The young man’s voice was clear, pure, and pleasant, like a gentle stream; utterly beautiful to hear.
The aroma of the meal should have felt warm and comforting.
Yet Ji Xingyu quietly watched Yu Zhi, and suddenly let out a cold laugh, pulling out a chair to sit down.
“If you like deceiving yourself, I won’t shatter your illusion.”
The implication was unmistakable: since you don’t want to hear it, I’ll humor you, but whether you admit it or not, you are the stand-in for that white moonlight.
Yu Zhi’s brow furrowed briefly before relaxing again.
In that instant, he understood the situation.
As a successful man, older and far more experienced, Ji Xingyu naturally carried an air of dominance. In his eyes, he was just a rookie. Even if Ji Xingyu used his position to make demands or issue threats, it was merely indulging the tantrums of a young, inexperienced boy.
Even if Ji Xingyu complied, it would not be because he genuinely wanted to, but because of the subtle indulgence a superior affords an subordinate.
Yu Zhi’s previous assignments had mostly involved children, or at least younger people. Younger individuals have a natural inclination to obey elders, and he had become accustomed to interacting with them from a position of age and authority.
Facing Ji Xingyu, who was significantly older, his words carried less weight.
Yu Zhi thought this over calmly in his mind, but outwardly, he maintained a neutral expression as he sat down to eat.
It didn’t matter. If one path was blocked, he would simply take another.
Seeing the young man remain silent and start eating, Ji Xingyu guessed that he was probably upset. A small smile tugged at his lips, but he said nothing.
The meal passed in unusual quiet.
Ji Xingyu was not one to wash dishes. Tossing down his chopsticks, he said, “If you don’t want to wash, the housekeeping staff can do it.” He then got up to return to his room.
But a male voice called from behind him:
“Wait.”
Ji Xingyu turned to look at him, a trace of impatience coloring his brows and eyes. “Is there something else?”
Yu Zhi seemed not to notice his displeasure at all. He didn’t get up either, just sat there looking at him, his expression calm as he said lightly, “The total cost of today’s meal was two hundred yuan.”
Ji Xingyu: “……”
He looked at Yu Zhi, caught between laughter and disbelief, as if he’d just heard something utterly absurd. “…You mean, you want me to pay those two hundred?”
Two hundred yuan was nothing, one of his meals outside would cost several times that. But what made him laugh in exasperation was the sheer audacity and righteousness with which the other man was asking for money.
Yu Zhi shook his head. “No.”
Ji Xingyu was just about to think, That’s more like it.
When he heard Yu Zhi continue—
“Not just two hundred.”
Ji Xingyu: “……”
“Buying groceries, cooking, purchasing household items—everything costs money. Even if I know you’ve always behaved yourself for the sake of your white moonlight, you should at least have some common sense. Even if you’ve never eaten pork, you’ve at least seen pigs run, haven’t you? Have you ever seen a kept man not being paid?” Yu Zhi said unhurriedly.
Ji Xingyu: “……”
So how on earth did he even know that I had no experience?
No, that’s not the point. The point is, I actually got lectured by someone I’m keeping? And the reason is that I didn’t keep him properly?
What kind of absurd, fantasy-level plot is this?
The very person responsible for creating this absurd plot, Yu Zhi, stood up, meeting Ji Xingyu’s gaze at eye level, and said slowly, “If Mr. Ji isn’t proficient in this line of business, then please go study up on your own. It’s fine if I laugh at you, but if others start laughing, Mr. Ji might just become a legendary figure among patrons. What do you think?”
Ji Xingyu: “……”
With an expressionless face, he took out his phone, transferred 200,000 to the WeChat contact he had added earlier, then turned and went back to his room without saying another word, not even sparing Yu Zhi a glance.
He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from hitting someone.
Yu Zhi watched his retreating figure and smiled.
A week later, Yu Zhi officially joined the production for training. As the male lead and a newcomer male lead who had never acted in a film before, even though Director Zhang was very satisfied with his acting skills, he still couldn’t help worrying about other aspects. That was why Yu Zhi entered the production a full week earlier than the rest of the cast.
But very quickly, Director Zhang realized his worries had been unnecessary.
No matter the situation, Yu Zhi performed exceptionally well. Among all the actors Director Zhang had known, there was almost no one more outstanding than him.
Sure, some people could reach the same level of performance Yu Zhi displayed, but one mustn’t forget that Yu Zhi maintained that level consistently. Whatever effect he wanted, whatever scene he intended to portray, he could deliver it effortlessly, with complete composure.
Which meant he still had energy in reserve. This wasn’t the peak of his acting ability and as for how much he still had left, no one knew.
