A scene written on the page was one thing—actually acting it out yourself was another matter entirely.

Especially with Qiao Qi and Liang Yan currently stuck in such an awkward relationship.

And of course the director, never one to shy from stirring the pot, called out: “That young couple, come over here and run through the bed scene.”

The whole crew immediately started hollering; whatever mental preparation Qiao Qi had spent half the day building up collapsed instantly.

The hotel room was deliberately lit with suggestive lighting, the light falling from above onto Qiao Qi’s face, done up in vivid makeup, the powder on her cheeks masking her mortified flush.

But the telltale blood-red color at the tips of her ears was still plainly visible under the light.

Liang Yan had already changed into the bodyguard’s costume—not a stiff, formal suit, but a tactical-style black outfit, combat boots wrapping around lean, straight calves; a single glance made him look forceful and eye-catching.

Because his character was a criminal investigation captain, the stylist had insisted early on that Liang Yan cut his medium-length hair.

Now with a crisp, short cut, his fine features were fully exposed, his jaw appearing sharper, his contours even more distinct.

Twenty-six—exactly the age when a man was at his most vigorous and youthful.

His shoulders broad, his back straight—it seemed like he could hold up the sky simply by standing there.

But Liang Yan was still Liang Yan; no matter what role he played, so long as he himself didn’t feel like getting into character, he remained that same lazy, laid-back young master.

While everyone teased Qiao Qi, he didn’t help at all, arms crossed, leaning casually against the hotel room’s doorframe, a faint, half-there smile at the corner of his mouth.

His gaze fixed on Qiao Qi.

His eyes held nothing but blatant, direct intent—unlike the others’ simple teasing, his gaze carried the unmistakable implication of an adult man’s provocation toward a woman, along with meaning that couldn’t really be said aloud in polite company.

Qiao Qi felt that anyone with a pulse could sense the sheer indecency in Liang Yan’s eyes right now!

Pinned by his stare, she felt entirely uncomfortable, yet had to pretend not to notice.

Because she hadn’t yet figured out how to properly face this kind of behavior—practically courtship, from him.

Not until Lin Chu arrived, running a bit late.

Lin Chu played the ultimate antagonist in this production—on the surface, a close brother-in-arms who’d graduated alongside Liang Yan’s character, joined the police force together, been through life and death together, but in reality, scheming step by step, using their close bond to personally push Liang Yan’s character into the crosshairs of public suspicion.

In this scene, he wasn’t playing the villain—he was still just an officer, so his outfit was fairly official.

Fresh out of hair and makeup, he rolled up his sleeves, walked over to Qiao Qi, and handed her a small bottle of alcohol. “The props team gave this—low proof, drink a bit of this in a moment.”

His interruption, in effect, rescued Qiao Qi; she quietly let out a breath of relief, using Lin Chu’s tall frame to shield herself from Liang Yan’s line of sight.

Liang Yan himself frowned, quite displeased, and turned his head to look at Cheng Yueming nearby, whose eyes were entirely occupied by her own boyfriend.

Both couples, so why did other people’s relationships look so much less irritating?

He mulled it over on his own for a couple of minutes, unable to bear this unfair treatment any longer, straightened his footing, and sauntered lazily over to the director, urging, “Let’s start. I’m all warmed up.”

Qiao Qi: “…I still need—”

“Teacher Qiao should be about ready too, right?” Liang Yan cut her off with a single line, blinking innocently. “Let’s just do a run-through first? This one’s not even being filmed.”

Qiao Qi very much wanted this man’s career to wrap right then and there, but her high standards of professional ethics wouldn’t allow it.

So, in front of everyone, Qiao Qi smiled slightly. “Alright.”

…

During a run-through, the cameras weren’t rolling, but actors still had to bring the same level of commitment as an actual take.

So when the director called action with a clap of his hands as a makeshift clapperboard, Qiao Qi instantly transformed into a hopelessly drunk little nightclub princess.

Teetering in her heels, dressed rather scantily, her hands cold, she still had to convey the appearance of being flushed with alcohol-fueled heat—fanning her face and calling out “hot” over and over, swaying unsteadily, until her gaze finally landed on the cold-faced, upstanding Liang Yan standing by the bed.

