***
Chapter 62 – Coaxing Him
His words openly conveyed his intimate relationship with Jiang Liusui, yet remained perfectly measured—never crossing the line in front of outsiders.
Jiang Liusui had no time to bother with the stunned Wei Zixiao beside him. Taking a few quick steps toward He Yujing, he asked, “Why did you come early?”
He Yujing had previously mentioned his vacation schedule, so logically, he shouldn’t have arrived until tomorrow.
Moreover, Jiang Liusui had assumed He Yujing would wait at the hotel, never expecting him to come directly to the set.
“Director Pei let me in.” He Yujing’s gaze lingered on him, revealing a hint of admiration. “I came early to watch you film.”
This was his first time seeing Jiang Liusui in period costume. Today’s outfit consisted of layered pure white robes, the outermost semi-transparent overcoat embroidered with silver floral patterns.
Jiang Liusui’s hair was half-tied, half-loose—not conforming to any traditional hairstyle. This styling seemed designed to highlight the character’s sense of being untethered to rules, giving him a casual, free-spirited look.
As he walked, soft chimes echoed from the red thread-wrapped bells swaying at his ankles, while crimson silk strands adorned his wrists. He Yujing’s lips curved into a faint smile.
Jiang Liusui paused: “What are you laughing at?”
“First time seeing such an exquisite weapon,” He Yujing teased, his tone playful. “Looks intriguing.”
“……” Jiang Liusui was momentarily speechless at his playful attitude before breaking into a laugh himself.
Wei Zixiao glanced between them. Recovering from his initial shock at seeing He Yujing, he instinctively wanted to greet the senior he had long admired, yet felt an invisible barrier around their conversation, leaving him unable to interject.
Moreover… he vaguely sensed He Yujing’s earlier remark carried a subtle warning.
Just then, Director Pei came over to greet them, and He Yujing smiled politely: “Thank you for letting me in.”
Many people in the industry are fans of He Yujing, and Pei Wen was no exception. Knowing He Yujing wanted to visit the set, he agreed without a word.
Although inwardly thrilled to meet him in person, Pei Wen maintained a calm demeanor: “No need for formalities. You’re always welcome on set.”
“All right, then I’ll be imposing a while longer.”
Pei Wen nodded. Qin Yi emerged from the makeup room, briefly surprised to spot a conspicuous figure in the crowd before quickly understanding the situation.
Qin Yi approached: “Here to visit Xiao Jiang?”
“Long time no see.” He Yujing observed Qin Yi’s black robes, recalling his character. “Greetings, Young Master.”
His reaction mirrored Jiang Liusui’s during their promotional photoshoot—only with an altered address. The difference was, He Yujing carried himself with unruly boldness, as if begging for trouble.
Qin Yi: “……”
If this guy had been born in ancient times, he’d probably have gotten a serious beating.
Shang Qingzhi, standing nearby, came over with a smile to greet him. When the assistant director also came straight over to chat with He Yujing, Wei Zixiao couldn’t resist squeezing into the crowd, temporarily setting aside his earlier unverifiable suspicions.
No matter—he figured he’d greet him first! Opportunities to meet He Yujing in person privately were far too rare.
Wei Zixiao said excitedly, “Yu-ge! I’ve liked you for many years!”
Seeing his idol looking over at him, Wei Zixiao was momentarily at a loss for how to express his admiration. Without thinking, he blurted out, “I’ve listened to your songs since I was a kid! I learned singing and dancing because of you!”
“……” He Yujing’s expression remained unchanged. In his mind, he was thinking: What does that mean? Implying I’ve already become an old-school artist?
Seeing Wei Zixiao’s exaggerated wording, Jiang Liusui couldn’t hold back a laugh, and the people around them also chuckled softly.
He Yujing gave a strained smile and asked, “How old are you?”
Wei Zixiao belatedly realized his words were inappropriate and replied sheepishly, “Eighteen.”
Hearing that the kid had just become an adult, He Yujing’s earlier displeasure at seeing Wei Zixiao fawn over Jiang Liusui lessened slightly.
Director Pei Wen, having a sense of why He Yujing had come to the set and noticing the break was over, intervened at the right moment: “Time’s up. Let’s prepare for the next scene.”