Unable to hold back, Director Zhang finally asked, “Were you reborn?”
Yu Zhi: “……”
Caught between laughter and exasperation, he said, “Director Zhang, why would you ask that?”
Director Zhang knew perfectly well that he was indulging in wishful thinking and didn’t actually believe it, so he laughed and said, “It’s just that I find it hard to believe. I’ve seen plenty of actors with exceptional talent, but I’ve truly never seen anyone like you.”
For others, you’d say they were fed by heaven, gifted enough to make a living off their natural talent. But in Yu Zhi’s case, it was more like heaven was force-feeding him.
Hearing this rather unconventional praise, Yu Zhi’s expression remained calm. He showed no sign of complacency, as if this were nothing out of the ordinary.
“Heaven’s food isn’t so easy to eat. Only Heaven rewards the diligent is the real truth,” Yu Zhi said. He didn’t think himself particularly remarkable. His current achievements and abilities were merely the accumulation of countless worlds from the past; aside from that, he was no more than an ordinary person.
Director Zhang nodded. “You’re right.”
Even so, because Yu Zhi’s acting was so outstanding and because his grasp of directing was no less impressive, Director Zhang found it impossible to continue treating him as a freshly debuted junior. Instead, he regarded him as a friend across generations, often discussing filmmaking with him in private and gaining quite a lot from those exchanges.
Half a month after filming began, Yu Zhi spoke with Ji Xingyu on the phone every night. This was both Ji Xingyu’s requirement and something Yu Zhi himself wanted.
“Looks like your production crew must be pretty idle. Otherwise, how would you, the male lead, have time to call every single day? If Director Zhang doesn’t want you anymore, don’t expect me to plead for you,” Ji Xingyu said with a sneer.
Yu Zhi looked at the man on the screen, the faint mocking smile visible on his face, and replied evenly, “Of course. After all, I’m not the white moonlight in Mr. Ji’s heart. How could I possibly be flawless and perfect in every way?”
Ji Xingyu laughed. “You actually want to compare yourself to him…?”
“I wouldn’t dare. I just envy that person, whoever he is, who can become the untouchable, exalted white moonlight in Mr. Ji’s heart,” Yu Zhi said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes.
Ji Xingyu’s expression darkened. “Yu Zhi, have I been too indulgent with you?”
This guy, eight out of ten conversations with him somehow circled back to those words: White Moonlight.
Sometimes it sounded like mockery, sometimes envy, and sometimes just a casual mention.
At this point, Ji Xingyu even suspected that if he said he was going to sleep, Yu Zhi might reply with something like, “Go meet your white moonlight in your dreams.”
“If you don’t want to be a substitute, then why do you keep bringing it up?!” he sneered coldly.
Yu Zhi’s expression settled; he stopped smiling. “It’s not that I bring it up. It’s that you’ve never forgotten it; never let it go. I’m only giving voice to what you keep dwelling on.”
The screen went dark; the other side had hung up.
Yu Zhi put away his phone, which didn’t receive a single follow-up message. Inwardly, he pondered whether the dose he had administered during this period was sufficient. If it still wasn’t enough, then he would have no choice but to increase it.
Since Ji Xingyu couldn’t forget his white moonlight, then Yu Zhi would keep bringing it up again and again, making that white moonlight constantly assert its presence, until Ji Xingyu developed a visceral, physical disgust for the very term.
Director Zhang’s film was a science fiction piece set in the future. There weren’t many outdoor scenes; most of the time, filming took place on indoor sets.
As a newcomer, Yu Zhi initially wasn’t accepted by anyone. Deep down, people were itching to give him a show of force, to let this rookie see what they were capable of.
But when it came to actual comparison, no one could say a word.
After that, no one dared to invite humiliation upon themselves. In private, they all began frantically honing their acting skills, terrified that they might not even measure up to a newcomer. This film was going to be seen by audiences across the country, and even worldwide. A momentary suppression could turn into a lifetime of embarrassment.
No one wanted that.
As a result, a wave of relentless self-improvement swept through the entire production. At any given moment, you could see actors studying scripts, discussing how to deliver scenes more effectively and achieve better results.
Even Director Zhang was left dumbfounded by this development. He hadn’t expected things to turn out this way, and inwardly, he couldn’t help but marvel at how fortunate it was that Yu Zhi had joined the production.
Thinking of this, he gave Ji Xingyu another call, praising Yu Zhi again and again, and thanking Ji Xingyu over and over.
Ji Xingyu, who had already been angered to the point of a headache by Yu Zhi: “……”
He truly didn’t want to hear it.
