu Hai.

Half an hour later, Lu Hai arrived downstairs. Ming Che took his room card and went out, finding Lu Hai’s car in the parking lot and getting into the back seat.

“You should wear a mask when you go out,” Lu Hai said, seeing Ming Che’s casual appearance.

“It’s fine in the hotel. So, what’s this about?”

What made Lu Hai come all the way here to find him?

“Someone wants to meet you.”

“Hmm?” Ming Che’s tone rose.

“I’ve declined many times, but they insisted on meeting you. I really couldn’t refuse this time.”

“Who is it?”

“I don’t know exactly, but they must be someone important. I agreed to go just this once.”

Ming Che leaned back in his seat, arms crossed. The parking lot’s lighting wasn’t great, obscuring his expression.

“They assured me nothing would happen, just a meal.”

“Let’s go.”

“Huh?” Lu Hai doubted his ears.

“I said, let’s go. Drive.”

After saying this, Ming Che closed his eyes to rest.

Having gained much experience with Ming Che over the years, 977 began to worry.

[Host, is this okay?]

[It’s fine. I’m curious to see who is so interested in me.]

Ming Che had a comfortable nap, and when he woke, they had arrived. Lu Hai was stopped at the entrance, so Ming Che went in alone. He followed an attendant upstairs to a private billiard room, where only a practice partner in work attire was present.

“Sir, care for a game?” the practice partner asked.

“I’ve never played billiards.”

“The rules are simple. I’m sure you’ll pick it up quickly.”

“Alright, let’s try.”

The practice partner explained the rules and helped him choose a beginner-friendly cue. The partner broke, sinking a solid ball, leaving Ming Che to play stripes.

Despite the brief lesson, Ming Che struggled to hit the balls as intended, his shots deviating from the expected trajectory.

He observed the practice partner’s movements. When it was his turn again, he leaned over, hand on the table, aiming the cue at the ball’s center. Just as he was about to strike, someone pressed against him from behind, holding his hand and the cue.

A dominant presence enveloped him.

“You won’t hit it like that,” the person behind him said.

The practice partner put away the cue and discreetly left the room.

Ming Che turned to look, his gaze meeting a somewhat familiar face, now matured and defined, shedding the youthful innocence.

Thud—

The cue struck, sending the target ball rolling straight into the pocket.

Ming Che stepped back from the hold, placing the cue on the table, watching him leisurely.

“Long time no see, Ming Che.”

The last two words were pronounced heavily, carrying an unusual tone.

It had indeed been a long time. Ming Che tilted his head, smiling.

Was this a plan for revenge?

“Let’s start a new game,” Wen Lin said, removing his suit jacket to reveal a shirt and vest. He reset the balls and chose a suitable cue.

Ming Che picked up his cue again. “Just so you know, I’m not very good at this.”

“No worries, everyone learns slowly.”

Wen Lin was skilled, sinking three balls in under five minutes. On the fourth, whether by mistake or design, the ball circled the pocket but didn’t go in.

Ming Che’s turn came, and he hit the target ball, but it didn’t sink. Wen Lin took his turn, sinking one ball but missing the second. The game continued back and forth, and Ming Che realized Wen Lin was toying with him, dragging out the game despite being able to finish quickly.

Ming Che dressed casually today, in a white T-shirt and jeans. As he leaned over, the neckline dipped, revealing a collarbone. A bit lower, and more would be visible.

Wen Lin’s gaze shifted from his body to his face. He seemed unchanged, though his eyes held a hint of detachment.

Thud—

A ball sank, and Ming Che moved on to the second.

He aimed at the target ball, striking quickly. A slight deviation prevented it from sinking.

Wen Lin took his turn, sinking one ball.

Ming Che assessed the table, choosing the ball with the best angle. With a crisp strike, the ball dropped into the pocket.

Wen Lin applauded.

“Nice.”

“Thanks.” Ming Che moved to a new spot, trying a few times but unsure. After some hesitation, he missed again. He put the cue aside, watching Wen Lin.

“Let’s wrap this up. I’m getting hungry.”

“True, if we wait any longer, the food will get cold.”

The statement lacked credibility. In a place like this, guests wouldn’t be served cold food.

But Ming Che didn’t voice this. He watched Wen Lin clear the table, sinking the final black eight ball, ending the game.

Ming Che clapped as Wen Lin had earlier.

“Nice.”

Wen Lin gave him a slightly sarcastic look, saying nothing.

They left the room and took the elevator to the top floor, which was all restaurants but empty except for them. The table was set, ready for them to sit.

The dishes looked exquisite. Ming Che, having traveled far and played a game, was hungry. He picked up the knife and fork, cutting the food into bite-sized pieces.

Wen Lin wasn’t in a hurry to eat. He watched Ming Che with interest, his gaze unreadable.

“How’s the taste?”

How could it be bad? Ming Che swallowed his food.

“Very good.”

“Compared to the noodles you cooked back then?”

“…”

He remembered, but was there any comparison?

“Ah, it seems you’ve gotten used to this kind of food.”

“People change. Why, don’t these dishes suit your taste? I’m sure the chef wouldn’t mind making you a bowl of noodles.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary. Different people make different flavors, and even the same person can make different flavors at different times.”

Tsk, his words were roundabout, not as cute as before.

Ming Che ate comfortably. Having come all this way, he couldn’t leave hungry.

“Shouldn’t we toast to our reunion?”

No problem.

Ming Che raised his glass of red wine, clinking it lightly with Wen Lin’s. He took a small sip.

“It is a happy occasion, but I’ll be busy soon, so I might not have time to catch up.”