She curved her lips into a smile, brimming with countless kinds of allure, teetered on her heels, and stretched out her arm to reach for Liang Yan’s hand.

Liang Yan was dressed warmly enough, and men generally ran hot anyway, so his palm was warm to the touch.

The moment Qiao Qi grabbed hold of it, she found herself reluctant to let go, unconsciously tightening her grip.

According to the script, Liang Yan was supposed to show no reaction whatsoever—but in a corner no one else could see, Qiao Qi distinctly felt Liang Yan’s long, warm fingers lightly scratch at her palm.

Like a cat coaxing for attention.

Qiao Qi paused, barely perceptibly, and the next second Liang Yan flipped his hand to grip her wrist instead.

He knelt on the bed with one knee, his tall figure caging Qiao Qi against the edge of the bed.

Qiao Qi’s eyes instinctively snapped open, sharp and utterly clear, no trace of drunkenness left.

In that instant, she knew this take was ruined.

But before she could say “sorry,” the man above her pressed down on her without hesitation.

A faint, cool, distinctive fragrance clung to him; the scent brushed past Qiao Qi’s face, and the tips of her ears flushed a deep red.

Her hands and feet, too, began going weak against her will.

Her vision blurred for an instant, and Liang Yan pressed against the crook of her shoulder.

A wave of scorching, burning breath hit her all at once.

Qiao Qi’s whole body went rigid, with only enough strength left to turn her head away.

Which meant, from the director’s angle, no one could see the fact that she’d broken character.

—The run-through continued.

Liang Yan’s expression remained cold, his brows composed, his whole presence radiating a “no trespassing” air.

His voice, too, was cold. “If Miss Zhou wants to fool around, I can certainly play along.”

A tone completely different from Liang Yan’s usual lazy drawl.

Almost instantly, Qiao Qi slipped back into character.

She let out a dismissive laugh, raised her free hand—not restrained by Liang Yan—and let her slender, soft fingertips trail slowly across his forehead, down the bridge of his nose, before finally, lids lifting, letting her fingertip rest lightly on his pressed-together lips.

She laughed, clear and bright, like an oriole perched on a spring branch.

“To Officer Xiang, what exactly counts as—” She suddenly hooked one leg up, wrapping it around Liang Yan’s waist, the two words rolling back and forth between her red lips, before finally, mixed with the sweet scent of alcohol, spilling out—”—fooling around?”

The moment the last word landed, it felt like a belated spring breeze washing over Liang Yan’s heart.

Liang Yan hovered above Qiao Qi, his eyes locked fiercely onto hers; Qiao Qi’s gaze remained sultry and heavy-lidded throughout.

Gradually, Qiao Qi noticed something shift in Liang Yan’s eyes.

No longer the cold indifference belonging to Officer Xiang, but now laced with an unmistakable trace of infatuation and dazed distraction.

Qiao Qi realized almost instantly that Liang Yan had gone off-script mentally.

Going off-script wasn’t the issue itself—breaking character in front of everyone, holding this exact pose and this exact look aimed at her, guaranteed that by the end of this scene, rumors of them being secretly involved would be sweeping through the entire cast and crew, inside and out!

So Qiao Qi decisively lifted her other leg, readying her knee to nudge Liang Yan’s side to snap him back to attention.

—Except this bastard Liang Yan, whether he’d suddenly caught himself or something else entirely, abruptly adjusted his position.

And so Qiao Qi’s carefully calculated knee ended up landing, by sheer terrible coincidence, right between Liang Yan’s… legs.

Both of them froze at almost exactly the same moment; the whole set seemed to pause, Qiao Qi’s eyes widening slightly, Liang Yan’s expression also failing to stay controlled.

Three to five seconds later, both sucked in a sharp breath at the same time—one arching up to scramble away, the other, without thinking, shoving the person on top of him outward.

—And their flailing hands collided with each other!

So, in full view of everyone, the two of them performed a perfect display of “tangled and impossible to untangle,” ultimately ending the run-through with the two of them pressed together, arms wrapped around each other.

