Another vibrant summer arrived.
It had been a year since Gu Qingtong and Yan Chi had publicly announced their relationship.
Both naturally low-key individuals, they had spent the year immersed in their respective careers. Yan Chi maintained her habit of filming one movie per year, using the rest of her time to attend film festivals and official events.
Gu Qingtong, on the other hand, had decided to start fresh in supporting roles in TV dramas after co-starring with Yan Chi in “Bai Mei Sheng”. Always diligent, she had become known in the industry over the past year as a model of hard work. She starred in two supporting roles and took on one leading role in a fantasy drama, spending almost the entire year on various sets.
Despite their busy schedules, Yan Chi often visited Gu Qingtong during her filming. Rumors even circulated that during the production of her fantasy drama, Yan Chi—who hadn’t appeared in public for some time—was spotted staying at the set’s hotel with Gu Qingtong for nearly half a month.
At the time, an “official explanation” appeared out of nowhere, claiming that since it was Gu Qingtong’s first lead role, Yan Chi had accompanied her to provide guidance and support.
Gu Qingtong could only blush while reading such absurdly serious yet completely false statements. Only she knew the truth: during those two weeks, the “guidance” Yan Chi gave her each night had nothing to do with acting.
After all, Gu Qingtong had been separated from Yan Chi for an extended period due to her hectic shooting schedule. When they finally reunited, it was like a spark igniting a flame. The packed filming days, flipped day-night routines, and the irregular meals between scenes only fueled her desire. An unsatisfied Gu Qingtong clung to Yan Chi for two whole weeks until she was thoroughly content.
Yan Chi even postponed an overseas business trip because of her wife’s persistent—and entirely unreasonable—demands. But who could blame Gu Qingtong? She had long mastered the art of having Yan Chi wrapped around her finger.
By the time her fantasy drama wrapped, exciting news arrived: “Bai Mei Sheng”, her first movie as a lead actor, had finally secured a release date.
This was her debut as a protagonist on the big screen, and she was sharing top billing with none other than Yan Chi—the woman she had idolized and pursued since she was young.
When “Bai Mei Sheng” announced its cast, the public was initially skeptical of Gu Qingtong, a newcomer.
It was only thanks to the audition footage that Yan Chi had meticulously prepared and edited in advance that the tide of public opinion shifted. However, this also heightened audience expectations for Gu Qingtong’s performance, raising the bar significantly.
Aware of this pressure, Gu Qingtong held herself to an incredibly high standard. Her three months on set were particularly grueling. Re-shooting scenes dozens of times became a routine, yet under the guidance of Yan Chi and Director Yuan Jingyu, she demonstrated remarkable growth.
Even so, Gu Qingtong remained uncertain about whether audiences would accept her. In every sense, this movie would make or break her.
As “Bai Mei Sheng” approached its release date, it quickly stirred up a frenzy online. On the day the official trailer dropped on U-Station, it garnered over a million views in less than half a day.
The minute-and-a-half trailer was nothing short of a visual feast.
The lush and overflowing colors painted an intense visual tapestry, immediately establishing Yuan Jingyu’s signature aesthetic for the film. The appearances of Gu Qingtong and Yan Chi brought the scenes to life with unparalleled soul.
The trailer showcased the collision of passion and tension, blending fleetingly vivid and tantalizingly ambiguous moments. In just three transitions portraying confrontations across different time periods, it flawlessly depicted the two characters’ journey through love, hatred, and mutual downfall.
The final scene lingered on Gu Qingtong’s backward glance, embodying the essence of the movie’s title, “Bai Mei Sheng”.
The image, a live-action version of the costume test photo that had once stunned the public, came to life. Her tear-filled eyes refused to speak of anything, surrendering to destiny, yet resonated with heart-wrenching allure.
Themes of same-sex love, sensuality, and aesthetic artistry were typically niche. But with such intense visuals and an overwhelming sense of tension, no audience could resist the film’s charm.
The barrage of comments and screams in the live chat and comment section was relentless:
[Director Yuan is a legend!! I declare this the best trailer of the year—every single frame is a work of art!]
