Not only was Lu Lianning spending winter on a mountain for the first time, but even Chen Miao was also experiencing it for the first time.
The thick clothes Chen Miao had carefully packed for Lu Lianning were all rejected by him, who was picky about them.
The mountain air was even colder, and as the snow began to fall, the temperature plummeted sharply.
Chen Miao watched as Lu Lianning remained dressed in his thin costume for the role, looking almost ethereal. His expression was as cold as the ice, but his once fair fingers had turned red from the chill.
As soon as the scene wrapped up, Chen Miao hurried over with two hand warmers he had charged in advance.
Lu Lianning glanced at the colorful hand warmers. Perhaps he was truly freezing, as his face had taken on a slightly blue tinge. Without his usual complaints, he gave Chen Miao a mildly disdainful look before slipping his hands into the warmers.
Chen Miao draped a thick cotton coat over him, but just as he started to warm up, Lu Lianning had to take it off again for the next shot.
The warmth quickly evaporated into the cold air, making him feel even colder than before.
During this time, Ren Qi pushed the crew hard to meet deadlines, worried that heavy snow would make the mountain impassable if they waited any longer. Since the outdoor shoots were almost finished, the last few days demanded even more overtime.
Lu Lianning had a temper off-set, but once in character, at least he remained professional.
Chen Miao was so busy he felt like he was being split in two. The snow made the roads slippery, slowing him down even further. When he returned, he found that one of the two cheap hand warmers he had bought had exploded, scorching the wires on the power strip black and filling the air with a pungent smell.
The other one hadn’t exploded, but when he touched it, it was ice-cold and hadn’t charged at all.
Judging from this, he guessed that even if it had charged, it might have exploded too.
The tent they were using was some distance from the day’s filming location, so Chen Miao hurried over, struggling through the snow.
When he arrived, he saw Lu Lianning standing alone, wrapped in a thick black cotton coat, leaning against a dead tree with his arms crossed. Frost clung to his eyelashes, and his lips had lost their color.
Lu Lianning not getting along with the crew was nothing new. He always carried an air of disdain, as if no one was worth his attention. Aside from acknowledging the director, he wouldn’t even greet anyone.
Chen Miao glanced over at the crew, who were happily sharing roasted sweet potatoes, with Ye He sitting in the middle. Ye He broke open a sweet potato, revealing its steaming orange center, filling the air with a mouth-watering aroma.
With a friendly smile on his youthful, beautiful face, Ye He offered half to his assistant and even called the cameraman over to share some.
The lively scene over there stood in stark contrast to Lu Lianning’s lonely figure, leaning against the dead tree.
When Lu Lianning saw Chen Miao approaching, he moved his stiff limbs and glanced over.
Chen Miao stopped. Upon closer inspection, Lu Lianning realized that he had come empty-handed.
Lu Lianning didn’t know exactly what to call the warm, fuzzy things he had been expecting, but after standing there freezing for so long, his hands nearly numb, he couldn’t help but notice their absence when Chen Miao arrived.
“Where is it?” His voice was sharp with displeasure.
Chen Miao gritted his teeth and walked over, slowly opening his cotton coat. “Lu-ge, the hand warmer exploded. Just put your hands in here for now to warm up. I’ll go down the mountain to buy another one tonight.”
Lu Lianning’s eyes flickered, and after a brief pause, he placed his hands inside the coat. Through the thin layer of fabric, he could feel the warmth of Chen Miao’s stomach. He thought that Chen Miao was truly born to serve others.
The cold made Chen Miao’s skin break out in goosebumps, and his teeth began to chatter. It felt like clutching a block of ice, numbing him to the core.
After less than ten minutes, Chen Miao said, “Lu-ge, take your hands out and switch sides. The wind’s getting into my clothes, and it’s not staying warm.”
Lu Lianning asked, “Switch sides?”
Though the two were standing very close, neither found it inappropriate. To Lu Lianning, Chen Miao was simply a rare, useful tool.
Chen Miao turned around, his back now facing Lu Lianning, and slowly guided his hands back to his stomach under his coat.
It now looked as if Lu Lianning was hugging him from behind. As his hands made contact, Lu Lianning noticed that the thin fabric had disappeared—Chen Miao had placed his hands directly on his bare stomach.
Beneath his fingers, Chen Miao’s skin was warm and dry, radiating heat. They were so close that Lu Lianning could smell the clean scent of soap coming from him.
“Lu-ge, do you feel warmer now?”
Chen Miao seemed to be pressing himself tightly against Lu Lianning. It was only then that Lu Lianning started to sense something was off.
An indescribable feeling of disbelief crept into his mind. He couldn’t fathom how an ordinary and unremarkable Beta like Chen Miao could be so debauched and overconfident.