The onlookers all burst into howling laughter, and the behind-the-scenes crew, naturally, didn’t miss capturing this glorious moment.

“What are you two doing! Don’t mix business with pleasure!”

“Exactly, exactly, using company funds for your romance, are you two!”

“Ooh la la, can’t watch, can’t watch this.”

…Qiao Qi felt she was the one who couldn’t watch this!

And couldn’t show her face in public ever again!

The moment she snapped back to herself, her face flushed red, she abruptly shoved off the man still holding onto her and stormed away without looking back.

Liang Yan collapsed onto the bed and, because the mattress was too soft, actually bounced up a little from the impact.

Somewhat dazed, he blinked his eyes open, and then heard someone beside him say: “Don’t just lie there, Officer, go chase after your wife!”

Honestly, everyone was just having a laugh, saying it offhand.

But the next second, they heard Liang Yan say “oh,” then watched him scramble up with his long arms and legs.

And run off.

The onlookers: “…”

Huh?

He actually ran?

Huh huh?

Chasing his wife?

Huh huh huh?

Had they missed something?

—Yes. They’d missed one hell of a scene.

Qiao Qi, the person at the center of said scene, no longer cared whether she’d miss any gossip. She burst out of the hotel room, running toward the restroom without looking back, only realizing halfway that she’d gone the wrong direction. As she turned to head back, she found Liang Yan walking right toward her.

Her whole body instantly went stiff; against her will, Qiao Qi found herself recalling exactly where her knee had accidentally landed, and in this dire moment, her thoughts even took a detour—seemed like it was actually pretty substantial in size?

The moment she thought it, her eyes couldn’t help but flick down toward that area; after glancing, she lifted her gaze and met Liang Yan’s not-quite-smiling eyes.

He seemed to have followed her gaze down for a moment, then curved his lips into an expression that was somewhere between shameless and utterly shameless, arching an eyebrow slightly.

He said nothing.

But at this point, silence spoke louder than words.

Everything unspoken, understood anyway.

Qiao Qi’s face went even redder; her first instinct was to step back. Liang Yan stepped forward, and she immediately raised a finger. “Stop!”

Liang Yan, unmoved, kept advancing.

Qiao Qi gritted her teeth. “Liang Yan!”

Liang Yan said, deliberately, “Hm? Can’t hear you, let me get closer.”

Qiao Qi: “…”

Fine, if he wanted to advance, she’d run!

Qiao Qi turned and walked off, but unfortunately, in heels, and with legs shorter than his, she’d barely taken two steps before Liang Yan had her pinned against the corner wall.

This spot was an emergency exit, the neighboring area just a stairwell—a quiet, out-of-the-way place, unbothered by anyone.

—At least, a good spot for a man like Liang Yan.

He could shamelessly pin Qiao Qi against the corner, boxing her in his arms, and, taking full advantage of his long limbs, effortlessly cut off every one of her escape routes.

He was so much taller that even in heels, Qiao Qi came up half a head shorter than him. So as he stood in front of her, looking down at her, lids lowered, and spoke, his warm breath swept over her face, covering every inch of it.

Qiao Qi had nowhere to hide.

Behind her was the wall.

The hotel, in an effort to display its luxury, had tiled even the walls.

Which, in winter, only made them colder still.

Already underdressed, Qiao Qi’s back touched the wall, and she instinctively arched her waist to bounce away from it.

She and Liang Yan had already been standing quite close; her sudden lurch pressed the two of them fully together.

Qiao Qi’s breath caught, and she braced to press back into the wall.

But Liang Yan stopped her.

He extended his arm around her waist, his large hand covering the small of her back, and with a gentle push, Qiao Qi found herself stumbling forward a step against her will.

Straight into Liang Yan’s arms.

Qiao Qi instinctively grabbed onto the front of his shirt, then, once steady, let go, a bit furious at herself.

She tilted her face up to scold him, only to smack straight into his chin.

Both of them hissed in pain at the same moment.

But even so, Liang Yan didn’t let go of the arms holding Qiao Qi—if anything, throwing caution to the wind, he wrapped both arms around her.

Held tight.

