A subtle fragrance drifted through the air, light and shadow dancing like smoke, and his half-lidded eyes shot out sharp, piercing brilliance.
Anger and inner fire intertwined, burning fiercely, dazzling and searing—careless exposure, and one could be incinerated to ash.
The proximity was so close that even breathing seemed shared, the scent carrying with it an almost tangible warmth of the other person.
The kiss landed suddenly, catching Yu Zhi off guard. Even with his quick reflexes, he could only tilt his head just enough to evade the direct line.
Warm, soft lips pressed against the side of his face, brushing against his mouth, and that provocative, lingering scent seeped into Yu Zhi, wrapping around him.
The gap between them evaporated instantly; cold skin met this heat, absorbing it, body and soul alike turning scalding, almost unbearable.
“Get up.” Yu Zhi frowned, his voice low and measured.
Watching him flustered, Ji Xingyu couldn’t help but smile. Compared to the calm, composed Yu Zhi he always knew, he preferred seeing other emotions; anger, annoyance, anything that broke the perfection.
“What are you angry about?” Ji Xingyu pressed closer instead of moving away, letting their bodies almost collapse together, just a layer of fabric between them, no, barely that. His loosely draped robe left his chest mostly exposed, brushing directly against Yu Zhi.
“I’m asking you, what are you mad about?” Ji Xingyu leaned to whisper into his ear, his breath grazing Yu Zhi with a teasing, almost intoxicating warmth.
Yu Zhi’s eyes flicked over him once. He pressed his lips together, silent.
“You’re the one who wanted to rehearse the scene, right? In today’s scene, we were even closer than this, and you didn’t mind at all. You played the part of a proper gentleman, utterly unmoved. So now, what exactly are you angry about?”
Ji Xingyu’s voice drifted softly, teasing yet deliberate. “Acting is one thing… but the body?”
With that, his gaze slowly slid downward, tracing a certain point, feeling the subtle reaction there. A bright, joyful, and unrestrained smile spread across his face, like a child who’d just had a wish fulfilled, as if the anger he had been holding moments ago wasn’t even his own.
“So you can feel it… yet stay so calm? You’re making me think you’re… impotent.”
“So it turns out… that’s not it either.”
Yu Zhi, finally losing patience, felt this man needed a lesson. He pushed him away in one swift motion, sitting upright, putting distance between them, then tidied the disheveled clothing caused by the earlier assault.
His lips pressed into a thin line, eyes dark and controlled, the gaze toward Ji Xingyu laced with restraint, betraying the storm of irritation barely held within.
But the more Yu Zhi appeared this way, the more delighted Ji Xingyu became, like a mischievous cat who’d done something naughty just to catch its owner’s attention; the angrier the other got, the more satisfied he felt.
Once Yu Zhi had straightened himself and returned to his usual calm, composed, immovable demeanor, he crossed his legs, eyes still quietly observing.
“Physiological reactions are often beyond the control of the mind. Just like Teacher Ji clearly have that white moonlight in your heart, yet still couldn’t resist what you just did with me.”
Ji Xingyu’s smile vanished.
He stared at Yu Zhi, trying to read something from his expression, but after a long while, he found nothing.
It was as if nothing had happened, as if nothing mattered. Even being provoked, it wasn’t worth his attention.
A sudden helplessness washed over Ji Xingyu. Facing this man, it seemed there was nothing he could do but concede.
“Yu Zhi… is there anything in this world that actually matters to you?” he asked quietly.
Yu Zhi paused mid-motion as he smoothed his clothing, then withdrew his hands without a trace, his face calm and unreadable as he looked at Ji Xingyu.
“Ji Xingyu, what is it that you want now?”
Since arriving in this world, it seemed this man had been gradually unraveling, behaving in ways entirely different from the story he knew.
Not only was his attitude toward a substitute different, but his obsession with the unattainable white moonlight was more stubborn and unforgettable, making him fixate even on a substitute like Yu Zhi.
Yu Zhi neither felt nor believed that Ji Xingyu liked him. Any scrutiny, any grievance, was simply because, in his heart, Yu Zhi was the stand-in for that white moonlight.
After all, they were not close. From the moment they met until now, Ji Xingyu didn’t truly know him, didn’t try to understand him, and had never changed his feelings for any reason.
From start to finish, he was only ever a substitute in Ji Xingyu’s eyes.
