Not long after, Gong Yue noticed that Ye Shanshan’s mood suddenly turned gloomy, as if a dark cloud had settled over him. When Gong Yue looked at him, Ye Shanshan quickly glanced back with a pitiful expression.
“Shanshan, what’s wrong?”
Ye Shanshan shuffled closer, feeling deeply embarrassed, and muttered in a small voice, “I lost a bet.”
“The box office?”
“How did you know?” Ye Shanshan was instantly startled. Could it be that he had been talking in his sleep?
“I saw the news.” Gong Yue casually ruffled Ye Shanshan’s slightly messy hair. “Why are you upset?”
“Because there’s a kind of sorrow that feels like losing an empire,” Ye Shanshan dramatically clutched his chest, for once cutting down on his usual theatrics.
“Ge, it’s because I can’t clear your shopping cart for you anymore. I calculated that number—11 billion—based on years of data from similar films, moviegoer spending habits, scheduling and attendance rates, as well as the influence of the cast and director.”
He nuzzled his head into Gong Yue’s palm and looked out at the sky through the car window, letting out a deep sigh. “Ah, the heavens have betrayed me.”
After a moment, he muttered, “So this is what they mean by karma. The heavens spare no one!”
Thinking about it this way, Ye Shanshan suddenly cheered up. He patted Gong Yue on the shoulder with grandiose enthusiasm.
“Ge, don’t worry. Once the movie I invested in makes money, I’ll buy you whatever you want!”
That’s how life should be—full of purpose.
Gong Yue’s gaze softened. “Alright.”
When they got home, Ye Shanshan first put away the gift Gong Ji had given him, then started wandering around the house. Hawk, the butler, was directing the servants to organize the luggage. When he noticed Ye Shanshan passing by for the third time, he couldn’t help but ask, “Young Master Ye, are you looking for something?”
Ye Shanshan looked at Hawk in confusion. “I’m not looking for anything,” he explained. “I’m patrolling my kingdom—my territory. I’ve been gone for so long, I need to inspect everything properly and leave a bit of my scent here and there. That way, no evil spirits will invade.”
With that, he happily continued wandering around with Liang Jingjing, circling the house four or five times before finally heading to his bedroom to sleep.
However, the heavens truly didn’t spare him. Ye Shanshan turned over in bed, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling, realizing he couldn’t fall asleep at all. His human-shaped sleep aid, Gong Yue, had gone off to a meeting, leaving Ye Shanshan to fend for himself.
After struggling for a while, he reluctantly opened his phone and posted on Weibo:
“How can I fall asleep quickly?”
He didn’t forget to include a nine-shot photo set of Liang Jingjing lying by his feet, which he posted along with the question.
The replies quickly flooded in:
“——Is Liang Jingjing the prize for answering this question? I feel like I’m not going to win, so who’s up for teaming up to ‘borrow’ the cat?”
“——Hahaha, is this because you’ve been counting the box office numbers until it broke your heart? I was worried sick before the movie even premiered. It’s an art film, so if the box office didn’t hit 11 billion, wouldn’t that be a huge slap in the face? I even saved money to watch it three or four times, but now there are no seats left! That’s cruel, lol.”
“——Am I the only one who noticed the real highlight? Our Ye Louzhu actually wore dark gray socks! Dark gray! Don’t think I don’t know this—Ye Louzhu’s socks are always bright and colorful, enough to make a rainbow. So spill it—I can handle the truth. Did you meet someone else? Those socks definitely aren’t yours!”
Here’s the English translation of the text:
Ye Shanshan glanced at the socks he was wearing—Gong Yue’s socks—and felt a wave of shock. My fans are incredible. How can they even tell these socks aren’t mine?
Unable to resist, he replied, “How did you know!?”
Ye Shanshan’s focus was on their ability to recognize that the socks weren’t his, while the fans’ focus shifted to a completely different matter: Did our Ye Louzhu just admit that he’s seeing someone? This confession came out of nowhere—we’re panicking!
