Chen Miao and Lu Lianning had barely managed to reconcile.
But what did “barely” mean in this context?
It meant that while Lu Lianning had reluctantly agreed to let Chen Miao keep working alongside him, the situation was far from the indifferent treatment of before when Chen Miao had been simply used as a tool. Now, it felt as though Lu Lianning was going out of his way to make things difficult for him.
“Chen Miao! What kind of tea is this!? Are you trying to burn me alive!”
Chen Miao quickly rushed to prepare another cup and handed it to Lu Lianning.
After just one sip, Lu Lianning spat it out. “It’s too cold and too sweet. Throw it away and make another.”
Chen Miao hurried back out to prepare a new cup.
A moment later, the sound of a glass slamming heavily on the table echoed through the room. “I don’t drink herbal tea.”
So, who had been drinking all those cups of herbal tea up until now?
For just one cup of tea, Chen Miao was running back and forth until he was out of breath. Finally, he felt a sense of relief when Lu Lianning left to shoot his scenes.
Later, when it was time to eat, Chen Miao brought over the food he had prepared, but Lu Lianning barely took two bites with his eyes lowered before setting his chopsticks down. “Too salty.”
Chen Miao opened the container of soup and pushed it toward him. In the middle of winter, sweat was beading on his forehead, as if he’d just walked out of a sauna.
Lu Lianning took a sip, only to complain again, “It tastes too fishy. I can’t drink it.”
Chen Miao replied, “I’ve always made it this way. You used to say it was good.”
Lu Lianning ignored him completely as if Chen Miao had committed some unforgivable offense. He picked up a fishbone from the bowl with his chopsticks and frowned. “You didn’t even remove the bones properly!”
“I did, I did. That one must have slipped through…” Chen Miao explained anxiously, bending over slightly.
“How do I know if it was accidental or on purpose?” Lu Lianning arched an eyebrow, tossing the fishbone back into the bowl. “I don’t want fish anymore. Go make some chicken instead.”
This relentless nitpicking and torment lasted for about a week, during which Chen Miao lost several pounds. In the biting cold of winter, he wore an old black cotton jacket, his thin wrists looking frail inside the sleeves.
One day, filming ran late, and by the time Lu Lianning finished, it was nearly midnight.
He glanced out from the dressing room but saw no sign of Chen Miao.
Before, Chen Miao would always be there waiting, already packing his things and ready to act as his driver to take him home.
Lu Lianning hadn’t eaten dinner today and had sent Chen Miao back to make it again. But still, Chen Miao was nowhere to be found.
Had he finally had enough?
Lu Lianning had been wondering how long Chen Miao could last.
Sitting in the dressing room with one leg crossed over the other, he wore a sour expression but made no move to leave.
He decided to give Chen Miao another ten minutes. If he showed up, he would overlook his negligence today.
But, unfortunately, twenty minutes passed, and still no one appeared in the doorway of the open dressing room.
Lu Lianning was suddenly overwhelmed by an indescribable frustration. He had been working all day without a single hot meal, and now Chen Miao had the nerve to disappear without a word!
When he tried calling, the voicemail message informed him that the recipient’s phone was turned off. His expression darkened.
Standing up, he changed out of his costume, pulling on a black trench coat that made his frame look even taller and leaner. He casually threw a scarf around his neck and headed outside.
As soon as he stepped out, he was met with the sight of snow falling. A blast of cold wind hit him as he walked out of the heated dressing room, his coat left open, and the chill seemed to penetrate right through him.
He suddenly remembered that today Chen Miao hadn’t warmed up his coat under the heater before handing it to him.
At that moment, he looked up and saw his car parked by the roadside, the interior light still on.
He quickly strode over, his long legs leaving footprints in the thin layer of snow on the ground. The wind whipped around his loosely draped scarf, his expression cold, looking quite menacing.
When he reached the car, he saw Chen Miao fast asleep in the driver’s seat, a thermal container clutched in his arms. His head was tilted to one side, and the warm orange glow from the car’s interior light gently illuminated his face.
Lu Lianning almost laughed in exasperation. He slapped the car door with a loud thud, jolting Chen Miao awake, and then yanked the door open.
A rush of cold air flooded in, and the sudden noise startled Chen Miao. Even in his panic, he kept a tight grip on the thermos, as if he were cradling some precious treasure.