Then where did Ji Xingyu’s obsession with him come from? Naturally, it came from that longing for the White Moonlight, the unattainable desire that could not be fulfilled.
“So… what are you trying to prove? Your own charm? Or your ability to attract me?”
Yu Zhi stared at him, unblinking, and said, “If all you want is that, then let me tell you, you don’t need to go to such lengths to prove it. I admit it: you’re charming, and you’re more than enough to attract me. But so what?”
“I will never like someone who keeps that white moonlight in their heart, then considers a substitute. And you… when you look at me, you’re not thinking of me. Can you truly let go of your White Moonlight?”
Hearing White Moonlight brought up repeatedly pushed Ji Xingyu to the edge of his temper. He clenched his fists, desperate to shut this man up, but he gritted his teeth, holding back… barely.
He drew several deep breaths, and in the end, the anger twisted into a bitter laugh. “Don’t forget, I have the power to keep you from ever rising in this industry. So keep provoking me… aren’t you afraid, Yu Zhi? Who gave you the audacity?”
“Naturally… your White Moonlight,” Yu Zhi replied casually.
Ji Xingyu finally snapped. “I said don’t you dare mention him!”
Yu Zhi chuckled softly. “Why not? Ji Xingyu, since it’s the truth, don’t avoid it. It’s useless. Unless one day I no longer have any connection to your White Moonlight in your eyes, even if I don’t mention it, the fact won’t change.”
Ji Xingyu opened his mouth to protest, to say You’re wrong, I don’t…, but the words wouldn’t come out.
Yu Zhi picked up the script. “Since you’re not in the mood to act today, let’s rest. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
Before leaving, he added, “I just hope you can separate work from personal feelings, so your emotions don’t interfere and hold everyone back.”
With a bang, the door closed. Ji Xingyu, after holding back for so long, finally grabbed a water cup and hurled it at the door.
Crash!
Shards of glass scattered across the floor, the water spilling and splashing everywhere, utterly destroyed.
Two days later, they resumed shooting that scene.
In the dimly lit room, Yi An powered down his Light Brain, preparing to enter his daily rest cycle.
The doorbell rang sharply. Yi An opened it and saw his lover standing there.
Lover = responsibility = burden = useless.
Although he had no fondness for useless burdens, he had no reason to refuse. So he opened the door and let them in.
Seeing him in his pajamas, his lover raised an eyebrow in surprise. “So early… are you going to sleep already?”
Yi An replied matter-of-factly, “From 9 p.m. to 5 a.m. is my optimal rest period.”
His lover had just returned from a business trip. Seeing Yi An like this, they thought he was deliberately acting cold and couldn’t help laughing. “Are you trying to act like a robot?”
Yi An led them into the bedroom based on memory. Just as he was about to resume his rest, his lover wrapped themselves around him from behind, their voice low and intimate at his ear: “Brother Yi… I’ve missed you so much…”
Kisses traced his side of the face, the ear, and down to the neck…
The room was quiet, the teasing bold, the atmosphere thick with intimacy. Yet his partner didn’t see the truth, Yi An’s eyes were completely emotionless.
For a moment, his gaze seemed to freeze. That wasn’t hesitation; he was calculating.
Even closeness between lovers had to be run through his program, assessed for efficiency. When the result proved useless, the data scrambled for an instant and Yi An did not move.
Confused, his lover looked up. “Brother Yi…?”
Seeing no response, they asked with concern, “Brother Yi, are you tired? Is your work too exhausting?” They reached to touch his forehead, but Yi An caught their hand.
Yi An frowned, displeased at the noise and audacity of this person.
His brain recalculated the situation: the trouble of not acting would outweigh the effort of complying. Without another word, he lifted his lover and laid them down on the bed.
The transparent bed canopy was lowered, shielding the scene of entanglement. Only two faces remained faintly visible; one dazed and one alert.
“Cut!”
Director Zhang shouted excitedly, his face flushed with tension, eyes glued to the screen capturing the beautifully composed scene.
Even after the cut, Yu Zhi and Ji Xingyu didn’t move quickly.
Instead, they glanced at each other for a moment, then slowly rose, tidying the disheveled clothes and hair. Yet neither left the bed immediately, after all, with the covers still in place, subtle adjustments would go unnoticed and could be easily fixed.
