Zhu Huai took a sip of the ginger soup Jiang Sheli had sent him. From head to toe, from his left atrium to his right atrium, even the palms of his hands were warmed through, leaving him so comfortable that his eyes narrowed contentedly.

Why? Why was this happening?

What had he done to deserve such concern from Film Emperor Jiang, whom he had only interacted with a handful of times?

Not counting that chance encounter two years ago, which Jiang Sheli himself did not even remember, this was the first time the two of them had actually dealt with each other. Although they had crossed paths at various banquets and award ceremonies, they worked in completely different fields and had never really spoken. They had never even had an opportunity to appear onstage together, let alone interact! The only time they could barely be said to have had any contact was during the fan war between Jiang and Zhu’s fans.

Just as Zhu Huai was racking his brains trying to figure it out, a bolt of lightning struck his mind, and he suddenly had a bold idea—

Could it be that, somewhere beyond his knowledge, Film Emperor Jiang had actually been secretly in love with him for years? And that the timeline and turning point had been when their two fan groups started fighting!

Film Emperor Jiang had learned that someone like him existed, and out of curiosity, had started looking into him, only to become deeply captivated by him. After all, two years ago, he had been shining brightly onstage and was known as the charming little Prince. Just look at that poll for the man in the entertainment industry people most wanted to sleep with: Jiang Sheli had left him behind by more than a million votes, but he had also left the person in third place behind by more than five hundred thousand! Wasn’t that proof enough?!

Perhaps, during those long, lonely nights, it was not impossible that the Film Emperor had watched videos of his performances and gone “Awooo!” while calling himself his husband!

And when he thought about how the Film Emperor had treated him during filming—sending him ginger soup because he was afraid he would catch cold, immediately arranging a makeup artist when he did not have one, being considerate in every possible way and thinking of every little detail—who would go out of their way to treat a stranger so attentively for no reason??

But if all of this was based on the premise that Jiang Sheli liked him, then every one of those oddities suddenly made perfect sense!

Zhu “Sherlock Holmes” Huai was so overwhelmed by this sudden outpouring of affection that he became dizzy and light-headed, his emotions surging, his face flushed and his ears burning. His thoughts began to run wild, and just as he was driving a Ferrari and about to speed toward the edge of the city, Xiao Nan snatched the steering wheel from him and turned straight into the traffic police station—

“Ge!” Xiao Nan shouted at the top of her voice. Seeing Zhu Huai’s strange expression, and knowing him as well as she did, she guessed that he had probably gone off the rails again. She said exasperatedly, “What are you imagining this time?”

Zhu Huai suddenly came back to himself. His eyes went from dazed to confused and then finally clear. The outer corners of his eyes were slightly red from his wild imaginings just now, giving his whole appearance a peculiar allure.

His sense of shame finally kicked in, making his face even redder. At a loss for words, he said, “I was just… entertaining myself with my own thoughts.”

Xiao Nan was exhausted.

Zhu Huai was actually an exceptionally well-behaved young man. It was just that whenever he stopped caring about appearances, he became like a lunatic, easily losing himself in his own fantasies. He would sit there blankly as though he had already attained enlightenment and ascended to immortality, with only his ever-changing expressions proving that he was still alive.

“Ge.” Xiao Nan looked at him suspiciously. “What on earth were you thinking about just now?”

Zhu Huai lowered his head and took a sip of ginger soup, inexplicably detecting a hint of sweetness. He mumbled, “Nothing.”

Xiao Nan’s worried, mother-hen heart was practically turning her hair white. She glanced at Xiao Yuan, who was sitting beside them like an old monk deep in meditation, and warned him, “Be careful when you’re outside!”

“Mm.” Zhu Huai slowly finished the ginger soup in the thermos, one sip at a time, and the last trace of coldness in his body was finally driven away.

He stared at the thermos for a while, took a photo, and posted it on Weibo.

Then he got up and went outside. On his way back to the lounge, he happened to run into Li Yun, so he returned the thermos to him.

“I’ve washed it clean. Please thank Jiang ge for me.”

Li Yun glanced at the few drops of water clinging to the outside of the thermos and said, “Sheli is very strict about filming. Take care of yourself and don’t let yourself get sick and delay the filming schedule.”

Zhu Huai smiled slightly, his eyes sparkling. “All right.”

Li Yun said, “I still have to deliver heat patches to Liu Qi and the female lead. I’ll be going.”

“Heat patches?”

“Sheli said it’s still cold out. We shouldn’t let everyone freeze themselves into catching a cold.”

