Ye Shanshan found himself staring at Gong Yue’s outstretched hand, his mind going blank with thoughts like “The Demon King’s hand is so beautiful” flashing through his head. Instinctively, he placed his own hand into Gong Yue’s.
—Then his injury was exposed.
Seeing Gong Yue’s brow furrow instantly, Ye Shanshan was stunned for a few seconds before his intelligence, distracted by Gong Yue’s attractiveness, kicked back in—he had meant to keep his hand hidden in his pocket!
Indeed, beauty is distracting.
Looking down at his bloodstained fingertips, Ye Shanshan blinked and said seriously, “Brother, what you’re seeing is just an illusion.”
“…”
With a face full of “I’m very obedient,” Ye Shanshan got into the car and explained proactively,
“It must have happened while I was on the phone with you. I was upset at the time, and when I calmed down, I noticed the bleeding. You have no idea, I was really startled myself.”
Gong Yue reached out to ruffle his hair, softening his tone, “Shanshan, give me your hand.”
Ye Shanshan smiled, his eyes curving, “Here, my hand.”
Gong Yue carefully examined the wounds on Ye Shanshan’s fingertips, then took out a first aid kit from the car’s storage and found a disinfectant wipe. He hesitated several times before Ye Shanshan pushed his fingers forward, “Brother, clean it.”
Ye Shanshan’s fingers were beautiful, like meticulously crafted artworks, but stained with blood, they were painful to look at.
“It might hurt a bit, but don’t be afraid, be good.” Gong Yue’s heart ached, he couldn’t imagine the state Ye Shanshan must have been in to scratch his fingertips raw.
Ye Shanshan nodded, his tone light, “It’s okay, my wounds heal really fast.” He thought for a moment, “For a wound of this severity, it should be scabbed over by now and not hurt much. In about thirteen hours, it won’t even be noticeable.”
“Thirteen hours?”
“Yeah, I used to experiment with different levels of wounds on myself to see how long they took to heal. I still remember—” Ye Shanshan suddenly stopped, because on his “Demon King Mood Index Chart,” Gong Yue’s mood had plummeted into the negatives.
Wait, what just happened?
“Ex—periment?” Gong Yue’s voice was very soft.
Ye Shanshan’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at the partition rising between the front and back seats to make sure no one else could hear him before briefly explaining, “People at the research institute used to do experiments on wound healing time.”
Quickly finishing the sentence, Ye Shanshan hurriedly emphasized, “But once Mama Youli found out, it never happened again.”
Gong Yue paused in cleaning the wound, pressing his lips together. Ye Shanshan looked at Gong Yue’s expressionless face, “Brother, I—”
Before he could finish, Gong Yue suddenly pulled him into a tight hug. Ye Shanshan froze, feeling anxious but not daring to struggle, “Your wound!”
“Shanshan, don’t move.” Gong Yue’s voice was low and deep, almost pleading. Ye Shanshan was a bit scared, feeling Gong Yue’s embrace was so tight it almost hurt, but he endured it without speaking or moving. He realized Gong Yue’s mood was very bad and probably needed a hug…right?
Thinking this, Ye Shanshan raised his arms and hugged Gong Yue back, lightly patting him like Gong Yue used to do for him. Replaying his words several times, he tentatively asked, “Brother, are you upset about the researchers’ experiments?”
Resting his chin on Gong Yue’s shoulder, his tone softened,
“It only happened once. When Mama Youli found out, she was furious and smashed a cup. It scared me a lot. She then told me it would never happen again and that she would do her best to protect me. So it’s okay, don’t be sad.”
After a long pause, Gong Yue finally spoke softly, “Did it hurt?”
“Huh?” Ye Shanshan was taken aback before realizing Gong Yue was asking if the experiment had hurt, “It hurt a lot at the time, but it doesn’t hurt now.”
To obtain accurate data, they hadn’t used anesthesia when creating various wounds with a scalpel. But he didn’t need to tell Gong Yue this, otherwise, his Demon King would probably explode.
Seeing Gong Yue still silent, Ye Shanshan felt a bit troubled and decided to speak up, “Brother, my hand hurts.”
As expected, Gong Yue loosened his grip, and Ye Shanshan quickly presented his fingers in front of Gong Yue, looking pitiful, “Blow some Demon King breath on it? It won’t hurt after you blow on it.”
“Okay.” Gong Yue lowered his head and seriously blew on each fingertip, his gaze focused.
***
By evening, Ye Shanshan had almost completely recovered his mood.
After taking a bath, he hummed a tune as he changed into a set of golden-yellow cartoon pajamas. Looking in the mirror, he thought the color was really nice. With his hair still damp, he grabbed a towel, put on his slippers, and went to find Gong Yue, his footsteps echoing “pat-pat” on the floor.
He opened the study door, peeked his head in to make sure Gong Yue wasn’t on a video call, then quickly went in to stand in front of him and handed over the towel, “Brother, dry my hair.”
Gong Yue’s attention was completely diverted when he heard Ye Shanshan’s footsteps outside the door. He closed all the chat windows and took the dolphin-printed towel with his left hand, helping Ye Shanshan, who was sitting on the carpet, dry his hair.
