Chen Miao picked up a freshly cut coconut and started walking back toward the beach, where Lu Lianning had just returned from surfing.
He was dripping wet, seawater sliding down the toned muscles of his fair skin. As he approached Chen Miao, he shook his head, spraying water from his damp hair onto him.
It was only then that Lu Lianning noticed the coconut in Chen Miao’s hand. The top had a circular hole with the cut-out piece sitting on it like a little hat, and a plastic straw poked out of the opening.
Instead of taking it, Lu Lianning bent down as Chen Miao lifted the coconut, sipping from the straw.
Suddenly, there was a “click” sound. Lu Lianning’s first thought was that it must be paparazzi. But how could anyone have followed them to such a secluded private island and be so blatant about it?
Looking over, he saw an elderly man with graying hair but a lively demeanor. The man smiled warmly at Lu Lianning and waved.
Lu Lianning walked over, and the old man showed him the photo he had just taken.
In the picture, they looked like a couple. They stood close together—one holding the coconut while the other, still drenched, bent down to sip from the straw. The slightly shorter one, with a darker complexion, had an open collar and exposed wrist showing ambiguous marks. He was looking at the Alpha beside him, a smile visible even from the side.
Though Lu Lianning couldn’t understand the old man’s language, after a few gestures, he realized the man was asking for his contact information.
Glancing at the photo a few more times, Lu Lianning then looked back at Chen Miao, who still stood by the beach.
Looking back on those moments later, they couldn’t deny that there had been “good times.”
In the evening, the sky was painted with crimson clouds that stretched all the way to the horizon in a blaze of vivid color.
Chen Miao bent down and sipped the coconut juice through the straw that Lu Lianning had just used. The wind blew by, messing up his hair like it had been chewed by a dog.
Lu Lianning left his contact information on the old man’s phone.
On the flight back, Lu Lianning caught up on sleep, resting his head on Chen Miao’s lap. His weight made Chen Miao’s legs go numb, and he carefully tried to move them.
Although Chen Miao had been looking at Lu Lianning for a long time and wasn’t particularly sensitive to aesthetics, he couldn’t ignore just how strikingly handsome Lu Lianning was.
As he slept, his long, thick eyelashes rested against his lower eyelids. His skin was fair, his nose straight, and his lips had a pleasing curve that naturally carried a hint of a smile. But when awake, Lu Lianning often wore a sour expression.
Chen Miao spread his fingers, comparing them, puzzled as to why his skin had darkened despite using sunscreen, while Lu Lianning, who hadn’t applied any, didn’t have a trace of a tan.
In truth, Lu Lianning had woken up the moment Chen Miao shifted. He cracked his eyes open and saw the shadow of Chen Miao’s fingers hovering nearby.
Was he trying to touch his face?
Still being so sneaky about it, honestly? He thought Chen Miao had been doing well lately and figured the poor guy deserved a reward.
He closed his eyes again, but Chen Miao, still staring at his own darker hands with a hint of envy, hadn’t noticed any of this and slowly pulled his hand away.
Lu Lianning waited with his eyes closed for ten minutes, but nothing happened. Growing impatient, he opened his eyes to find Chen Miao with his head tilted, his upper eyelids almost touching the lower ones.
Lu Lianning got up from Chen Miao’s lap and shook him awake. “Don’t fall asleep! We’re almost there!”
Chen Miao jerked awake, checked the time, and wondered why Lu Lianning said they were almost there when over forty minutes of the flight remained.
They had stayed up late the night before, and although Lu Lianning had caught up on sleep, he wasn’t letting him rest?
Glancing at Lu Lianning’s expression, Chen Miao figured he was probably just grumpy from waking up.
–
Four days after returning, Lu Lianning joined the production team.
The film was titled “Shattered Window,” and it had an artistic flair.
It told the story of a painter drifting through various lovers, caught between emotions, physical desires, and artistic creation.
The role demanded the portrayal of a man who was beautiful but thin, pale, and melancholic.
Everyone who was initially captivated by his appearance eventually became frightened by his peculiar and gloomy personality. They would fall in love with him, only to retreat, as if stepping heavily on his heart before walking out of his life.
The painter’s emotions were repeatedly drained, his trust built up, then destroyed, only to be rebuilt and shattered again…
He became weak and pale, with hollow eyes. In the end, he realized the only thing that would never betray him was his art. So, he locked himself in his room, painting on canvases, speaking to his creations with the same tenderness he once used with his lovers.
One day, a neighbor saw him through a window, recoiled in horror, and shouted that he had gone mad.
That night, the painter smashed the window and boarded it up with wooden planks.
From then on, his world was sealed off. He painted on the walls and the floor of the dim, moldy room filled with mixed scents of paint and other strange odors. In this seemingly hopeless space, he created paintings of warmth and happiness. The visual contrast was stark—while the painter appeared on the verge of collapse as if the oil in his lamp had run dry, his paintings were full of life.
In the final scene, he lay in a field of sunflowers. A beautiful woman was beside him, her belly having a big bulge. He curled up next to her and peacefully closed his eyes.
A week later, the neighbor called the police, complaining of a foul odor.
When the room was opened, the stench was overwhelming, nearly making those present vomit on the spot.
The walls were covered in chaotic, shapeless lines. The painter’s supplies had long been exhausted, and his brushes were worn beyond use.
He lay curled inside what resembled the shape of a human belly, his features blurred, making him appear incomplete and somewhat terrifying.
It was, without a doubt, a deeply depressing film.
To meet Yu Ren’s vision, Lu Lianning went on an extreme weight loss regimen. Everything he couldn’t eat, Chen Miao secretly devoured behind his back, too afraid to eat in front of him.
If Lu Lianning caught him, he’d surely throw a fit.
Chen Miao prepared diet meals for him, slicing fruit and serving it to Lu Lianning.
When filming on location, Chen Miao had double the workload, holding an umbrella in one hand and a small fan for Lu Lianning in the other.
If Chen Miao wasn’t waiting in the dressing room when Lu Lianning finished a scene, Lu Lianning would get irritated. If he struggled to get into character and the director scolded him, it was Chen Miao who quietly coaxed him.
In less than half a month, it felt like Lu Lianning was determined to make the entire crew think he was a three-year-old!