A few minutes later, they stepped off the bed as if nothing had happened and walked behind Director Zhang to inspect the captured footage. On screen, one radiated deep passion while the other remained composed; one burned with desire while the other stayed lucid. The striking contrast was mesmerizing, impossible to look away from.
Even Director Zhang couldn’t hide his self-admiration, gushing aloud, “I actually captured such a beautiful shot! How are you two so amazing… but of course, I’m still the greatest. My keen eye spotted you, giving you the chance to bring this scene to life…”
He should be excited and feel proud, after all, every frame of this footage could spark a fan frenzy, becoming viral wallpapers, phone backgrounds, and causing fans to obsessively lick the screen until their phones practically broke.
Ji Xingyu cast only a brief glance before looking away; he disliked seeing Yu Zhi so composed and unmoved in the frame.
A few days later, Ji Xingyu’s scenes were finished, and he was set to leave the set, while Yu Zhi had to stay for further filming.
Perhaps remembering that this was still someone he needed to serve, Yu Zhi personally drove him to the airport.
“Drive safely. Take care.”
Under the mask, Ji Xingyu let out a faint, ironic smile. If he didn’t care, why bother pretending?
Once his figure disappeared through the boarding gate, Yu Zhi turned the car around to head back. Yet, almost immediately, he sensed someone following him.
Yu Zhi calculated who it might be while maneuvering the car to shake them off.
By the time he returned to the set, he sent Ji Xingyu a message, warning him to keep an eye on the online news.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before 《Ji Xingyu spotted at the airport》 made waves online. Trending alongside it was this unfamiliar young man, Yu Zhi, the video of him escorting Ji Xingyu to the airport had also gone viral.
Before even officially debuting, he was carried onto trending topics by Ji Xingyu himself. Yu Zhi shook his head, marveling at the actor’s fame while also feeling slightly amused at the absurdity of it all.
Xue Yan, seeing the trending news as well, couldn’t help but click his tongue. “Just how concerned are you about your little substitute? You even paved the way for him yourself? No wonder countless fans are asking who that guy is.”
Ji Xingyu hadn’t checked his phone since returning. Only after waking from a nap did he hear about it from Xue Yan.
Still, it didn’t matter to him; he glanced at the news once, tossed his phone aside, and paid it no mind.
By not intervening, he was, in a way, tacitly allowing things to unfold.
At this moment, fans were already speculating. This must be either a new talent under Ji Xingyu’s studio or one of his friends.
Though his name was still unknown, Yu Zhi had already made a presence in front of the fans. If the two of them collaborated in the future, the audience wouldn’t find it awkward.
Xue Yan nudged Ji Xingyu, who was half-lounging on the sofa trying to catch a nap. “Hey, are you really going to hype up your little substitute already? Isn’t it a bit too early?”
Xue Yan had no natural talent for acting, but his understanding of entertainment industry rules and commercial instincts were sharp. To him, Ji Xingyu was moving way too fast promoting this small substitute.
Ji Xingyu continued to ignore him.
Xue Yan rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You heartless guy! I’m trying to give you advice and you won’t even appreciate it.”
Ji Xingyu opened his eyes impatiently. He didn’t understand. Wasn’t this guy just nitpicking? All criticism, where’s the advice?
“If you’re so free, go spend more time with your fiancée.”
Xue Yan, collapsing into the sofa, said with a sigh, “Ever since the honeymoon after our engagement, she’s been off traveling with her girlfriends nonstop. Doesn’t pay attention to me at all. Says there’ll be plenty of time for us later, but the time with her friends is limited, so she’s making the most of it.”
In other words, he’d been abandoned; otherwise, he wouldn’t have the leisure to come and chat with Ji Xingyu.
Ji Xingyu cast him a disdainful glance. Someone who couldn’t even manage their own partner was almost too useless for words.
But thinking of his own past experiences, he realized he had no right to judge.
Casually, Ji Xingyu turned on the TV, hoping to add some life to the otherwise quiet and dull room.
Unexpectedly, the moment the screen flickered to life, a certain figure appeared before his eyes.
The figure on the screen was a stranger, yet utterly captivating. Ji Xingyu couldn’t take his eyes off him.
Xue Yan, watching the familiar male lead on screen, asked, “You know Lu Qi? He’s been pretty popular lately. Not to mention, he acts well too, probably not worse than your little substitute.”
The single phrase little substitute instantly snapped Ji Xingyu out of his trance.
