[Yiliang’s Diary - Excerpt 1]

I worked until 2 a.m. again before finally finishing. I’m exhausted.
The day after tomorrow—or rather, tomorrow now—I have to join Director Lu’s team. Just thinking about it makes me feel even more tired.
Honestly, I don’t really want to go.

First, it might be the "May sickness" hitting me—(TN: A Japanese expression referring to a state of fatigue or demotivation that often occurs in May)—I’m burned out from work and just want to stay home and sleep.

Second, one of my most devoted fans has been sending me private messages for five days straight, warning me that my rival will also be on the team and that I need to be careful and stay on guard.

According to her description, my rival is an imposing man, standing eight feet tall, possessing Herculean strength, with the face of a Shura (TN: a belligerent demon) and the evil voice of a ghost, wielding an eight-meter-long spear with such force that he could take my life in a single strike. Or maybe, he's a malevolent demon with piercing eyes, a venomous tongue, razor-sharp claws, and a half-human, half-serpent body, capable of shredding me to pieces with a single whip of his tail.

But it’s not like I’ve never seen my rival before. We’re in the same company.
Isn’t he just a clean and delicate-looking boy? He seems gentle and well-mannered, with a natural air about him, and he even appears a little younger than me. Every time he sees me, he greets me politely, his gaze pure and innocent.

When I told my fan that, she said I was too naïve and didn’t understand the malice of the world.

When I received that message, my mind was filled with questions.
First of all, I’m 23 years old and have been in this industry for a while—what kind of malice haven’t I already seen?

Second, I’ve seen my rival’s acting. If his behaviour towards me was just an act, then he’s really been hiding his true talent on screen—and not just a little.

Sometimes, I really don’t understand fans' excessive attachment.

In the end, she meant well.

[Yiliang’s Diary - Excerpt 2]

I’m a little annoyed. I finally managed to get off work early, but before I even finished preparing my bathwater, I received a message from my father asking for money.

I told him I’d transfer it to him tomorrow morning.

300,000. Then another 300,000. And another 300,000 after that. Looking at my bank transfer records, I feel even more miserable than Tony Leung in Infernal Affairs.

[Yiliang’s Diary - Excerpt 3]

Today, I joined the team. Surprisingly, I felt pretty good. It’s been a long time since I laughed so freely.

At first, after transferring the money, I felt a little down. Then, I received yet another message from my devoted fan, informing me that my rival had liked the post announcing my arrival on the team—clearly trying to ride on my popularity. She reminded me multiple times to be cautious and watch out for my safety.

I’m here to shoot a film, not to go to war. That only made me feel even more drained.

But in the end, it was my so-called rival—the one my fans describe as a ruthless monster—who ended up saving my mood.

He’s hilarious.

And he actually seems to be a fan of mine? That surprised me, considering he’s never spoken to me of his own accord, let alone asked for an autograph. We hadn’t even added each other on WeChat.

Well, until today.

The way he asked for my WeChat was so roundabout that it’s no wonder he never found the opportunity to do it before.

When I walked in, he was watching one of my older dramas—the one I filmed when I had just started out. Hardly anyone talks about it anymore, and I have no idea where he even found it. But he was watching with such intense focus.

How should I put it… Seeing someone genuinely engaged in your work is a strange feeling.

No wonder he accidentally liked the post about my arrival. Turns out, he doesn’t even follow that account. He must have searched for my name and clicked on it by mistake.

Looking up his rival’s name, not even switching hands to hold his phone, and then forgetting to undo the like… Honestly, he doesn’t seem very devious.

He also brought me a milk tea, stumbling over his words and clearly flustered—probably embarrassed that I caught him.

Hmm, that’s actually kind of cute.

I don’t know if it’s appropriate to describe a guy my age as “cute,” but he really is.

Ah, I just wrote “cute” three times.

Now four.

If my devoted fan sends me another warning message, I could confidently respond to her now.

Or maybe not. That might put my rival in a bad spot. After all, people tend to rebel against being told what to do. Honestly, it’s only because she nagged me so much that I deliberately went and knocked on my rival’s dressing room door the moment I finished my makeup.

Thinking about it, I should actually thank her. Without her, I wouldn’t have discovered that my rival is unexpectedly pleasant. And cute.

Five times now.

After the shoot began, I got to watch a scene between him and the lead actor. To sum up my impression: if the way he acts around me was all just a performance, I’ll retire from acting immediately.

But if I get the chance, I might give him a few pointers. His eyes are incredibly expressive.

I realize I’ve been boasting a bit too much. I should stay humble. I need to remember that.

Oh, and he knows I don’t like sweets.

 

Translator : DarNan