His towel-drying technique was just right, not too hard, not too soft. Ye Shanshan felt especially comfortable and secretly very happy—by his count, how many times had he received these “head pats” now!
Feeling like he’d struck gold, the more Ye Shanshan thought about it, the more satisfied he felt. He even chuckled foolishly twice, only to hear Gong Yue ask him, “So happy?”
Ye Shanshan nodded, “Mm, happy.” Saying this, he leaned closer to Gong Yue’s leg and rubbed against it a couple of times. As Gong Yue finished drying his hair, he saw that Ye Shanshan had already fallen asleep with his head resting on his knee.
Maintaining the position for a long time without daring to move, Gong Yue finally bent down and carried Ye Shanshan to the bedroom once he was sure he was deeply asleep and wouldn’t wake easily.
The wound on his right arm still ached, but he couldn’t bear to wake him up.
***
Early on the 16th, before dawn, Ye Shanshan went with the crew to the northern suburbs.
As soon as he got off the car, Ye Shanshan shivered and hurriedly wrapped himself tighter in his winter coat, but still couldn’t help sneezing.
Everyone exhaled warm breaths and rubbed their hands together before starting their work—setting up, installing equipment, laying tracks, and lighting. Director Zhang, with his trusty megaphone, directed operations from the side, his voice scaring away a large flock of birds.
Ye Shanshan had nothing to do initially and shivered as he retrieved the steamed buns from the insulated box in the car, sharing them with Director Zhang in the spirit of teamwork.
“Have you read the script?”
“Yes.” Ye Shanshan took a sip of hot water, feeling a bit warmer.
They were filming a series of public service ads about protecting endangered wildlife, composed of several segments, each with its own story and characters. Besides Ye Shanshan’s anthropomorphized deer, there were also themes featuring an antelope and three other animals. The plan was to edit everything together and release it in one go.
“Alright, the sun will rise soon. Let’s make the most of our time, or we’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
In the temporary makeup room, Ye Shanshan was already wearing realistic deer antlers, walking around to get used to their weight.
The makeup artist painted winding vines at the corner of his left eye, adding an exotic beauty to his face. But Ye Shanshan’s clear eyes diluted the sense of eeriness.
After quickly finishing the makeup, the stylist handed him his costume, “Shanshan, it’s really cold outside, hang in there.” The fabric was light and thin, looking like it wouldn’t keep out the wind at all.
Ye Shanshan smiled, took the costume, and went to the changing room to put it on.
When he came out, the makeup artist and stylist waiting outside gasped.
The thin fabric under the lights revealed his slender waistline. Ye Shanshan’s skin was very white, giving him a look that was both enchanting and pure, making it hard for anyone to look away.
Ye Shanshan also thought his outfit looked good, but as soon as he opened the makeup room door and the cold wind hit him, he felt terrible.
“…I might cry from the cold.”
The crew was ready, and after standing in place for a while, Ye Shanshan’s shivering body gradually straightened. He took a few steps, like he was finding his footing, and after walking a short distance, Director Zhang noticed that Ye Shanshan’s entire demeanor had changed.
He looked like a deer in the wilderness.
Director Zhang remembered telling Ye Shanshan in the car, “You’re playing a deer that has lost its mate. There are no lines, so you’ll need to convey everything through subtle expressions.”
And now, Ye Shanshan had clearly achieved that. Every muscle, every strand of hair seemed to embody the character of the deer.
The assistant, watching the footage on the monitor, said, “Boss, I feel really sad and lonely watching this, like he’s waiting for something hopelessly.”
Director Zhang nodded, then shook his head, staring at Ye Shanshan through the camera. After shooting a long shot, he called out “Cut,” and brought Ye Shanshan over.
Ye Shanshan took the down jacket and quickly wrapped himself up. Out of character, he realized his hands were nearly numb from the cold.
After he drank some hot water, Director Zhang showed him the footage, “The long shot is very good, every frame is beautiful, perfect for posters. But the close-ups and detailed shots aren’t right.”
He brought up the footage, “Look at your expression, do you see the problem?”
Ye Shanshan carefully watched for a while, holding the hot water cup, then shook his head in confusion.
“Emotion.” Director Zhang pointed to the screen, “I don’t know where you learned it, but your acting is nearly flawless. When we filmed ‘The Observer,’ I noticed you nailed even the micro-expressions, but something was always missing. It wasn’t obvious with the character Hu Yan, but this time, it’s glaringly evident.”
Director Zhang looked seriously at Ye Shanshan, “You can show sadness, but it’s not your own sadness, you’re just imitating.”
Staring at his own image on the screen, Ye Shanshan nodded. Yes, he was imitating, copying the actions and subtle expressions of others’ sadness.
Director Zhang was patient, “Right now, your mate has left you, leaving you alone in this world—”
Halfway through speaking, Director Zhang noticed Ye Shanshan’s confused expression. Suddenly realizing a crucial issue, he asked, “Do you know what a ‘mate’ is?”
1TL: YSIAD “You can support me if you like my translations by leaving a comment below, or by sending me a Ko-fi. Thank you and Enjoy reading ❤️”
