Twenty days later, ‘The Moon by the Quiet River’ officially wrapped.
As the second male lead, Xia Yan had scenes with both the male and female leads that lasted until the final day.
During the group photo, the crew presented him with a bouquet for the occasion. Hugging it in his arms, he smiled brightly, his face still covered in gray makeup from the shoot, flashing a set of pearly white teeth.
This was the first project he’d truly participated in from beginning to end.
In his previous projects, his reputation was solid, but as a supporting character with minimal screen time, he never had much presence.
This time, he’d been on set for a full two months. Despite the grueling schedule that left him ten pounds lighter and constantly covered in new bruises before the old ones healed, he found genuine enjoyment in his work.
For the first time since entering the entertainment industry, he realized that beyond the stage, there were other things that intrigued him.
Especially with the high praise he received from both the director and the scriptwriter.
The director even extended an olive branch, offering him a role in his next project.
Unable to hide his excitement, Xia Yan spotted Xu Cong in the crowd and shook the bouquet in his direction.
Standing a short distance away, Xu Cong smiled back at him.
Just as he’d promised, Xu Cong made time for the wrap party, showing up to celebrate with Xia Yan’s crew. Now that he was an investor, his presence was entirely justified.
This time, Xu Cong even provided the venue for the wrap party.
As the latest addition to the investment team, he turned out to be the most generous of them all. He rented a countryside estate with a villa, offering the crew a spacious venue for celebration. The clubhouse, developed by a friend of his, boasted top-notch security, ensuring no paparazzi could sneak in.
Preparations for the party began over a week in advance. The chefs for the banquet were from a team Xu Cong frequently employed. Vibrant roses adorned the silver serving trays, the indoor pool maintained a perfect temperature, and the entertainment options were endless. Guests could watch movies, play games, drink, or even try indoor rock climbing or golf.
For those who still found themselves bored, the estate offered horseback riding and archery as well.
Xia Yan picked up a bottle of wine from the table and examined the label carefully. Though he was well aware of Xu Cong’s spendthrift tendencies, he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.
He waved the bottle in Xu Cong’s direction.
“Was this really necessary? So extravagant,” he said softly. “Did you move half your wine cellar here?”
He couldn’t shake the suspicion that Xu Cong’s investment in the production wasn’t even as costly as this wrap-up party.
Xu Cong chuckled. “It’s not that exaggerated, just a small portion. If it runs out, I’ll restock.”
The crowd had long since gotten into the party spirit. Not far from where Xia Yan and Xu Cong stood, a few actors were taking turns diving into the pool, drawing loud laughter from the onlookers.
Because of the swimming, most people looked somewhat disheveled. With the villa’s warmth, everyone was wearing minimal clothing, making the atmosphere flirtatiously charged.
Xia Yan couldn’t help but think that if a paparazzo somehow sneaked in, they could easily snap a photo reminiscent of “a decadent feast,” potentially ruining numerous reputations and careers.
But then again, he and Xu Cong weren’t much better off.
Both of them were only wearing thin shirts. Having just been near the pool themselves, their clothes were half-soaked. Xu Cong’s collar was wide open, his tie casually draped over his shoulder, and the faint smell of alcohol lingered in his breath, making him look like a carefree playboy who spent the night indulging.
Xu Cong continued pouring wine into his glass. When he noticed Xia Yan glancing over, he smiled slightly and handed the glass to him.
“Want some?”
Xia Yan vaguely sensed that Xu Cong might have had a bit too much to drink. Still, considering it was a wrap-up party and Xu Cong was the host, he decided not to say anything. After all, there was no work scheduled for the next day.
He took the glass.
But just as he took a sip, someone accidentally bumped into him from behind, spilling the rest of the wine all over him. The deep ruby liquid ran down Xia Yan’s chin, over his Adam’s apple and collarbone, staining his white shirt red.
“Ugh, what a mess,” Xia Yan chuckled lightly, showing no anger. “This shirt is ruined.”
Some wine lingered at the corner of his lips. He stuck out his tongue and licked it, feeling a little sorry to have wasted such a fine drink.
“You must have spare clothes, right? Lend me something later,” he said to Xu Cong, only to find Xu Cong staring at him.
Xia Yan was leaning against the table. His shirt, already thin, clung to him after being soaked in wine, leaving little to the imagination.
His collarbones were long and defined, with a deep hollow at the base of his neck. A trace of wine lingered there, trembling precariously but refusing to spill.
Further down, a corner of Xia Yan’s shirt had folded up, revealing a glimpse of his slim waist. His abdomen was tight, his skin so pale it was almost dazzling. There was a faint scar there, not yet fully healed—a remnant of an on-set injury. Its pale red color resembled the trace of lipstick left by a lover.