Everyone dispersed as instructed. Before leaving, Jiang Liusui deliberately moved closer to He Yujing and whispered to him, “I’m going to dominate in the next scene.”
“?”
“Stand farther away. I don’t want blood splattering on you later.”
Jiang Liusui said it with such mock seriousness, as if giving a cheeky warning before committing some mischief.
He could tell that He Yujing was upset because of Wei Zixiao and wanted to cheer him up.
He Yujing, seeing Jiang Liusui gazing at him, wanted to ruffle his hair but couldn’t risk messing up his styled hair. In the end, he just smiled.
“Got it. Go ahead.”
With the clapperboard’s snap, the actors quickly slipped into character.
Li Yan secretly maintained contact with the emperor. Ming Zhao, a death envoy sent by the palace, knew that if Li Yan succeeded to the throne, Ling would gain his freedom. But if her husband, Li Heng, took the throne, Ling would inevitably face death once the emperor suppressed the rebellion.
Once, when Li Yan sent a messenger to deliver a letter to the palace, they were nearly discovered by the manor’s guards. Ming Zhao covertly helped divert the guards, ensuring the messenger’s safe departure. She let out a long sigh of relief.
She couldn’t quite explain her motives—perhaps she hoped the Old Prince and Li Heng’s conspiracy would be crushed early, or perhaps she simply didn’t want the frail figure beneath the pear tree to vanish forever.
Even so, Li Heng eventually noticed Li Yan’s unusual behavior.
Li Heng bided his time until the night of the uprising, when he finally shed his disguise. Just as Li Yan was preparing to join forces with the palace guards to besiege the manor, Li Heng preemptively imprisoned him in a secret chamber.
Like a seasoned and cunning hunter, he delivered a precise and cruel blow at the most critical moment.
The emperor, having waited in vain for the agreed-upon signal, realized something had gone wrong in the manor and promptly abandoned Li Yan.
As if nothing had ever happened, everything returned to calm.
Learning that his most cherished younger son had betrayed the family, the Old Prince was overcome with rage and fell gravely ill. He passed the title to Li Heng and handed over the Soul-Binding Chain—the symbol of authority used to control Ling—to his eldest son.
“I am temporarily entrusting Ling to you, but you must promise me one thing,” the Old Prince grasped Li Heng’s arm from his sickbed, enunciating each word clearly. “On the day I die, you must shatter the Soul-Binding Chain and have Ling accompany me in death.”
Illness strikes like a collapsing mountain. The Old Prince withered overnight, as though his vitality had been drained away.
Li Heng, listening, did not even raise an eyebrow.
“When you eventually rule the realm, he will be nothing but a harmful, malevolent presence. Keeping him will only bring endless cycles of mutual destruction for generations to come—”
The Old Prince thought of his exceptionally beloved youngest son. Li Yan ultimately ended up in a situation of killing his own kin because of Ling, a scenario no different from his own past.
Li Heng had shown coldness toward Ling since childhood; his temperament was unlike others, and he would likely remain unaffected by Ling’s sinister nature. Such a malignant force should come to an end here and now.
Moreover, he could not let go of Ling.
He was aging bit by bit, while Ling remained young and beautiful. The thought of Ling living forever after his death… The Old Prince’s wrinkled fingers tightened fiercely around Li Heng’s wrist. Seeing Li Heng remain silent for so long, his turbid eyes blazed with an intense light: “You must promise me… you have to say it with your own mouth!”
“Alright.” Li Heng finally spoke. “I will have Ling buried with Father.”
“Cut—!”
“Transition to Scene 49!”
“⟪Eternal Bell⟫, Scene 49, Take One, ACTION!”
Li Heng arrived under the pear tree and gently shook the Soul-Binding Chain. As the youth leaped down from the tree, he coldly commanded, “I want you to kill Li Yan with your own hands.”
Ling’s eyes widened abruptly. “Eldest Young Master!”
But under the influence of the Soul-Binding Chain, Ling’s gaze gradually shifted from clarity to confusion. All traces of struggle on his face smoothed into calm, and he finally replied emotionlessly, “Yes.”