Watching Ji Xingyu hang up the phone with a dark expression, Xue Yan cautiously asked, “Old Ji… are you okay?”
For some reason, it felt like Ji Xingyu’s temper had been getting worse lately.
In the past, although Ji Xingyu often wore a cold expression, he hadn’t been like this; suppressing his anger, like a vicious dragon coiling back its fury, waiting for the moment to erupt.
He had clearly gotten the little substitute he wanted, so why was he becoming more and more irritable instead?
He couldn’t figure it out.
Ji Xingyu forced himself to say, “I’m fine.”
“Sorry for always dragging you out to drink. Your fiancée is probably getting annoyed with me. You better head home early.”
Xue Yan waved a hand, his tone tinged with sourness. “No way. She’s your die-hard fan, she’d only complain that I didn’t bring her along.”
Ji Xingyu tugged at the corner of his lips, managing something that barely counted as a smile.
After exchanging a few words, he headed straight home.
He wanted to see for himself just how capable that person really was.
The call connected. “Hello, Director Zhang. About what you mentioned last time, I agree.”
………………
On set, Yu Zhi felt a trace of confusion. Why hadn’t Ji Xingyu been video calling him lately? Had something happened? Or was he angry?
That didn’t seem likely. Based on his earlier assessment, Ji Xingyu wasn’t the type to avoid someone just because he was upset.
Unable to make sense of it for the moment, Yu Zhi was just about to ask for a day off to go back when Director Zhang, brimming with excitement, announced to the entire crew, “Tomorrow, a senior will be coming to our set for a guest appearance. The schedule will be adjusted. Everyone, make sure you perform well.”
“Who is it, Director Zhang?”
“You’ll find out when the time comes.”
Director Zhang himself was already a big name; he could hold his ground with any well-known actor. Anyone he would personally go out of his way to announce was definitely no ordinary figure.
Everyone else was busy guessing. Only Yu Zhi had a sudden flash of realization, as if something clicked in his mind.
Sure enough, the very next day, he saw that familiar figure on set.
The man sat on the lounge sofa, removed his mask, revealing a sharp, strikingly beautiful face. His gaze swept casually over everyone present, not lingering on Yu Zhi for even a moment, as if the person who had deliberately come here wasn’t him at all.
“Teacher Ji will be filming with us for a while. Everyone, get acquainted and don’t drop the ball,” Director Zhang said, then waved to Yu Zhi. “Xiao Yu, since you and Teacher Ji are friends, why don’t you show him around? We won’t be shooting your scenes today.”
With that one sentence, he effectively made Yu Zhi and Ji Xingyu’s friendship public knowledge. Immediately, some people couldn’t help thinking, so Yu Zhi was actually Ji Xingyu’s friend. No wonder his acting was so good; he must have received guidance from the Film Emperor Ji, right?
A wave of sour envy rose in quite a few hearts. But no matter how bitter they felt, it didn’t earn them even a glance from those two.
Yu Zhi looked down at the costume he had just put on and couldn’t help frowning. “You’ve delayed my filming schedule.”
Ji Xingyu hadn’t expected him to speak like that at a time like this. After ignoring him for so long, wasn’t he worried? Didn’t he care? Wasn’t he at least a little afraid?
No, thinking back on what this person had said before, he really wasn’t afraid.
Ji Xingyu’s lips curved slightly, the hint of a smile that was half amusement, half mockery.
“I’ve heard your acting is quite good. Director Zhang has praised you several times in front of me.”
At that, Yu Zhi glanced at him, a single look that seemed to see straight through everything.
“Naturally, I’m not as good as Teacher Ji. Nor am I comparable to your white moonlight.”
Ji Xingyu pressed his lips together, teeth clenched, barely restraining himself from arguing with him right there in public.
He shot Yu Zhi a sidelong glance and sneered, “Then I’ll have to see for myself just how good this unmatched under heaven acting Director Zhang keeps bragging about really is.”
………………
The next day, it was Yu Zhi’s turn to film his scenes.
As a guest performer, Ji Xingyu had very few scenes. He also needed time to go over the script, so there was no rush to film his parts. The scenes originally scheduled for Yu Zhi the previous day had been moved to today.
The film Director Zhang was shooting was called 《Evolution.》
It sounded like a biological sci-fi film, but in reality, it was a bio-intelligence science fiction story.
The year was 3020—the era of superintelligence.
Countless jobs had been replaced by robots. The energy crisis had grown severe, and even the most advanced, energy-efficient robots consumed only one-tenth of the energy required by humans each day.
To reduce energy consumption, human births declined more and more. Robots replaced humans as the primary workforce of the world. They could do everything humans could and everything humans couldn’t.
