Chapter 037
Upon arriving at the hotel, Ji Tingqian did not return to his own room but instead entered Ming Huai’s. Both Tang Lili and Yu Bin wore expressions of hesitation, wanting to speak yet holding back. However, upon meeting Ji Tingqian’s darkened gaze, neither dared to say a word; they could only watch silently as Ji Tingqian dragged Ming Huai into the room.
Once inside, Ming Huai and Ji Tingqian sat side by side on the sofa. From the moment he entered, Ji Tingqian had remained silent, still gripping Ming Huai’s hand, yet his eyes were not fixed on him. Head bowed, he seemed lost in thought, unaware of what occupied his mind.
Ming Huai quietly observed the person beside him. In his rush to return, he had only partially removed his stage makeup; his face still felt sticky and somewhat uncomfortable, yet with Ji Tingqian so close, he dared not move recklessly.
The prolonged silence made Ming Huai’s heart pound. He no longer cared about maintaining the atmosphere; given the situation, Ji Tingqian was clearly incapable of saying anything that would satisfy him. Gently tugging his hand free, he murmured, “Brother Ji, let me go wash my face first.”
It turned out that Ji Tingqian had indeed been keeping a close watch on Ming Huai’s movements. Upon hearing this, he immediately released his grip and said in a low, steady voice, “Go ahead.”
Once again, any trace of emotion became indistinguishable. Ming Huai pressed his lips together lightly, then rose and walked toward the bathroom. He casually cleansed his face with facial wash; as the cool water touched his skin, Ming Huai suddenly felt a sharp jolt of alertness. Lifting his head to gaze at his reflection in the mirror, he watched droplets of water trickle slowly down the contours of his face.
After a long while, a soft sigh echoed through the empty bathroom.
When Ming Huai emerged from the bathroom, Ji Tingqian had already composed himself, erasing all traces of his earlier anxiety. His expression returned to its usual calm detachment, as though everything that had just transpired had merely been Ming Huai’s illusion.
All of this had been beyond Ming Huai’s expectations. Ji Tingqian was exactly that kind of person; once reason returned, both his emotions and expressions became utterly flawless, like a living, breathing robot devoid of feeling.
Ming Huai knew there was no way to change such a nature. He took a deep breath, preparing to speak, but Ji Tingqian beat him to it.
“Ming Huai.”
Ji Tingqian’s tone carried a hint of hesitation. After a moment, he pulled something from his pocket. Ming Huai was standing too far away, and the object was too small for him to make out immediately; he cast a puzzled glance toward Ji Tingqian.
Ming Huai walked toward Ji Tingqian, who at that moment rose from the sofa. Only when they drew slightly closer did Ming Huai realize what it was; his eyes widened in astonishment. Clearly, he had never expected that the prayer beads he’d been searching for all day would end up in Ji Tingqian’s hand—what an incredible coincidence.
Ming Huai was still immersed in shock when Ji Tingqian approached him, the prayer beads resting quietly in his palm. “Is this yours?” Ji Tingqian asked.
Ming Huai nodded mutely. Disregarding all etiquette, he swiftly snatched the beads from Ji Tingqian’s hand and immediately tucked them into his pocket. Although he knew Ji Tingqian couldn’t possibly infer too much from a single bracelet, he still felt as though every bush and tree were an enemy soldier.
“Thank you, Brother Ji,” Ming Huai said, talking more the nervier he became. He added by way of explanation, “This bracelet is quite important to me. I searched for it all day today and thought I’d never find it again.”
“Mm,” Ji Tingqian nodded. “I saw it last night at the elevator entrance. I guessed it must be yours.”
As soon as Ji Tingqian finished speaking, the room fell into a brief silence. After a moment, it was Ji Tingqian who broke it. “Get some rest. If you feel unwell anywhere, call me or find my assistant.”
Ming Huai watched him, his usual playful grin completely vanished. He wanted to see if the other man would simply refuse to discuss what had happened tonight.
Sure enough, the next second, Ji Tingqian spoke again. “It’s late. I’m heading back first.”
Ji Tingqian moved to walk past Ming Huai toward the exit, but Ming Huai seemed determined to oppose him. Wherever Ji Tingqian stepped, Ming Huai shifted in the same direction. Ming Huai’s behavior was truly childish, yet it was precisely this kind of immaturity that left people utterly helpless.
Ji Tingqian came to a halt, standing still as he looked down at Ming Huai, waiting to see what he was up to.
“Don’t you have anything else to say to me?” Ming Huai gritted out. Ji Tingqian’s personality was truly enough to drive anyone mad. In a moment of irrationality, Ming Huai even thought that he should have let the wire snap completely back then, letting himself fall straight down; perhaps then, Ji Tingqian wouldn’t be able to maintain that expression.
Ji Tingqian parted his lips, and just as Ming Huai expected him to finally say something meaningful, he only heard two words: “Nothing.”
The fist at his side tightened involuntarily. Ming Huai’s gaze was earnest yet tinged with obsession as he questioned without mercy, “You were worried about me just now.”
Ji Tingqian turned his head to the side.
Ming Huai continued, “After the accident, you held me in your arms.”
The indifferent expression on Ji Tingqian’s face began to crack.