Both sides were so worked up that the discussion spiraled out of control. Over twenty comment threads later, no one understood each other, leaving Ye Shanshan once again questioning whether he was surrounded by fake fans.
So, how exactly can I fall asleep quickly?
When Gong Yue returned that afternoon, he found Ye Shanshan sprawled on the bed with a lifeless expression, Liang Jingjing resting by his side.
Hearing the door open, Ye Shanshan turned toward him weakly and murmured, “Ge, I’ve been poisoned by a rare and severe toxin. I might never be able to sleep with you again…”
He even clutched his throat, his face full of anguish.
“Can’t sleep?” Gong Yue asked, taking off his jacket to reveal just a shirt underneath. He walked to the bed while loosening his tie, which he casually set aside. Then he undid a few buttons.
Ye Shanshan stared at Gong Yue’s exposed Adam’s apple, nodding blankly. “Mm, I can’t sleep.” He quickly added, “This poison is incredibly potent and extremely rare, so the antidote is also highly unusual.”
He looked at Gong Yue with deep seriousness. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Go ahead,” Gong Yue nodded.
“The antidote requires two people to connect on a spiritual level through… intimate contact, involving close physical proximity for more than two hours. Only then can the poison be neutralized.”
Ye Shanshan delivered this explanation with a solemn expression, nervously watching Gong Yue for a reaction. What if their spiritual connection failed, and his emperor didn’t understand him?
Gong Yue said nothing. Instead, he suddenly pulled Ye Shanshan up, pinned him against the wall, kissed him deeply, and asked, “Like this?”
His hand carefully supported Ye Shanshan’s waist, ensuring he didn’t get hurt by the wall.
Ye Shanshan’s eyes lit up, and he exclaimed excitedly, “Yes, yes, exactly like this! This antidote method is spot on!”
After holding Ye Shanshan against the wall for a while and kissing him some more, Gong Yue carried him back to the bed. Before doing anything else, Ye Shanshan wriggled to the side, stretched out his hand, and retrieved the tie Gong Yue had removed earlier.
With a serious expression, Ye Shanshan loosely wrapped the tie around his wrist twice and explained earnestly, “Binding my wrists with this will enhance the antidote’s effectiveness.”
He was dead serious, brooking no objections.
By the time night fell completely, Ye Shanshan finally fell asleep, still clutching Gong Yue’s tie. Gong Yue kissed his forehead, held him in his arms, and closed his eyes as well.
The next morning, Ye Shanshan got up early, threw on some clothes hastily, and dashed downstairs. Realizing he was running out of time, he downed a glass of juice in a few gulps, quickly polished off a bowl of zhajiangmian, slipped on his shoes, and rushed out the door.
Sure enough, Zheng Dong’s car was already waiting outside.
Xu Luoyang, who was standing by the car, opened the back door for him. After Ye Shanshan got in, Xu handed him a tissue with an expression full of disdain. “There’s oil on the corner of your mouth.”
Wiping his mouth, Ye Shanshan grinned. “Long time no see, Ch—Luoyang!” Then he greeted Zheng Dong in the front seat with a cheerful “Good morning.”
Xu Luoyang was also pleased to see him. Ever since Ye Shanshan had taken over Gong Yue’s position, Xu had been plagued by nightmares—one where Ye Shanshan was being chased by enemies, covered in blood, and another where Ye Shanshan’s whimsical ideas bankrupted the Gong Corporation.
Now, seeing Ye Shanshan in person, Xu’s maternal instincts for protecting chicks finally settled down.
Clearing his throat, Xu said seriously, “Shanshan, we start filming on March 9. I’m shooting the first scene that day.”
“I know,” Ye Shanshan nodded, showing that even though he had been far away, he still kept track of his younger brother Chang’an’s activities.
“So, since you haven’t joined the crew yet, your condition might be off. Let’s run some lines together!”