The development of robotic cognition accelerated at an astonishing pace. Some had even managed to transplant the contents of a human brain into a robot, allowing the dead to be revived and reborn. Through this method, humanity sought to achieve immortality.
The terrifying part was that they succeeded.
The birth of regenerated humans marked humanity’s entry into the age of immortality, and also heralded its extinction.
The former referred to the brain. The latter, the body.
Regenerated humans possessed the same civil rights. Gradually, they became the leaders among ordinary robots, securing a place within the structure of human governance.
Under their leadership, the idea of destroy humanity, create regenerated humans spread across nations, and gained the fervent support of countless people.
A minority of humans opposed this ideology and voiced their dissent.
The leading regenerated human was named Yi An. When he had still been human, he was a super genius. It was he who had led the research and development of the regenerated human experiment and brought it to success.
And this was the role played by Yu Zhi.
The protagonist of the film.
Today’s scene was one where Yi An, as the representative of the regenerated humans, addressed the general public through the media; promoting the advantages and benefits of becoming a regenerated human, explaining the contributions they could make to the world, and persuading people to join their ranks.
The man stood upright, carrying an air of rigid formality. From the way he walked to the sofa and sat down, one could already discern the stiff, mechanical quality of his body.
“Since ancient times, humanity has been evolving, from apes to proto-humans, and then to modern humans. After that, progress stagnated for thousands of years. Now that humanity can evolve once more, it is both a gift from heaven and the result of our collective efforts. We should not reject it. We should accept it with composure.”
“From past to present, countless people have pursued immortality. And now, it is no longer a dream. As long as we exchange our bodies, we can obtain the eternal life we have long desired. Just one step away, the dream lies on the other shore.”
The man spoke at an even, unhurried pace, without a single stumble. After finishing the prepared speech, he moved on to casual conversation, answering questions. His words were witty, and from time to time, he could even chat and laugh freely with the host.
And yet, for some reason, despite it being the same voice and tone, Ji Xingyu could still hear within it a coldness that belonged to machinery.
That was not a voice a human could have.
That was a machine.
No, that was a monster.
A monster with human memories and a mechanical heart!
Ji Xingyu stared fixedly at the man still filming, his gaze burning. He didn’t even notice the water spilling from his hand.
At this very moment, there was only that man in front of him in his eyes, that monster wearing human skin.
That was Yu Zhi, and yet, not Yu Zhi.
Only now did Ji Xingyu finally understand why Director Zhang had been so unable to contain his excitement on the phone, praising someone so highly. There truly were people who, in every casual word, in every glance and subtle expression, were acting.
Bang—!
Bang—!
That was the sound of his heartbeat.
There was no white moonlight, no substitute, only this man named Yu Zhi.
………………
After filming wrapped that evening, Ji Xingyu didn’t return to his own room. Instead, he knocked on Yu Zhi’s door.
Seeing it was him, Yu Zhi raised an eyebrow before letting him in, asking leisurely, “What is it?”
Ji Xingyu’s gaze carried both interest and a rare softness. “Not welcome?”
He stepped closer to Yu Zhi. At such close distance, he could smell the faint scent of body wash on him. The loose sleepwear revealed a stretch of pale chest, droplets of water scattered across the skin; like dew resting on petals at dawn, inviting someone to pluck them.
“Yu Zhi, don’t forget you signed a contract,” he said meaningfully.
Yu Zhi looked into his eyes and was immediately steeped in that pool of desire, understanding Ji Xingyu’s intent at once.
He found it a little amusing and a little reassuring. Amusing, because this man had actually developed such thoughts toward him. Reassuring, because the mission seemed to be making progress.
After all, being able to feel desire for someone other than one’s white moonlight was a kind of progress, wasn’t it?
Now that he understood the purpose of the visit, Yu Zhi showed no nervousness. Instead, he calmly sat down right in front of Ji Xingyu, glanced at him, and slowly uttered a sentence that sounded both familiar and irritating to Ji Xingyu:
“Surely not, Mr. Ji. I thought you wouldn’t betray your white moonlight.”
The long-suppressed irritation surged and churned in Ji Xingyu’s chest, as if about to explode, partly because of the white moonlight in his heart, and partly because of Yu Zhi.
White moonlight, white moonlight, white my damn moonlight!
Boom—!
A thunderous crash split the sky. Lightning flashed across him, making Ji Xingyu’s already dark expression look even more ominous.
His vision went black for a moment. A sharp pain surged through his head, and he staggered forward, crashing into a broad chest. In his daze, he vaguely heard the man’s voice, tinged with a hint of tension.
====================
