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Chapter 31 – Possessiveness
“Next, number 22.”
When he heard his number, Jiang Liusui stood.
Across the room, Xie Chen shot him a glance. Jiang Liusui ignored and walked straight into the audition room.
Inside, five people were seated—four behind a long table, and a female actor helping with the readings nearby. Jiang Liusui’s appearance caught the eye of the screenwriter on the far right. She and the assistant director beside her exchanged a quiet, knowing glance, both unconsciously showing some anticipation.
Sitting in the center was Director Pei Wen. He was in his early thirties, yet he already had several fine wrinkles on his forehead—a sign of frequent overthinking, or perhaps a quick temper that simmered beneath the surface.
Pei Wen had ordinary features—the kind that would be hard to notice in a crowd. Compared with the well-dressed Huang Zhicheng, he even seemed a bit unkempt. But his hawk-like eyes were exceptionally sharp.
“Number 22, Jiang Liusui.” Pei Wen glanced at his materials and spoke abruptly, “Qin Yi recommended you to me.”
Even when directors had private connections with auditionees, it was rarely acknowledged openly. Pei Wen truly wasn’t the type of director who followed conventions. Jiang Liusui, unsure of the meaning behind the words, kept his reply simple: “Yes, Director Pei.”
“Qin Yi has always had good judgment.”
Pei Wen spoke meaningfully. Jiang Liusui understood the unspoken implication: perform well, don’t let Qin Yi misjudge you.
The assistant spoke at the right moment: “We’ll start with scene five.”
Over the past few days, he had carefully studied the script countless times—scene five flashed through his mind instantly. Jiang Liusui had a peculiar trait—the closer he got to performance time, the more relaxed he became. The tiniest hint of nervousness only heightened his excitement.
The female actor helping with the readings stepped forward, and Jiang Liusui sank into the lone chair at the center of the room, fully composed and ready.
The first half of ⟪Eternal Bell⟫ unfolds from the perspective of the female lead, Ming Zhao. Scene five depicts Ming Zhao’s first encounter with Ling beneath the pear blossom tree drenched in moonlight, where she first met the ghostly youth.
“What are you staring at?” Jiang Liusui sat on the chair. Although the female actor stood before him, he carried a haughty expression, somehow making it feel as if he were looking down on her.
It was as if he were perched atop a high pear blossom tree, watching the woman below in her elegant attire with quiet interest.
“…Who are you?!” Ming Zhao had never seen a boy so breathtakingly beautiful. Moreover, he appeared in the inner courtyard of the royal mansion in the dead of night, which was completely unreasonable. Ming Zhao’s heart was fearful, and her face stern as she said, “Breaking into the royal mansion at night, do you realize the severity of your crime?”
Instead of showing fear, Ling leisurely mimicked her speech: “And who are you?”
Ming Zhao slightly furrowed her brows, and spoke word by word: “I am the legitimate wife[mfn]嫡妻 (dí qī) – historically, the main wife of a noble or heir, implying status and legitimacy.[/mfn] of the Crown Prince.”
“So you’re the newlywed wife of the eldest son,” Ling spoke lightly. His casual tone toward the Crown Prince was as if he were speaking to any ordinary young man.
Seeing his disrespectful manner, Ming Zhao grew more convinced of his malicious intent. Faint, crisp bell sounds seemed to emanate from him.
Squinting, she noticed that his fingertips were still slick with fresh blood. Beneath the pear tree, thick pools of crimson stained the ground, and drops trickled from the branches above. The darkness made it hard to see clearly, but under the pale moonlight, she could just make out more than one body suspended among the blossoms…
The boy beside her did not appear human. He was something else entirely—a creature gliding through the night.
Ming Zhao’s face drained of color as she cried out, “An assassin—!”
Jiang Liusui rose from his solitary chair and quickly stepped in front of the actress. The actress was quite experienced—in an instant, she reined in her performance and fell silent,yet a deeper layer of fear emanated from her.
Her eyelids quivered ever so slightly, frozen by the sudden proximity of his stunning face, her eyes locked in place, unable to move.
Seeing her so terrified that her hair stood on end, Jiang Liusui burst into laughter, his expression one of pure delight.
His smile softened the unnatural aura entirely, transforming him in an instant into a seemingly innocent child. For a moment, the actress was drawn into the scene, feeling as though the boy’s eyes were dark and deep like a shadowy pool, and his elusive, ghostly demeanor made her heart race wildly.