[Beautiful women falling in love and fighting in bed and out—is this really something I can see for the price of one movie ticket?! That scene of the crazed empress coughing blood and kneeling—I’m exploding, this is my new kink!!]
[Please don’t delete a single scene from the trailer, I’m begging the censors!]
Under the last comment was a flood of sobbing and agreements, with everyone pleading for mercy from the censors.
Yuan Jingyu’s works have always been known for their bold themes. While the full versions were submitted to film festivals, the domestic screenings inevitably went through multiple rounds of cuts.
Even so, fans and movie enthusiasts remained highly optimistic. If they couldn’t feast on the main dish, surely they could still savor the atmospheric broth.
The trailer alone made it clear: Yan Chi and Gu Qingtong didn’t even need to “do” much to deliver electric tension—just standing together was enough to radiate dominance and chemistry at D-max levels.
Let alone the fact that it was directed by Yuan Jingyu, a master renowned for capturing sensuality on screen.
Yan Chi’s works have always been critically acclaimed and commercially successful. Even her previous niche indie films had achieved impressive box office numbers. With her reputation backing it, insiders knew “Bai Mei Sheng” wouldn’t disappoint.
However, when the early pre-sales began a week before release, boasting sold-out screenings and skyrocketing ticket estimates, the sheer drawing power of the Yan Chi-Yuan Jingyu combo still managed to shock everyone.
Of course, it wasn’t just Yan Chi’s fans driving the momentum. Gu Qingtong had steadily grown her own following over the past year, and then there were the long-suffering “Silent Gaze” shippers who had stayed loyal to their fandom’s undercurrents.
As excitement reached a fever pitch, an anonymous rich fan of Gu Qingtong took things to another level, pre-booking 50 full screenings all by themselves.
Their extravagant generosity once again left the fandom in awe, proving that being a fan didn’t always require restraint when you had unlimited resources.
This time, news of this big-spending “mysterious rich fan” even reached Gu Qingtong herself.
But what Gu Qingtong never expected was that the legendary “rich fan” was none other than her younger sister, Gu Siyuan, who was still a student.
After all, Gu Siyuan had already started profiting from a casual entrepreneurial project during her time studying abroad. Later, before returning home, she sold it to a foreign tech company that had been eyeing an acquisition for a while, securing yearly dividends in the tens of millions. This made her far wealthier than Gu Qingtong, whose family shares were still tied up in the inheritance process.
The premiere was scheduled for a week before the film’s public release, and both Yan Chi and Gu Qingtong would attend the promotional event. Tickets for the media were notoriously hard to come by, and the promotional team for *Hundreds of Enchantments* went the extra mile by inviting some fans to watch the premiere and interact with the lead actresses, collectively known by fans as the “Silent Gaze” duo.
By the time Gu Qingtong and Yan Chi stepped onto the stage, the theater was already packed to the brim. Almost everyone had a professional camera pointed at the pair, snapping non-stop—either industry media or fan-site photographers.
Sweeping her gaze across the audience, Gu Qingtong quickly recognized quite a few familiar faces. There were fans who always followed her schedule, as well as longtime Yan Chi fan-site photographers she had first known during her TT days.
Though the incident was long past, Gu Qingtong couldn’t help but feel awkward when her eyes accidentally met with those of Lizi, Ah Lu, and other core members of their fan group. She quickly averted her gaze in embarrassment.
Back at Yan Chi’s 15th-anniversary film exhibition, Gu Qingtong’s TT alias had been unmasked in front of the entire audience.
To make things worse, she had been sitting right next to “Bing Tang Xueli”, a famous Yan Chi fan-site photographer, surrounded by their entire “What Did Teacher Yan Eat Today?” group. Gu Qingtong’s cover was blown in the most chaotic way possible, forcing her into a face-to-face meeting with online friends while desperately wishing for an escape.
She had no choice but to exit the group chat immediately and disappear.