As if he hadn’t noticed—or perhaps because he wanted precisely to see that look on Ji Tingqian’s face—Ming Huai decided this time to leave him no room for evasion. “In the car, you gripped my hand, held it so tightly. Even after we returned, you still hadn’t let go. Your hand was so cold. It was summer; why was your hand so icy?”
Ming Huai’s sharp questioning forced Ji Tingqian’s indifferent expression to retreat again and again. His brows furrowed slightly, his lips pressed into a straight line, his demeanor deep with a hint of regret, likely pondering how to refute Ming Huai’s words, which were entirely true.
But this was far from enough. Ming Huai refused to let it go, insisting on an explanation. “I guess you were startled. Why were you so worried about me?” His words were direct, his expression open and honest; if one couldn’t hear the context of their conversation, they might have thought Ming Huai was pondering some profound philosophical question.
“Ji Tingqian, I’m wondering—do you like me?” Ming Huai spoke each word deliberately, then followed it with a statement of certainty. At this moment, he could only be described as relentless. “I don’t think this is a guess anymore. It’s a fact.”
Every subsequent word wrapped around Ji Tingqian’s heart like thick, tightening vines. Ming Huai said, “Ji Tingqian, your heart has moved.”
“It hasn’t!” Ji Tingqian shouted, his face flushed with obvious anger. He resembled a lion provoked, radiating an aura of majesty that brooked no challenge. His long-held beliefs simply would not allow anyone to overturn them.
Ming Huai’s body trembled almost imperceptibly; the fire in his eyes flickered, then slowly dimmed as if on the verge of extinction. Gazing at Ji Tingqian, his eyelashes quivered slightly as he desperately tried to conceal some overwhelming emotion. After a long pause, he exhaled softly, turned away, and no longer blocked Ji Tingqian’s path. “Brother Ji,” he whispered, “it’s too late now. Goodnight.”
Just like that, he brushed everything aside with such casual indifference. Ming Huai’s tone was so flat it made one doubt whether the words just spoken had truly come from him, or whether the person who had been so aggressively confrontational moments before was even the same man.
Only after hearing the loud slam of the door closing did Ming Huai finally lift his head. He raised his left hand and rubbed his eyes heavily, staring in the direction where Ji Tingqian had departed, his body beginning to tremble uncontrollably.
The next day, Ming Huai did not go to the film set.
The night before, no one knew what Ming Huai had done to himself, but he developed a high fever. He only felt slightly unwell and didn’t realize he was running a temperature, so he failed to take medicine in time. By morning, his fever had spiked dangerously high; he was already delirious when Tang Lili and Yu Fanglan found him and noticed something was wrong.
Ming Huai had never been particularly robust since childhood. As a boy, he suffered from frequent minor illnesses. Though the frequency decreased as he grew older, whenever he did fall ill, it struck with fierce intensity.
Just this simple fever kept Ming Huai bedridden for a full week before he finally recovered completely.
The cause of the incident had been clarified: the fault lay with the props department. Fu Hairong showed no mercy in disciplining those responsible; several props masters were immediately dismissed. The production partner hastily sent over replacements to cover the gap these past few days.
In recent days, the relationship between Ji Tingqian and Ming Huai had plummeted to freezing point, yet Ji Tingqian still visited Ming Huai several times. Sick and unwell, Ming Huai felt both anger and grievance upon seeing Ji Tingqian; he truly didn’t want to speak a single word to him. Thus, each time Ji Tingqian came to visit, Ming Huai left him ignored. Well, not completely ignored—just far less warm and engaged than before.
Xu Zhuoyan somehow learned about Ming Huai’s illness and even called to offer his condolences. Ming Huai, lacking both the mood and energy for idle chatter, grew weary after just a few exchanges. Just as he was about to hang up, Xu Zhuoyan stopped him.
“What is it?” Ming Huai buried his face in the pillow, his other hand still connected to an IV drip, his eyelids fluttering as if he might fall asleep any second.
“I wanted to ask how things are progressing between you and Tingqian,” Xu Zhuoyan asked.
Ming Huai slumped even further, the corners of his mouth turned downward as he said, “Something happened in between. It’s mostly my fault; I was too impatient, pushed too hard. Now my brother is hiding from me.”
“What happened?” Xu Zhuoyan asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
Ming Huai briefly explained the situation. After listening, Xu Zhuoyan fell silent for two seconds. The development was much as he had expected; with Ji Tingqian’s reserved nature, getting him to admit he had fallen for someone was harder than climbing to the heavens.
Ji Tingqian had never rejected him before. The sheer magnitude of this change felt unbearable to Ming Huai. He decided to give Ji Tingqian some space for a few days to soothe the grievance in his heart. “It’ll be fine in a few days. I’m just angry right now.”
Ming Huai felt that he truly possessed an exceptionally good temper.
“Ming Huai, I think you still need to keep Tingqian waiting,” Xu Zhuoyan said hesitantly. Although he was hardly in a better position himself, it was still preferable to Ming Huai’s state of being too close to see clearly. “In this matter, I believe I can lend a hand.”
“You’ll help? How could you possibly help?” Ming Huai said without any hope.