Lu Lianning looked closely and noticed the damage on the bottom of the container—it seemed to be the mark from when he’d kicked it against a tree and it rolled down.
The dented area looked like it had been hammered back into shape somehow.
For a moment, Lu Lianning was at a loss for words. Any trace of sleepiness vanished from Chen Miao’s face as he cautiously glanced up with wide, clear eyes.
Lu Lianning spoke in a deep voice, “Do you even know what time it is? I asked you to prepare dinner, and you turned it into a midnight snack!?”
Chen Miao apologized profusely, quickly lifting the lid of the thermal container. “You must be hungry. Please eat first—it’s still hot.”
Lu Lianning took the container, and sure enough, steam rose from the porridge inside.
This thermal container was really something.
Lu Lianning added, “I’ve been working hard filming all day, thirsty and exhausted, and there wasn’t even anyone to hand me a cup of tea. Meanwhile, you were hiding out with the heater on, fast asleep?”
“I’m so sorry, Lu-ge. It won’t happen again. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Chen Miao hurriedly admitted his mistake, “It’s just… I’ve been so tired lately.”
And he had every reason to be. With Ren Qi keeping a close watch, Lu Lianning had been filming late into the night each day. Chen Miao had to get up early to prepare breakfast, wake him up, and then drive him back late, tidy up afterward, and only then could he head home.
As Lu Lianning scrutinized him condescendingly, he noticed that Chen Miao’s lashes were surprisingly long in the warm orange light.
In fact, Chen Miao wasn’t bad-looking, though he didn’t stand out much either. His most memorable feature was his eyes—bright, with black pupils that gave him a sincere look, especially when he smiled with his mouth wide open.
Lu Lianning eyed him and thought that if Chen Miao’s complexion weren’t as tan, he would probably see dark circles under his eyes.
He himself had faint dark circles these days, and the makeup artist had taken extra care to conceal them today.
“Cold,” Lu Lianning said out of nowhere.
Chen Miao quickly replied, “It’s not cold, really, Lu-ge. It’s still warm, try it.” He knew that if he had to go back and make another meal now, he’d get no sleep at all. He might as well just wait until dawn to start preparing breakfast.
Chen Miao hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days.
His eyes held a pleading look as he gazed at Lu Lianning, who, under that look, slowly clarified, “I meant my hands are cold.”
Chen Miao blinked in confusion and repeated, “Hands are cold…” The haze of being startled awake clouded his thoughts, and it took him a moment to process. “Oh, your hands are cold…” After repeating himself twice, he finally got out of the car, turned up the heat, and rummaged in the backseat for the hand warmer he’d bought.
But Lu Lianning stopped him. “I want my hands warm now.”
Chen Miao held onto the fluffy, brightly colored hand warmer, silently praying Lu Lianning wouldn’t make things more difficult. He lowered his voice and said, “Lu-ge, please wait… just wait a few minutes. It’ll heat up quickly.”
Lu Lianning grabbed the fluffy thing from his hands, intending to toss it outside, but he stopped himself, knowing Chen Miao would probably scurry to fetch it like a loyal puppy.
So instead, he tossed it into the backseat, thinking how ridiculous it was that a fool like Chen Miao could even dream of crawling into his bed.
“I said I want them warm now. Don’t you understand?”
With his brows furrowed, Lu Lianning pulled Chen Miao closer by his shirt and, without warning, shoved his ice-cold hands onto Chen Miao’s warm stomach.
Chen Miao shivered from the chill and instinctively shrank back, but a sharp glance from Lu Lianning made him lean in again.
Snowflakes drifted softly as the night deepened. The surroundings were dim, illuminated only by the car’s lights, which made the tiny snowflakes barely visible.
Chen Miao vaguely recalled that, in the beginning, Lu Lianning hadn’t insisted on eating his cooking. Back then, he’d often sent Chen Miao out to buy takeout from different places. But ever since he’d started cooking for him, Lu Lianning rarely asked for outside food, instead constantly demanding dishes cooked exactly to his taste.
And now, it was the same with warming his hands. Chen Miao wondered if he’d have to warm them like this for the entire winter.
The cold felt almost unbearable, and he regretted that the hand warmer he’d bought that day had been of such poor quality. If it had been better, this whole situation might have never happened.
Lu Lianning noticed Chen Miao staring off into space. He had expected him to cling to him like before, but instead, Chen Miao just stayed there, looking blank and lost in thought.