He let out a quiet huff, remaining silent.
If this person ever found out that he, the benefactor, had been thoroughly rattled by a canary, he’d probably never let him live it down.
“You like him?” Ji Xingyu asked, without even looking at the screen. Strangely, whenever Ji Xingyu saw that image, he felt as if that person was the one he had been searching for, the real substitute, someone he had to unconditionally support.
So, Ji Xingyu deliberately avoided looking at the screen.
Xue Yan waved his hands frantically. “Don’t say nonsense! I’m straight. If your sister-in-law finds out, I won’t be getting lucky tonight. Are you going to make it up to me?”
Seeing that, Ji Xingyu stopped teasing him.
After a quiet moment, Xue Yan couldn’t sit still and prodded again, curiosity evident. “Hey, so… what’s it like sleeping with a man? Is it the same as with a woman?”
Ji Xingyu: “……” How would he know!?
“Oh, wait, right, you only have your White Moonlight in your heart, never been with a woman.” Xue Yan suddenly realized he had just poked at a sensitive spot and quickly said embarrassedly.
Ji Xingyu: “……” Get lost! Friendship over!
Yet, no matter how much he wanted to shake it off, Ji Xingyu had to admit, he not only instinctively despised the White Moonlight Yu Zhi always mentioned, but even the White Moonlight in someone else’s words grated on his nerves.
White Moonlight, White Moonlight… it was infuriating!
Yu Zhi continued filming at the set for another month. Thanks to his acting skills and his knack for reading the director’s style and mood, he often nailed a scene in a single take.
Finally, when filming wrapped, Director Zhang, drunk at the wrap party, clung to him, refusing to let go, crying out that this was exactly the protagonist he had envisioned, that he wanted to work with him forever.
Once the wrap party finally ended, Yu Zhi drove back to Ji Xingyu’s home.
The lights inside were off. Just as Yu Zhi assumed Ji Xingyu wasn’t home, he noticed a figure lying asleep on the sofa.
Lying on the off-white sofa, covered with a coffee-colored thin blanket, a phone lay on the floor beside him, face down, right under his hand. It was easy to tell he had probably dozed off while playing with it, causing the phone to slip from his grip.
Yu Zhi stepped forward and picked up the phone for him. Just as he was about to put it away, he noticed the screen was playing a currently popular TV drama, and the male lead of that show, by coincidence, was none other than Lu Qi, the protagonist of this world.
Ji Xingyu… was watching Lu Qi?
The thought flashed through his mind when, suddenly, the phone in his hand was snatched away.
Ji Xingyu was fully awake now, rubbing his eyes. “When did you get back?”
“Just now,” Yu Zhi replied calmly.
Then, as if casually, he asked, “Mr. Ji, do you know Lu Qi? I hear he’s a rising star lately. This drama’s quite well made.”
The last trace of sleep evaporated from Ji Xingyu.
He opened his eyes, glanced at Yu Zhi, then at the male lead on the screen. Holding back the instinctive irritation at how much the actor resembled his White Moonlight, he gave a faint, wry smile. “Yeah… he’s really good.”
Yu Zhi’s brows lifted slightly; a flicker of something passed through his eyes, then vanished just as quickly.
Clearly, his mission hadn’t yet succeeded, he’d have to keep trying.
Ji Xingyu, who had been watching his expression closely, felt a stir in his chest.
“You… you think he looks more like that person too?” Ji Xingyu couldn’t help asking.
If he remembered correctly, he had never mentioned anything about that person to Yu Zhi.
Yu Zhi rose calmly. “It’s late. I’m going to sleep.”
Just as he was about to leave, someone gripped his wrist tightly, refusing to let go.
He gripped Yu Zhi firmly, pulling him down onto the sofa, then stood close, leaning in.
His phoenix-like eyes darkened, voice low and husky. “Yu Zhi, your concern about me caring about another man… makes me misunderstand… that you like me.”
The familiar faint fragrance lingered in the air, intoxicating. His lips parted slightly as he spoke, and just as Yu Zhi was about to respond, he was caught off guard by someone pressing forward, sealing him with a kiss.
After succeeding, he let out a soft, teasing laugh; his low, sultry voice whispered by Yu Zhi’s ear, carrying a lingering sensuality reminiscent of their past on-set performances.
“You made me misunderstand, so don’t blame me.”
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