Still, over the past year, Gu Qingtong couldn’t resist occasionally posting pictures of Yan Chi’s stunning moments from events on her TT account, pretending to be just another ordinary fan-site photographer.
Her original intention was simply to share Yan Chi’s beauty with others. But every time she posted a low-key photo, Yan Chi would grandly set the latest image as her new profile picture and cover photo on Weibo.
Over the past year, Yan Chi has changed her profile picture more often than in the past decade.
Every time it happened, fans would collectively scream about how blatantly she was showing off her love for Gu Qingtong.
Embarrassed, Gu Qingtong would log out of her alt account that very night and stay offline for ages.
Now, as she swept a still-guilty glance over Yan Chi’s fan-site photographers from her earlier days, her former group chat was bustling with activity again.
What she didn’t know, however, was that the group had unanimously renamed itself to: “Big sister TT, How Can We Survive Without You?” after her abrupt departure.
[Haha, it’s been so long since we last saw sister TT. Why does she still look so afraid of us?]
[Sigh, I’ve already given up hoping Tongtong will come back to the group. Can she at least update her alt account? It’s been two months, and I haven’t seen her post any new photos or fancams of Teacher Yan—wuwu!]
Even though everyone knew TT was Gu Qingtong, they were still in the habit of calling her sister TT.
Back when Gu Qingtong was active in the group—although she wasn’t someone who chatted often—her photography was breathtaking. She was constantly bombarded with questions from group members about photography techniques and photo editing. Fan creators also frequently asked her for original photo files to use as raw materials for their edits.
Each time, Gu Qingtong would patiently guide them, sometimes even helping out with editing directly. Her generosity in always being willing to help out won her admiration and respect. Everyone in the group started affectionately referring to this unassuming big shot as sister TT.
Even after they found out that TT was “the” Gu Qingtong, they selfishly continued treating her as their sister TT and even renamed the group in her honor.
[We can look forward to next month—after all, Bai Mei Sheng has confirmed its participation in this year’s Golden Statue Awards Film Festival. Sister TT’s most iconic photos always come from these events. Since both of them will attend, we’ll definitely get new photos.]
Amidst a busy schedule of taking photos, Bing Tang Xueli still made time to send this message in the group.
Lizi had long been a “double-support fan site admin” for Yan Chi and Gu Qingtong, diligently following both of their schedules.
Gu Qingtong’s complicated connection with Lizi went way back. Though Gu Qingtong often tried to keep her distance, she had never removed Lizi from her contacts, even after all these years.
The information Lizi shared was accurate. As one of the three most prestigious awards in Chinese-language cinema, the Golden Statue Awards ceremony was set for next month.
Competition was especially fierce this year, and Bai Mei Sheng had strong contenders vying for the top awards.
No one knew whether the grand slam-winning actress, participating in the Golden Statue Awards for the first time in three years, could secure another Best Actress award for Bai Mei Sheng.
The media sensationalized all of this, but Yan Chi herself remained completely unfazed.
Instead of external hype, what she truly cared about was the finished product of Bai Mei Sheng—whether it lived up to the standard of perfection she envisioned.
After all, this was the first film she had shared with Gu Qingtong. And for anything related to Tongtong, it simply had to be the best.
Unlike Gu Qingtong, who would see the finished film for the first time at the premiere, Yan Chi had even participated in the production process, maintaining what could only be described as meticulous oversight.
She and Yuan Jingyu, two perfectionists, spent over half a year polishing the project until they were finally satisfied with it.
Thus, when the host asked Yan Chi for her thoughts on this project during the premiere, she didn’t hesitate to respond:
“To me, Bai Mei Sheng is my favorite work to date. A great deal of effort went into this, and the results have lived up to our expectations.”
Hearing this high praise, Gu Qingtong, who had been maintaining a calm facade on such a grand occasion, couldn’t help but blush furiously, revealing the familiar soft and shy expression her fans adored.
“N-No way, Teacher Yan is exaggerating!”