Xu Cong’s gaze lingered on the scar for a long moment before he raised his eyes to meet Xia Yan’s.
The music around them had reached a deafening level.
People were laughing, chatting, and drinking, and no one was paying attention to this corner.
Xu Cong leaned closer. Xia Yan, still oblivious, looked up at him with an innocent expression. Xu Cong bent down, his fingers brushing over Xia Yan’s collarbone to collect the droplet of wine.
He brought his finger to Xia Yan’s lips, smearing the wine across them.
Soft and full, Xia Yan’s lips were a deep red, slightly parted.
The scent of the wine unfolded like layers of rose petals—sweet cherries and ripe raspberries—all lingering on Xia Yan’s lips.
“This is a 2009 La Tâche,” Xu Cong murmured into Xia Yan’s ear, his breath brushing against it. “It’s a waste not to savor it.”
Xia Yan’s heart skipped a beat.
As Xu Cong spoke, his lips grazed Xia Yan’s ear.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Xia Yan felt a sudden heat surging through his body, burning from his ears to his fingertips, leaving them trembling slightly.
“Stop it. There’s plenty left,” Xia Yan said, shoving Xu Cong away, though his eyes seemed to avoid Xu Cong’s gaze. “If it comes to that, I’ll just buy you a new bottle.”
Xu Cong laughed, unbothered by being pushed aside.
“You’re right.”
He poured another glass for Xia Yan. Xia Yan hesitated before taking it but downed it all in one gulp, too distracted to savor it.
“I need to go. The director was just looking for me,” he said, eager to escape. He was still riding the high of the wrap-up celebration, and not having seen Xu Cong for days, he’d forgotten how dangerous it felt to be alone with him. Grasping at an excuse, he added, “I’ll come find you later.”
Without waiting for Xu Cong’s response or sparing him another glance, Xia Yan slipped away like a fish, vanishing into the lively crowd.
Xu Cong didn’t try to stop him.
He watched as Xia Yan disappeared, seemingly fleeing. Then, lowering his gaze, he picked up Xia Yan’s discarded glass and drank the last sip from where Xia Yan’s lips had touched.
The rich aroma spread across his tongue.
The wine, thick and inviting, was a sacred temptation to indulge.
Xu Cong set the glass aside, weaving through the crowd at a leisurely pace until he reached the staircase. He climbed it step by step, eventually arriving on the third floor.
This was a restricted area, so unlike the revelry downstairs, it was eerily quiet. Xu Cong pushed open a door and chose the innermost study.
From the window, he could overlook the courtyard. Xia Yan was nowhere to be seen, even though the director and screenwriter were chatting together, clearly without him.
Xu Cong lit a cigarette.
After finishing it, he slowly took a small transparent bag from his pocket, which contained several white pills.
Without so much as a glance, he swallowed them all.
He was approaching his heat period.
Alphas could often sense the arrival of this annual torment in advance.
Various medications had been developed to ease the pain of alphas during this time or even delay the onset of the heat period.
However, for every medication that suppressed the period, there was another that could bring it forward, with significant side effects, often doubling the suffering during the phase.
This brutal punishment was something few alphas could endure.
But Xu Cong bit down on the medicine and even thought to himself that the drug had a faint bitterness and sourness to it, like an unpleasant omen.
He quietly waited for the effects of the pill to take hold, his cold face reflected in the window like frost, his beautiful phoenix eyes as cold as inorganic jewels.
He knew he was about to face a torment.
Due to immune system issues caused by pheromones in his youth, his heat period was always more severe than other alphas, and Xia Yan knew this.
At the same time, Xia Yan also knew that for alphas, the greatest comfort during the heat period was the omega. The only antidote for alphas, the only light that could soothe them in the depths of hell.
The higher the compatibility, the greater the comfort an alpha would receive.
Once, Xia Yan had jokingly told him that for an S-level alpha like him, finding an omega that was a perfect match would be like finding a needle in a haystack, suggesting he should be ready for a life of loneliness.
But now.
The omega destined for him, his perfect match, had appeared.
Xu Cong looked at the crowd below, the flowers in the courtyard still vibrant even in winter. The wrap party after the shoot had become a symbol of luxury and revelry.
But this couldn’t be a wrap party, Xu Cong thought.
It was clearly a banquet set up to catch Xia Yan.
Including himself, he was nothing but bait to lure Xia Yan, packaged in golden brilliance, pretending to be a beautiful pearl.
If he and Xia Yan were destined to end in a destructive way, why not make it grand, like fireworks, burning so that Xia Yan would remember forever.
1
Author’s note:
Xu Cong — a man who always follows through, no hesitation when it comes to destructive outcomes.