His chin, deliberately playing pitiful, nestled into the crook of her shoulder, his voice low and aggrieved. “That really hurt.”

“…” Qiao Qi choked slightly. “Don’t even start.”

Liang Yan, hitting where it hurt, said, “You already got the better of me—can’t you let me hold you a bit? Reciprocity, you know?”

Reciprocity my foot.

How could he make “taking advantage of each other” sound so refined?

So Qiao Qi, without a second thought, stomped on his foot.

Hard.

But Liang Yan gritted through it and held on.

Qiao Qi could clearly feel his hold around her tighten even more, though.

Which meant a bit of pain for her too.

But she couldn’t quite say where exactly it hurt.

The fighting was done.

She was getting a little tired now.

Qiao Qi stopped struggling, letting Liang Yan hold her, eyes lowered, half her face buried against his chest.

Perhaps because Liang Yan blocked the wind, she gradually didn’t feel quite so cold anymore.

After a good while, Liang Yan’s voice, still playing aggrieved, drifted to her ear.

“Zhou Jiaye said it’s been several hundred days, and I finally got to hold my girlfriend. He’s full of it—I only got to hold you today.”

Qiao Qi wasn’t sure what she was feeling right now, but she did laugh a little. “Don’t go claiming relationships that aren’t yours. Who says I’m your girlfriend.”

“You,” Liang Yan said.

Qiao Qi: “I’m not.”

“You are,” Liang Yan said. “It’s you.”

“I’m not,” Qiao Qi said. “I’m Li’ang’s girlfriend.”

“I am Li’ang. Li’ang is me,” Liang Yan said.

“You’re not.”

The two of them, like a pair of kindergarteners, carried on this pointless, childish, but neither-willing-to-stop conversation in this sunlit corner of a winter day.

Right at that moment, a familiar voice suddenly drifted from the stairwell.

“Got it, baby.”

“Mm, I know.”

“Busy these next couple days, once I’m done I can take you out.”

It was Lin Chu’s voice.

Qiao Qi’s body, which had just relaxed, went stiff again at Lin Chu’s sudden appearance. Liang Yan noticed and even teased her about it.

He deliberately lowered his voice. “What are you scared of? Scared of our secret affair getting caught?”

Qiao Qi reached out and pinched his waist.

Liang Yan let out an “ow,” deliberately bending forward.

Which only pulled Qiao Qi in even tighter.

Qiao Qi felt like she could barely breathe. She coughed. “Let go of me first.”

“No,” Liang Yan said. “Scream all you want—no one’s coming to save you.”

Qiao Qi: “…”

Such a drama queen.

At that moment, faint murmurs of “baby” continued to drift over from Lin Chu’s direction, and Liang Yan, thoroughly sour, said, “Look how other people do relationships.”

Qiao Qi refused to budge from her position. “I’m not in a relationship with you, let go!”

Liang Yan paused, and released her.

He frowned, dropping his usual playfulness. “Do you really mean that?”

Qiao Qi, finally able to breathe, glanced up at him once, then decided not to bother replying.

She turned to leave, when she suddenly heard Lin Chu say further, “Who? Cheng Yueming? The director’s daughter—I don’t know her that well.”

The moment those words landed, both Qiao Qi and Liang Yan froze.

Qiao Qi turned back, exchanged a glance with Liang Yan, and instinctively started to step toward the voice.

Liang Yan, quick on his feet, grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth.

Qiao Qi’s eyes went wide, muffled sounds escaping her.

Liang Yan said quietly, “Let’s listen first.”

Qiao Qi went quiet for a moment.

Liang Yan tentatively let go of her mouth.

The next second, he heard Qiao Qi say coldly, “Listen to what? Aren’t all you scumbags’ tricks the same anyway?”

With that, she shoved Liang Yan away and turned to leave.

“Go listen to it yourself! Scumbag!”

Liang Yan: “…”

Guess this part isn’t getting past him, huh?

Zhou Jiaye!

Get over here and die!

Author’s Note: Liang Yan, a man who loves acting cute and pitiful.

Dear reviewers!

It’s just acting!

Nothing inappropriate going on!

Please take a look!!