Ye Shanshan thought it was a good idea. Being so dedicated, he asked earnestly, “Which scene?”
“The one where the third prince, your character, is about to leave the Northern Kingdom and says goodbye to me,” Xu replied.
Nodding again, Ye Shanshan quickly recalled the script. However, when he opened his mouth to say the first line, he got stuck.
“What’s wrong?” Xu Luoyang asked anxiously, seeing him hesitate.
Looking at Xu’s expression, Ye Shanshan’s eyes widened as he suddenly understood. “You schemer! You don’t want to run lines with me—you just want me to call you Ge!”
The first line of the scene was, “Ge, I’m leaving.”
Realizing he’d been caught, Xu sighed regretfully. Such a rare opportunity wasted!
From the driver’s seat, Zheng Dong glanced at the two through the rearview mirror, thinking to himself: Why do I feel like I’m chaperoning a spring outing?
Both of them are so adorably silly it breaks my heart.
After about two hours of driving, they arrived at the film base. The place was bustling with people in period costumes, and the elaborate sets made it feel like stepping into another era.
Sniffing the air, Ye Shanshan couldn’t resist wrapping his scarf over half his face and running off to buy three roasted sweet potatoes. Among the crowd of “eunuchs and palace maids” huddled around the sweet potato stall, he stood out conspicuously.
In the end, he only managed to eat one sweet potato; the other two were snatched by Xu Luoyang and Director Zhang.
“Director Zhang, don’t you like barbecue? Why are you stealing my sweet potato?” Ye Shanshan asked pitifully, staring at his lone remaining sweet potato with resentment.
Director Zhang, who was directing the crew to set up with a megaphone in hand, replied while holding the sweet potato firmly, “People need diverse interests. Otherwise, life would be so dull!”
After barking a few more orders into the megaphone, Director Zhang finally put it down and turned to Ye Shanshan. “Are you ready for the costume fitting today?”
“Sure, but let me finish eating first,” Ye Shanshan said, speeding up his chewing.
Watching Ye Shanshan munch on the sweet potato with his cheeks puffed up like a handsome little hamster, Director Zhang couldn’t help but worry. Could Ye Shanshan really pull off the melancholy role of the third prince, Ji Lingyun? But recalling “Lu” and his own unerring instincts, his confidence returned.
After finishing the sweet potato, Ye Shanshan was taken to the makeup room.
The team first put a wig cap on him, then fitted him with a jade hair crown engraved with cloud patterns atop the realistic wig. The rest of the hair flowed naturally down his back, reaching his waist.
The makeup artist applied light makeup that was striking yet not overdone. One look was enough to leave a lasting impression, though something still felt missing. “Director, take a look?”
Director Zhang, who was busy discussing the set for the photoshoot, walked over and examined Ye Shanshan for a long moment. “How about adding a tear mole? I saw an ad with one, and it looked great. But would that be copying someone else’s idea?”
Looking in the mirror, Ye Shanshan waved dismissively. “That was my idea, so it’s not copying.”
Reassured, Director Zhang said, “Alright, add it.”
Sure enough, the addition of a red teardrop mole elevated the look. Even Ye Shanshan thought it suited the character perfectly. Adopting an expression befitting the third prince’s melancholic demeanor, the sorrowful beauty in his eyes instantly shone through.
Director Zhang, now fully satisfied, didn’t even wait for the costume designer. He rushed to fetch the prepared outfit himself, urging Ye Shanshan to try it on immediately.
Ye Shanshan complied without complaint, taking the outfit into the dressing room. However, traditional costumes were tricky to wear, and it took him nearly half an hour to put it on properly.
When the door finally opened, Director Zhang instinctively turned to look—and was left completely stunned.
[mfn]If you enjoy my translations, you can show your support by leaving a comment or donating to my Ko-fi. It will be much appreciated. Thank you! -TL: YSIAD
⚠️ Do not copy or repost my translations. Please read exclusively on knoxt.space[/mfn]