Under the actress’s fearful and bewildered gaze, he reined in his laughter and said softly, “I hope you’ll forgive any offense I may have caused tonight, madam.”
“My name is Ling, and I am the old prince’s guard. Appearing here in the dead of night…” Jiang Liusui’s gaze shifted, indicating the empty space beside him where, according to the script, there should have been a corpse hanging from the pear blossom tree.
“…is to capture the assassin who has intruded into the Crown Prince’s residence.”
With that, the fifth scene came to an end.
“—That’s enough.” Pei Wen’s voice came from behind the long table, calm and unreadable. His eyes remained fixed on Jiang Liusui. “Go back and wait for our notice.”
Jiang Liusui bowed politely to everyone and then left the room.
After he departed, the screenwriter was the first to speak. “He performed very well! His image and temperament are a perfect fit. It’s rare to find a male actor with this kind of style. I originally thought it would be impossible to find the right person… When he suddenly stepped forward just now, I could swear he was Ling himself!”
The actress nodded in agreement. “Yes, I was even carried along by him.”
However, Pei Wen remarked indifferently, “His control isn’t natural enough, and his acting is too exaggerated.”
The screenwriter was taken aback, surprised that even this wasn’t enough to satisfy him.
“These are all minor issues that can be corrected,” the assistant director, who knew Pei Wen well, understood that he had already made up his mind and smiled. Innate talent is what matters most. Even if his performance isn’t flawless, he can breathe life into it with just his natural gift—something many others could never achieve, no matter how hard they tried.”
sou
The assistant director glanced at Jiang Liusui’s file again. “He hasn’t been in many productions, so it’s natural that he can’t meet your standards right away.”
Pei Wen let out a soft snort. “All the better—we can teach him properly.”
Stepping out of the audition room, Jiang Liusui was still somewhat dazed, unconsciously replaying the scene in his mind.
He hadn’t even caught a glimpse of the director’s expression before leaving, nor did he know exactly how well he had performed. His eyes unconsciously scanned the hallway, but Xie Chen was nowhere to be seen among the waiting crowd, probably off preparing elsewhere.
No matter the outcome, he had already given it his all. If Director Pei chose someone else, then it simply meant he wasn’t skilled enough.
With that thought, the frustration from his earlier confrontation with Xie Chen gradually melted away, leaving Jiang Liusui feeling lighter and more at ease.
After the audition, the driver took Jiang Liusui back home.
The apartment he lived in had been assigned by Gallery two years ago. Recently, his popularity among the company’s artists had been rising rapidly. Jiang Chuan had told him that, considering both safety and privacy—and recognizing his potential—the company was planning to move him into a new residence soon.
Jiang Liusui didn’t have any particular requirements for his residence, but the prospect of moving into a more spacious and secure home was still something to look forward to.
Once home, he slipped into his slippers and retrieved the matcha chocolate he had prepared ahead of time from the fridge.
He preferred sweet foods, so he had added extra milk and chocolate powder. The summer heat was intense, and Jiang Liusui greedily loaded his cup with a heap of ice cubes before taking a tentative sip.
So blissful…
These past few days, he had been on edge, constantly imagining the role of Ling. Now that the audition was over, he could finally relax completely. He drank most of his iced drink, kicked off his slippers, and flopped lazily onto the sofa.
It felt like finally surviving a grueling final exam—if he didn’t go all out tonight, it would be a waste. Jiang Liusui began contemplating whether to invite someone out or pull an all-nighter with Zhou Xun gaming…
Last time, Zhou Xun had complained that he was terrible at games, saying that playing with him felt like babysitting, and even Snowball’s little paws across the keyboard would yield better results. So Jiang Liusui decided to be deliberately annoying, keeping his voice soft in the voice chat and calling Zhou Xun “gege”, nearly making him vomit.
Ridiculous as it was, once the game ended, the teammate even added him as a friend, suggesting he should find a boyfriend with a better temper and claiming they could carry him to higher ranks.
Jiang Liusui couldn’t help but laugh to himself, letting that teammate get more and more worked up while he quietly enjoyed the moment in front of the computer.
Come to think of it, when he had called He Yujing “gege” before, He Yujing hadn’t reacted much.
But then again, with so many male fans—both straight and gay—he probably heard guys call him “gege” all the time.
Jiang Liusui thought of this as he casually refreshed his social feed. A few hours ago, He Yujing had shared a link to his new album.