Li Yan, with his hands bound behind his back, was forced to kneel in the courtyard.
Ling, holding a long sword, stepped slowly toward Li Yan. Seeing the white-robed Ling appear in his line of sight, Li Yan, who had already resigned himself to fate, froze for a moment before beginning to struggle frantically. The guards on either side stepped forward to press down on his shoulders.
“He wants you to kill me…?!” Li Yan’s eyes widened in disbelief. He then turned his head toward Li Heng’s direction, roaring with eyes nearly bursting from their sockets, “Madman! You truly are heartless—!”
Ling swung the sword down, his dark eyes devoid of any warmth.
Thump!
Blood splattered out. The severed head hit the ground with a dull thud, rolling across the bluestone pavement.
Ming Zhao watched the bloody, horrifying scene from afar.
She had been married to Li Heng for over two years but had never truly understood her husband. At this moment, a chill ran through her to the bone.
Li Yan’s every move had been observed by Li Heng. Could it be that her secret assistance that one time had truly gone unnoticed by him?
Impossible, impossible!
Ming Zhao repeatedly comforted herself. He was ruthless even with his own brothers, if he had discovered her betrayal, why would he still have kept her alive until now?
The moment Li Yan’s head hit the ground, splatters of blood stained the white robes, and Ling abruptly regained consciousness.
He dropped the sword, his hands trembling uncontrollably, and fell to his knees with a thud before Li Yan’s corpse.
Li Heng stood under the eaves, his expression unreadable as he watched them, half of his face obscured in shadow.
***
“Congratulations on wrapping up!”
“Congratulations to Teacher Wei on wrapping up!”
Cheers of congratulations erupted on set. Wei Zixiao got up from the ground and, seeing the bloodied prop head in the distance, couldn’t help but grimace.
Staff immediately came over to untie Wei Zixiao. Jiang Liusui shook off the fake blood on his hands and walked up to Qin Yi. “Pretty ruthless, Eldest Young Master.”
Qin Yi emerged from his role as “Li Heng” and was about to respond to Jiang Liusui’s teasing when he noticed Wei Zixiao’s gaze directed their way—specifically at Jiang Liusui.
This was Wei Zixiao’s final scene, and Qin Yi guessed he wanted to hear Jiang Liusui congratulate him on wrapping up his role. But since Jiang Liusui had come straight to him, Qin Yi decided not to comment.
Moreover…
Qin Yi glanced not far away, where He Yujing stood with several crew members, leaning idly against a pillar under the eaves. He had watched the entire scene from outside the camera’s view.
He Yujing appeared relaxed now, but Qin Yi suspected he’d immediately change expression if Wei Zixiao tried to speak with Jiang Liusui.
“That was well acted,” Qin Yi said to Jiang Liusui.
“This scene was different from the previous ones.” Jiang Liusui knew he had performed well but understood it was within his comfort zone.
Because he wasn’t good at expressing the pure, innocent side of Ling, in the past few days after filming he often sought advice from Qin Yi, and occasionally asked Shang Qingzhi for guidance. Even so, his portrayal of Ling’s naive and childlike side remained awkward, requiring repeated takes to satisfy Director Pei each time.
“Fortunately, we filmed these two scenes today. Otherwise, I’d be constantly getting NG takes in front of him.” Jiang Liusui gestured toward He Yujing in the distance and whispered to Qin Yi, “When we filmed the MV before, he kept getting NG takes daily while I rarely got scolded by the director. Now he thinks I’m some amazing actor.”
Qin Yi couldn’t help laughing. “You’re quite concerned about saving face.”
With this scene completed, the day’s shooting came to an end.
Jiang Liusui and He Yujing went to the dressing room together. Jiang Liusui closed the door behind them, twisting the knob several times before it finally shut securely.
His dressing room door had been problematic lately—not only difficult to close properly but sometimes unlocking itself. Jiang Liusui made a mental note to ask the stage crew to fix it later. He Yujing remarked, “During that last scene, the final moment felt very immersive.”
“Really?”
“Really, well performed.” He Yujing said, “I don’t give false praise. Ask Chi Lianxi if you don’t believe me—even with him… I’ll give credit where it’s due. Good is good.”