Zhu Huai froze at that. Seeing that Li Yun really was carrying a bag in his hand, the surge of hot blood in his heart gradually cooled. He stepped aside. “You’re busy. Go ahead.”

When he returned to the lounge, Xiao Yuan and Xiao Nan were nowhere to be seen. He had no idea where they had gone.

Zhu Huai sat back down in the lounge chair, now completely calm.

After a long while, he buried his face in his palms and cursed himself for being overly self-important.

Jiang Sheli was considerate toward everyone on the production crew.

After sitting there for quite some time, he wiped his face, took out his phone, and opened Sword Shadow Jianghu, the mobile game he usually enjoyed playing the most, intending to distract himself.

The game had been released nearly two years ago. Adapted from the PC version, it had remained highly popular thanks to the fairness and playability of its PvP system. Zhu Huai had played it since launch. During his most difficult times, he would vent his frustrations in the game, so to him, it was practically half a spiritual refuge. Back when the mobile game was looking for an ambassador, he had auditioned as well, but his reputation had been so poor at the time that there was naturally no way he could get the endorsement. In the end, it had gone to Meng Xingyu.

Zhu Huai entered the game, intending to blow off some steam in the arena, and casually queued for a 3v3 match.

The game was quite interesting. Every sect had two cultivation paths. For example, the Hundred Flowers Valley that Zhu Huai played had one healing path and another for ranged damage. Players could freely switch between the two paths whenever they were not in combat, which was one of the game’s appealing features.

The matchmaking results appeared quickly.

Zhu Huai played Hundred Flowers Valley, which could either heal or deal damage. He had queued as a healer and was matched with two damage dealers: one from the Beggar Sect, a melee class, and another from Hundred Flowers Valley. Both of their equipment was fairly ordinary, and the Hundred Flowers Valley player’s weapon was even a blue-grade weapon.

Zhu Huai then switched to the enemy team’s information. Their lineup consisted of a melee Kunlun, a Putuo healer, and a ranged Longsword class.

(NT: Kunlun (昆仑 ) is a real legendary/mystical mountain range. Mount Putuo (普陀山), a Buddhist sacred site associated with Guanyin)

He checked their equipment, then frowned.

“Holy shit!” The Beggar Sect player opened the team voice chat and exclaimed, “The other team has three orange weapons? A whale team (NT: team made up of players who have spent heavily on the game)? What kind of luck is this?!!”

The Hundred Flowers Valley damage dealer also turned on her voice chat. A slightly sweet female voice came through, almost on the verge of tears. “Ah! I only need one more match to reach Rank Ten and exchange for a weapon. I’ve been going up and down for three days already. Boohoo!”

Zhu Huai put on his headset and turned on his microphone as well. “Miss, can you switch to healing? I’ll switch to damage.”

The Hundred Flowers Valley player sounded hesitant. “…I can switch, but I only have blue-grade gear for healing.”

As Zhu Huai switched his cultivation path to damage, he said, “It’s fine. Switch. Use all your survival skills on yourself, and don’t worry about me or the Beggar Sect. Hold out for twenty seconds, and we’ll have a chance to win.”

A sharp intake of breath came through the headset. The Beggar Sect player said, “Brother, you’re pretty arrogant!”

Zhu Huai said nothing. He checked the other team’s record and discovered that, apart from the Longsword player, both Kunlun and Putuo had far more losses than wins. To have reached their current rank, they had probably relied on their orange weapons to grind their way up.

In the PC version of Sword Shadow Jianghu, orange weapons could only be obtained as drops from ultimate dungeon bosses or world bosses, so getting one depended on luck.

The mobile version of Sword Shadow Jianghu was even more outrageous. After spending a cumulative 100,000 yuan (NT: around 13000 euros), every additional 688 yuan spent would earn the player a high-level lottery ticket from the system, which had a certain chance of awarding the main materials needed to craft an orange weapon. In other words, you had to pay to win.

In the PC version, an orange-weapon player was not necessarily rich, but they were definitely blessed with exceptional luck.

In the mobile version, an orange-weapon player was not only rich, but had to be blessed with exceptional luck as well!

Seeing that nobody responded, the Beggar Sect player was not offended and instead said sourly, “Thankfully, this game is about skill. If you’re terrible at playing, then even with an orange weapon, at most you’re just a rich player who’s terrible at the game!”

Zhu Huai chuckled softly and gave his orders. “In a moment, the Beggar Sect and I will go straight for Kunlun. Their Longsword will definitely come for our healer first, so pay attention to your positioning, miss. Don’t enter his attack range.”