『E: Go check it out.』
【Huang Zhicheng: Really enjoyed all the songs this time; worth listening to again and again! Full of spirit and talent! Yujing wrote them well! (rose) (rose)】
【Chi Lianxi: You’re acting strangely… used to go six months without a post, now you’re spreading your feathers like a peacock.】
Probably afraid He Yujing would snap at him, he copied and pasted Director Huang’s comment below, cheekily altering the address:
【Chi Lianxi: Full of spirit and talent! Jing’er wrote them well! (rose) (rose)】
【Wan: All seven tracks on the album are incredible. I’ve been looping them nonstop since release. It’s an honor to feature on one of them.】
【Xu Miao: Heavenly voice! Already picturing all my friends updating their KTV playlists!】
【Qin Yi: Sounds amazing. Filming on set right now, but everyone listens during breaks.】
Jiang Liusui thought for a moment and also left a comment below.
【Sui: So good, I like all of them.】
Seeing that He Yujing hadn’t replied to anyone else, he assumed his comment would go unnoticed. But when he refreshed the page again, two new messages appeared.
【E: I like that you like it too.】
【E: (laugh) (laugh) (laugh)】
I like… that you like it too?
Jiang Liusui twisted his brain for a moment before finally understanding what He Yujing meant, thinking to himself that the guy spoke like a walking riddle. Seeing this, Chi Lianxi remarked:
【Chi Lianxi: Hours have passed, and you stayed silent while eight hundred people left comments on your Moments. Yet once little brother speaks, you instantly rise from the dead to reply. Double standards, huh? Fine if you ignore me, but you’re not replying to Director Huang? Aren’t you going to reply to Linshu-jie either?】
Since Moments doesn’t show posts from people not added as friends, so Jiang Liusui wasn’t sure who Lin Shu was—guessing she might be He Yujing’s elder sister.
He Yujing replied to Huang Zhicheng: 【Thanks, Director Huang (rose) (rose)】
He Yujing replied to Chi Lianxi: 【Don’t make me curse at you.】
Jiang Liusui was watching and feeling amused when a video call suddenly came through.
This was already the second video call from He Yujing that he had received in the past few days. Thinking He Yujing probably wouldn’t mind, Jiang Liusui didn’t bother getting up to be polite—he stayed sprawled on the sofa and accepted the call.
The video connected-
“Hi,” Jiang Liusui greeted first.
He Yujing’s eyes lingered for a moment, noticing him lying there with a bright orange pillow tucked under his slender, pale arm for phone support. The slightly childish posture made him pause.
It was He Yujing’s first time seeing Jiang Liusui’s home. The living room wasn’t large, but it was warm and simple, with the ceiling and walls painted in clean, beige tones.
“Are you stuck[mfn]卡住了 (kǎ zhù le) – in tech/video context: frozen or lagging[/mfn]?” Jiang Liusui asked, puzzled by the lack of response.
“No,” He Yujing said. “Just looking at your place.”
He studied Jiang Liusui through the screen. Even though the video wasn’t high-definition, He Yujing could tell he was wearing makeup. It was usually hard to distinguish whether Jiang Liusui had makeup on or not, but years of work experience had made He Yujing sensitive to such details—and being familiar with Jiang Liusui also helped. Without makeup, Jiang Liusui looked younger than his actual age; with makeup, his eyes and brows appeared more strikingly beautiful.
“Did you just get back?” He Yujing asked.
“Yeah, I had an audition,” Jiang Liusui replied. Thinking about how nervous he had been during today’s audition, he couldn’t help but smile. “It was for a pretty ruthless character.”
“Really?” He Yujing laughed too. “Are you going to go around killing and burning people?”
Shen Jie, standing nearby and watching him on the call, felt her heart tighten as she heard his voice—it sounded almost like honey dripping. The way he was speaking to Jiang Liusui now seemed completely different from before.
It had been a while since the first recording of ⟪Fantasy Holiday⟫, and the editing was already more than halfway done. The production team was anxious not to upset He Yujing, that they had proactively sent over the rough cut without waiting for a reminder so they could review it for any parts that require editing or might harm the artists’ image.
In the past, situations like this would usually be discussed and decided internally within the studio—such a minor matter wouldn’t warrant He Yujing personally reviewing it. But when Shen Jie glanced through the rough cut yesterday, she almost couldn’t recover.
If the footage aired exactly as it was, it wouldn’t matter how hard they tried to brand it as a “healing vacation” variety show—they might as well categorize it as a dating show.
He Yujing’s schedule was packed from morning to night, with only a short break at noon. Shen Jie seized that chance to bring the rough cut of ⟪Fantasy Holiday⟫ to him.