He never imagined that Chen Miao would want to climb into his bed.
But then he thought, of course.
Who else would serve someone with dedication like this and go to such great lengths? Chen Miao’s attentiveness was almost excessively thoughtful.
Unlike his previous assistants, who would become fed up and quit after a few days, Chen Miao was different. He could anticipate Lu Lianning’s needs with just a glance, and his determination was indeed unusual.
Lu Lianning began to wonder if Chen Miao was a fan, someone who had admired him for a long time.
That would explain why Chen Miao could endure so much, silently putting up with everything and tolerating his outbursts—something most others would have given up on long ago.
As Lu Lianning’s hands gradually warmed, he lightly traced his index finger across Chen Miao’s stomach.
Chen Miao seemed unable to bear it, pressing himself further into Lu Lianning’s embrace, murmuring softly, “Lu-ge.”
Lu Lianning had lost track of how many people had tried to get close to him like this over the years; he was sensitive to such advances. This subtle test confirmed his suspicions almost immediately.
His hands were warm enough now, so he pulled them away.
Chen Miao turned around, his bright eyes looking up at Lu Lianning, his gaze glistening.
Lu Lianning slowly curled his lips into an ambiguous smile—a smile that made Chen Miao feel uneasy, though strangely familiar as if he had seen it somewhere before.
But there was no time to dwell on it, as Lu Lianning had to return to filming.
By evening, a heavy snowfall blocked the mountain road, but at least they had wrapped up the final outdoor scene.
With the outdoor shooting complete, a sense of relief spread through the crew. Although they couldn’t leave the mountain yet, they cleared some snow and held a bonfire party.
Chen Miao helped the crew set up tents and clear the snow. When he finished, he realized there was only one tent assigned to them. Hesitant, he asked about it.
Someone told him that due to a limited number of tents, he would have to share with Lu Lianning. They added that Ye He was also sharing a tent with his assistant—two people per tent was the norm.
Lu Lianning seemed to acknowledge that filming had been tough recently. When Ren Qi personally invited him to the bonfire party, he surprisingly gave him face and nodded, ending up drinking quite a bit of alcohol.
That night, when he returned to the tent assigned by the staff, he noticed the light was on inside.
He stepped in and saw that, in the cramped space, Chen Miao was lying in his bed.
When Chen Miao saw him enter, he quickly explained, “Lu-ge, there’s no heating here. I was worried you’d be cold, so I’m warming up the bed for you.”
Lu Lianning let out a derisive laugh. “Chen Miao, what’s this? Think you haven’t been serving me well enough and now you want to take over bed duties too?”
Unexpectedly, Chen Miao didn’t seem to pick up on Lu Lianning’s mood. His voice was soft, but in the tiny tent with just the two of them, it was clear as day.
He asked, “Is that okay?”
The mocking smile on Lu Lianning’s face vanished. His voice was icy as he snapped, “Put your clothes on and get out.”
Chen Miao struggled, “But we only have one tent. I have nowhere else to go.”
Lu Lianning didn’t believe a word of it. Even if it were true, so what? Who’s to say Chen Miao hadn’t deliberately broken those hand warmers just to cozy up to him? Making him wait in the cold for so long?
Besides, someone with such obvious ulterior motives as Chen Miao needed to be taught a lesson.
“Get out!” Lu Lianning repeated, this time with much more force.
Chen Miao shivered internally, quickly threw on his coat, and hurried out of the tent, disappearing from Lu Lianning’s sight.
As Chen Miao dressed, Lu Lianning realized that he had been fully clothed in the bed all along. Lu Lianning had assumed he’d stripped down.
Outside, Chen Miao crouched by the entrance of the tent, just as a staff member arrived with an extra blanket. Seeing him huddled there, the staff member asked why he wasn’t inside.
Chen Miao accepted the blanket and thanked them politely. Not wanting to admit he had been thrown out by Lu Lianning, he said, “It’s stuffy in there. I needed some fresh air.”
Through the thin tent walls, he could hear Lu Lianning let out a faint laugh.
Chen Miao forced an awkward smile at the staff member before wrapping the blanket around himself and falling silent.
He nestled by the tent entrance, gazing at the remnants of the bonfire, now just a few glowing embers. The thick snow covered the trees, and though the night was dark, it seemed to carry a bluish hue.
Staring at the dying embers in a daze, he finally recognized the look Lu Lianning had given him earlier, back when he was leaning against that dead tree.
It was the same look he had seen in his hometown, in the eyes of mischievous kids who laughed and jeered as they threw stones at the filthy stray dog by the village entrance.
A kind of pure, natural malice, untouched by the bitterness of suffering.