The young woman’s ears reddened from that soft chuckle, and her voice unconsciously became gentler as she shyly replied, “Okay.”

The thirty-second preparation countdown ended. The three enemies charged straight toward them. Zhu Huai instructed his teammates to spread out, then, without a word, charged straight at Kunlun from the front. Staying at the edge of his attack range, he unleashed his skills at Kunlun while the Beggar Sect player harassed their healer from the side, leaving him no time to heal his teammates. The two of them quickly killed Kunlun.

“Focus fire on their healer!” Zhu Huai gave the order crisply, turned around, and threw an immobilizing skill at Putuo. After waiting for the opponent to waste a crowd-control-breaking skill, he immediately ordered the Beggar Sect player to unleash his ultimate!

“Ah!” The Hundred Flowers Valley player on their team screamed in panic and said miserably, “Sorry, I died!”

Zhu Huai glanced at his team’s healer’s health bar, which had turned gray. Ten seconds. His brows knitted tightly, but he comforted her, “They have an orange weapon. You lasted this long against them—you did very well!”

The Hundred Flowers Valley player’s breathing grew a little faster through the headset. After a while, she finally spoke in a coquettish voice, “Then, little brother, can we win?”

The moment she finished speaking, the enemy Putuo’s health bar reached zero, but their own Beggar Sect player was also killed by the returning Longsword player.

The enemy had only the Longsword player left.

Their side had only Zhu Huai left.

One against one.

And his opponent still had an orange weapon.

Zhu Huai’s heart sank slightly.

He controlled his character with serpentine movement, dodging several of the Longsword player’s skills. From time to time, he even landed ordinary attacks with pinpoint accuracy, relying on his sharp mechanics to chip down a third of the opponent’s health bar.

The Longsword class was already a high-burst class, and with the bonus from the orange weapon, Zhu Huai knew very well that if he took even one direct hit, his health bar would not survive it.

The enemy Longsword player was clearly much more skilled and perceptive than their healer and Kunlun. After Zhu Huai dodged another skill, the opponent suddenly activated a speed-boosting skill. The distance between them rapidly closed, until they were practically face-to-face.

He had chosen melee combat!

Zhu Huai was startled, but his reaction was extremely fast. He threw a damage-over-time skill at the enemy, then immediately backed away to create some distance.

But it was not enough. The Longsword player’s orange weapon had a longer attack range than an ordinary weapon. His retreating skill was insufficient to get him into a safe distance, and he still took a sword strike. His health bar suddenly dropped by half.

“Little brother, you can do it!” The healer on their team had no time even to act coquettish anymore and shouted at the top of her lungs in panic!

Zhu Huai had already figured out the orange weapon’s attack range. If he wanted to attack his opponent, he had to first enter the Longsword’s attack range, which was far too dangerous.

He could only face him head-on!

Zhu Huai narrowed his eyes dangerously. He activated a speed-boosting skill and, as he came face-to-face with the Longsword player, rapidly slid the joystick with his left hand, circling around to the Longsword player’s back. Before his opponent could react, he unleashed an ultimate.

The Longsword player’s health bar hit zero!

Zhu Huai’s heart pounded furiously.

Had he won?!

Suddenly, his pupils contracted sharply—

The Longsword player’s orange weapon had triggered its special effect, “Death-Defying Token”. The Longsword player was still alive!!!

“Holy shit!!!” the Beggar Sect player watching from the sidelines cried out in anguish. “Orange weapons are a bug! A BUG!!!”

The Longsword player had already turned around and activated a skill, while Zhu Huai immediately controlled his character and launched a fatal strike at his opponent—

Everything happened in an instant!

When a huge “Defeat” appeared in the center of the screen, Zhu Huai froze. Then he burst out laughing in sheer exhilaration.

It had been a long time since he had played such an intense arena match.

“Lijiang.” Zhu Huai murmured the ID to himself and sent the Longsword player a friend request.

System: [Sorry, dear player, cross-server friends are not currently supported~]

*

After Jiang Sheli finished his last scene of the afternoon, he sat in his private lounge playing on his phone.

Li Yun walked in from outside, carrying the thermos. Jiang Sheli lifted his eyelids and glanced at it before asking, “Did he finish it?”

Li Yun shook the empty thermos. “Not a drop left. He even washed it thoroughly. He asked me to thank you on his behalf.”

“Mm.” Jiang Sheli did not take his eyes off his phone. He was queuing for an arena match in the game and answered casually.