She couldn’t directly ask the production team to cut out the inappropriate parts, so she had to confront He Yujing for an explanation. After all, his behavior on the show had truly shocked her: He Yujing was usually very mindful of personal boundaries. Even though his mischievous and willful nature sometimes led him to suddenly come up with ideas to mess with people, he had never teased anyone in this way before. His treatment of Jiang Liusui had far exceeded the scope of ordinary friendship.
Recalling that phone call from a few days earlier, Shen Jie finally put all the pieces together—she now knew exactly who had caught He Yujing’s heart.
After finishing the rough cut, the two exchanged a knowing look and began discussing how the footage should be edited.
The part where they walked the dog could be explained as playful banter. When the room assignment results came out and Qin Yi ended up sharing a room with Jiang Liusui, He Yujing’s sullen expression could be brushed off as exhaustion. But as for the beach barbecue that followed…
Shen Jie thought numbly that, at the very least, the part where he turned away with the ugliest expression had already been cut. He Yujing probably also knew how embarrassing his overreaction had been that day, so he didn’t object to removing it.
They reviewed the footage again and again. In the end, the only segment that still screamed trouble was the wake-up call.
“This entire section needs to be cut,” Shen Jie said, pointing at the projection screen. “The part where he enters the room to wake you up can stay. We’ll discuss with the production team and have them splice it directly to the scene where you two leave the room. Everything in between is too much.”
Even saying it out loud, Shen Jie couldn’t quite believe how shameless he’d been. “You really just dragged him onto the bed—on camera, during a variety show…”
He Yujing chuckled. “I was just messing around with him. I didn’t do anything.”
The vein on Shen Jie’s forehead twitched as she shot back, “And what exactly did you want to do??”
He Yujing glanced at her without answering. Shen Jie could tell he had no intention of discussing this topic with her. From that earlier video call alone, it was obvious the two of them hadn’t crossed any real line yet—Jiang Liusui didn’t even seem fully aware of He Yujing’s feelings.
He hadn’t even won him over, yet the possessiveness was already this intense…
As for what he might do later… she didn’t dare think about it.
“Do we have to cut the part where I asked him to help me pick out jewelry?” He Yujing asked after a pause, genuinely thinking that it was still relatively harmless.
“The domestic vibe is too strong,” Shen Jie said expressionlessly. It looks like an old married couple.”
He Yujing seemed pleased by this. “Isn’t that a good thing?””
Shen Jie: “……”
For the wake-up call segment, He Yujing wanted to keep everything. Shen Jie insisted on cutting the part on the bed, and solemnly told him that everything before that which could be reasonably kept had been preserved in full, and that when broadcast, it wouldn’t damage either of their images. But that scene—on the bed—absolutely had to be removed.
“Everywhere else, you can wave it off by saying you’re close,” Shen Jie coaxed patiently. “But this part is too eye-catching. You and Jiang Liusui don’t even have a clearly defined relationship yet—why make such a spectacle of it? Wouldn’t it be better to wait until things are settled, and then move forward step by step?”
When Jiang Liusui’s name came up, He Yujing fell silent. Just as Shen Jie thought she wouldn’t be able to stop him from acting recklessly today, He Yujing surprisingly changed his mind and nodded.
In the end, the entire bed scene was cut, while the jewelry-picking segment was left intact.
With the editing decisions settled, there was nothing else demanding immediate attention. Shen Jie had assumed he would finally take the chance to rest. Instead, He Yujing made a video call to Jiang Liusui.
Given how he’d been running nonstop these past few days, barely finding time to breathe, calling someone during a rare lull to chat seemed perfectly reasonable… Shen Jie numbly comforted herself with this thought, staring in a daze at the frozen image on the screen.
Jiang Liusui seemed quite well-behaved. He appeared to be four or five years younger than He Yujing.
He spoke softly too. Shen Jie couldn’t help wondering whether he might end up being bullied by He Yujing…
“…Oh, is that so? …That’s impressive.”
Shen Jie snapped back to reality and heard He Yujing responding with a laugh. She had never heard him speak to anyone in such a tone before—so indulgent it felt as if whatever the person on the other end said, he would agree to it unconditionally.
Truly, the sky must be about to rain red[mfn]天要下红雨了 (tiān yào xià hóng yǔ le) – said when something extremely unlikely or shocking happens[/mfn]— even the troublemaking demon king had a day when he learned how to be gentle.
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