Jiang Liusui immediately believed he was being genuinely fair and honest.
Just as he was about to ask for more compliments, He Yujing noticed the milk tea and cake placed beside the dressing table.
Remembering how Wei Zixiao had earlier asked if Jiang Liusui wanted milk tea—which Jiang Liusui had declined—somehow the thoughtful gesture still made its way over.
With an unreadable expression, He Yujing said meaningfully, “Teacher Jiang is quite popular.”
Following his gaze, Jiang Liusui also noticed the afternoon tea Wei Zixiao had sent over, surprise flashing in his eyes.
“Ding Yan must have brought it in,” Jiang Liusui immediately clarified. “I’ll tell him not to accept these things in the future.”
“Didn’t he already wrap up filming?” He Yujing said. “No need, right?”
Even as he said it wasn’t necessary, he couldn’t help adding, “You two got along quite well.”
Jiang Liusui caught the implication in his tone: “You noticed that too?”
Jiang Liusui reached out, gently stroking He Yujing’s neck in a soothing gesture, as if petting some startled big cat. “You don’t mind, do you? I didn’t notice at first.”
He Yujing could never actually get angry with him over something like this—being popular wasn’t Jiang Liusui’s fault. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a little jealous.
Seeing Jiang Liusui coaxing him so softly, He Yujing was rather pleased and was considering whether to keep playing along for a while longer.
Click—
He Yujing glanced sideways and noticed that the broken door had somehow opened on its own.
Footsteps sounded from outside. Realizing someone was approaching, He Yujing was about to warn Jiang Liusui, but instead, Jiang Liusui clung to him even more closely, pressing closer.
He Yujing hesitated, “You…”
Jiang Liusui just smiled at him.
Outside, the footsteps abruptly stopped.
Wei Zixiao stared wide-eyed, stunned by the intimate scene inside the dressing room.
He had watched ⟪Fantasy Holiday⟫ and heard some rumors about He Yujing and Jiang Liusui, but he had always assumed it was just for publicity. The ambiguous moments on the show were mostly the production team’s deliberate editing—after all, such promotional tactics were nothing new. Wei Zixiao himself had been part of a CP with a teammate in his own group.
But He Yujing’s visit to the set today had made him sense something subtle between the two. He had hesitated at first, but realizing this was his last day of filming and he might not get another chance to see Jiang Liusui, Wei Zixiao had decided to head to Jiang Liusui’s dressing room.
Jiang Liusui peeked through the crack in the door and saw Wei Zixiao standing there dumbfounded. He then wrapped his arms around He Yujing’s shoulders, slowly pulling him closer.
He had just finished filming and hadn’t had time to remove his makeup or change out of his costume.
During the shoot, Jiang Liusui had been barefoot. Afterward, he slipped on a pair of fluffy white slippers. As he stood on his toes, the bells around his ankles jingled softly.
His hands, tied with red silk threads, emerged from the wide sleeves of his costume. His arms were smooth and flawless, the vibrant threads winding from his wrists all the way up, disappearing into the pure white cuffs.
With one hand hooked around He Yujing, Jiang Liusui used the other to touch his ear—trailing from the small ear stud down to the earlobe, then brushing against his earring.
“You look so good wearing this,” Jiang Liusui said, his eyes curving into crescents.
Wei Zixiao stood frozen outside.
Over the past few days, he had seen many sides of Jiang Liusui, but never one like this—seemingly without any edges, his gaze naturally filled with dependence as he looked at He Yujing. The emotion that Pei Wen had repeatedly emphasized and that Jiang Liusui had struggled to convey suddenly made perfect sense to Wei Zixiao.
So these two were really…? And all that time, he had even tried to flirt with Jiang Liusui right in front of He Yujing?
The shock was too much for Wei Zixiao. He turned around in a fluster and hurried away.
Hearing the chaotic footsteps outside, He Yujing understood Jiang Liusui had done it on purpose. With a teasing expression, he said, “You scared the kid away.”
Jiang Liusui couldn’t be bothered about anyone else. Clinging to He Yujing, he asked, “So, are you feeling a little happier now?”
— — — —