Li Yun had a whole stomach ful of things he wanted to say. His mouth opened and closed, then closed and opened again. In the end, he could not hold back and asked, “Aren’t you being a little too concerned about Zhu Huai?”

The game had already entered the arena. Jiang Sheli glanced at the opposing team’s information. Their healer had switched to damage, their equipment was terrible and could be killed in one hit, while the other two were mediocre. His own side had three orange weapons. It was an overwhelming advantage.

He asked in return, “Am I?”

“Seriously, isn’t it?!!” Li Yun was getting worked up beside him and began listing everything one by one. “Backing him up on set, sending him ginger soup, sending him a makeup artist—that would already be enough, but you even got him into this production yourself! That idiot still thinks he got in through his own ability. Did he even think about it? With his acting skills and his current status, how could he possibly get into Shen Peiping’s production? And not just any role—he even got to act opposite you! That’s an unbelievably good opportunity! You know Meng Xingyu, right? He’s a currently popular second-tier star. He was even willing to lower his asking price for the role of Wǎnguī and appear without a fee! And yet, for Zhu Huai, you casually said one word and kicked him out!”

Jiang Sheli said casually, «Meng Xingyu won’t do. I’ve seen him act. He has the same expression as a dead man, and he even has to look at the prompt board just to deliver his lines. Besides, he can’t take hardship. If he joined this production, wouldn’t he give Old Shen a stroke?»

Li Yun had not even had time to speak when Jiang Sheli added, «And since when did you start worrying about Old Shen’s budget? Have you two gotten together?»

«Gotten together…?!» Li Yun’s blood rushed to his head, his eyes rolling back. He desperately took several deep breaths before barely managing to save his own life. A string of profanity involuntarily burst from his mouth: «Gotten together, my ass! What’s with the personal attack?!»

After finally catching his breath, he earnestly tried to reason with him, «Anyway, what you’ve done already counts as going above and beyond what is required of you. It hasn’t even been a full day, and the entire production crew already knows that you treat Zhu Huai differently. If I hadn’t sent some hand warmers to the other people on the crew in your name to muddy the waters, who knows what kind of rumors they would have started about the two of you! I’m genuinely afraid that one day I’ll hear the media spreading some rumor like, ‘Jiang Sheli lowers himself to protect love!’ The fan war back then wasn’t your fault. The reason he fell into such a miserable state was purely because of his own actions. Stop taking everything upon yourself. Put away that strange savior complex of yours, and don’t give him any opportunity to develop thoughts he shouldn’t have. You’ve already put the opportunity right in front of him. Whether he can seize it is his own business. As for the rest, stop getting involved!»

Jiang Sheli did not respond, completely absorbed in the fierce battle unfolding in the game.

Li Yun clicked his tongue and raised his voice, giving him one final, emphatic warning: «Did you hear me?»

A huge character for «Victory» suddenly appeared in the middle of the phone screen. The enemy’s ranged player had unexpectedly been formidable, with extremely agile movement, sharp technique, and exceptional ability to predict his opponent’s moves. He had put Jiang Sheli through a grueling battle, and only managed to scrape out a victory thanks to his overwhelming equipment advantage. He took note of the opponent’s ID and answered Li Yun without looking up: «Mm.»

Li Yun had rattled off an entire string of words, and he had no idea how much Jiang Sheli had actually taken in. Thinking that Jiang Sheli was not an impulsive young man after all, and that he had managed so many artists under him and had seen every kind of ghost and demon (NT: idiom for all kinds of sinister, shady, or troublesome people), he simply shut his mouth and turned to leave the room.

Jiang Sheli pressed the button to turn off his phone. Of course, he understood everything Li Yun had said, but he had helped Zhu Huai for reasons that went beyond the old fan war.

In fact, he and Zhu Huai had met two years ago, but Zhu Huai probably did not remember. And even if he did, he probably could not remember what Jiang Sheli had looked like.

After all, that night had been so dark that even the streetlights could barely illuminate the road.

The young man had curled himself into the corner of a wall, wrapped in a tattered jacket, unable even to stand. He had looked like a young deer driven into a dead end, his eyes terrifyingly bright against a face drenched in blood. That gaze—uneasy, desperate, yet furious—had appeared in Jiang Sheli’s dreams countless times afterward, tormenting him with guilt and leaving him unable to find peace. If only he had stayed by the young man’s side and walked a little farther with him back then, perhaps Zhu Huai’s life would have turned out completely differently.

But at the time, all he had done was extend his hand and let the young man clutch it tightly, listening as he said in a trembling yet resolute voice, «I’m going to call the police!»

 

Translator : DarNan