Even though their marriage was public knowledge—Gu Qingtong had even sweetly called Yan Chi “big sister” during their honeymoon livestream—in formal occasions like this, she always treated Yan Chi with proper respect as a senior, politely referring to her as “Teacher Yan.”
Yet this “Teacher Yan” sounded distinctly different coming from her mouth. For some reason, it was tinged with a coy sweetness and affection, as if it were Gu Qingtong’s exclusive privilege.
“Not sure if she loves the film or the person,” Yuan Jingyu quipped from the other side of the host, watching the couple, still clingy and affectionate despite being married for a year.
“Director Yuan, you’re joking again!” Gu Qingtong protested with a gasp.
Yan Chi, on the other hand, merely gazed at her little wife’s flushed cheeks with quiet amusement, a soft chuckle escaping her lips without denying a word.
The interview progressed smoothly until the host directed the next question toward Gu Qingtong:
“Judging by the trailer, Bai Mei Sheng continues Director Yuan’s signature style, rich with intimate, atmospheric undertones. Fans even found fleeting moments of physical contact when slowing down certain frames. Since you and Teacher Yan were already married prior to filming, I’d like to ask, Gu Qingtong—were these scenes achieved through camera tricks, or were they performed naturally?”
This was clearly a topic the media found fascinating, and in an instant, every gaze in the room locked onto Gu Qingtong.
For a real-life married couple to star in a same-sex romance film, it would hardly be surprising if genuine chemistry turned into actual sparks during filming.
“Of… of course it was all camera tricks!”
Gu Qingtong adamantly denied any real intimacy, sneaking a guilty glance at Yan Chi while she spoke.
To her surprise, Yan Chi’s expression remained calm and unbothered, showing none of her own flustered guilt. Then again, it made sense. After all, back when Yan Chi had blurred the lines between acting and reality, she hadn’t revealed even the slightest hint of her intentions. Only Gu Qingtong knew what was really happening beneath those costumes—those bold, unrestrained hands…
Despite her explanation, the audience remained unconvinced, leaving them eager to scrutinize the movie themselves and craft their own headcanons.
The interview continued with a few more film-related questions before transitioning to a lighter, interactive segment to engage the audience.
“We all know about the famous Heart Rate Challenge Teacher Yan and Gu Qingtong participated in on a variety show—both of you were so overwhelmed back then, you couldn’t even speak, creating one of the most iconic moments.
Now that a year has passed, I’m sure the two of you are as comfortable as old married couples. So, we’ve prepared the same device, and this time, you’ll answer random questions from the audience in the ‘100 Couple Q&A.’ If your heart rate exceeds a certain value, you lose.”
“What happens if we fail?”
Hearing the rules, Gu Qingtong felt a wave of impending doom.
The host answered, “Qingtong and Teacher Yan will have to change their official Weibo usernames to matching couple names for an entire week.”
“What?! That’s too much!”
Unlike Gu Qingtong’s shock, Yan Chi’s eyes flashed with a brief, amused glint as if she had just thought of something particularly interesting. Matching couple names, huh?* There’s already one ready to use.
Both of them donned wristbands that monitored their heart rates, with fluctuations displayed openly on the screen behind them—there was no hiding.
A microphone passed from seat to seat in the audience, much like a game of musical chairs. When the background music stopped, whoever held the microphone would stand up and pick a number corresponding to one of the 100 questions.
The first question came from a familiar face—of course, it was none other than Gu Qingtong’s fated rival, Lizi.
Thinking of all the times her alter ego almost got exposed thanks to Lizi in the past, Gu Qingtong’s unease only grew heavier.
“Number 18! Oh, and let me take this chance to confess to Tongtong!” Lizi beamed brightly. “This is the day Tongtong pulled me up when I tripped at last year’s event. I—I’ve liked Tong Mei for over a year now, and I’ll continue to like her forever!”
Hearing Lizi’s heartfelt confession, Gu Qingtong couldn’t help but soften for a moment.
However, the next second, the question announcement echoed through the theater, instantly solidifying her belief that Lizi was her destined nemesis:
“Question 18: What is your partner’s habit or quirk?”
