What is a mate?
Ye Shanshan expressed that he knew the answer. After all, he had seriously memorized the dictionary before. “A mate is someone you live, work, or travel with.” After saying that, he looked at Director Zhang with an expression that said, “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“……”
Looking at Ye Shanshan’s expression, Director Zhang suddenly felt that he wasn’t wrong at all and was at a loss for words. At this moment, he finally understood why Ye Shanshan’s fans said he was “poisonous.”
However, Zhang prided himself on being able to teach even the most clueless actors how to act, so he pressed on.
“In this context, ‘mate’ is just a reference. The ‘deer’ is an anthropomorphized character. He is wandering aimlessly in the wilderness at dawn because he lost his mate, his lover, his cherished one, his family.”
Seeing Ye Shanshan still looking confused, Director Zhang swallowed back the words “Do you understand now?”
Director Zhang concluded that Ye Shanshan was the least perceptive lead actor he had ever worked with.
Consoling himself with the thought that high IQ individuals who dabble in physics might have low emotional intelligence, he decided to change his approach.
“Let’s discuss who, in your real life, is the most important and irreplaceable person to you, the one you live, work, and travel with.”
“Gong Yue.” Ye Shanshan answered without hesitation.
Director Zhang was somewhat surprised by this answer. However, remembering how Ye Shanshan instantly opened the door and threw himself at Gong Yue upon hearing his arrival at the hotel last time, he found it unsurprising.
At least, the way that Gong Yue, the head of the Gong family, looked at Ye Shanshan could make even a man like Director Zhang feel tingles.
Bringing his thoughts back on track, Director Zhang continued, “In acting, there’s a concept called ’emotional transference,’ where you channel your real-life emotions into the character you’re playing.”
“So, Shanshan, for the ‘deer,’ his partner is as important as Gong Yue is to you. A partner, a lover, someone irreplaceable. If lost, it would be heart-wrenching. Do you understand now?”
After explaining this, Director Zhang suddenly noticed something was off with Ye Shanshan.
Sitting on a plastic stool, Ye Shanshan seemed to zone out for a moment. His hand suddenly loosened, causing the water cup he was holding to fall to the ground with a thud.
His previously straight back gradually hunched over, and Ye Shanshan began to breathe heavily, clutching his chest with his right hand, his fingers tightening to the point where his knuckles turned white and his nails dug into his flesh, quickly drawing blood that flowed down his arm.
The situation escalated too quickly. Director Zhang only reacted when he saw the blood and momentarily panicked.
Recalling that Zheng Dong had assured him that Ye Shanshan had no acute illnesses, and remembering instances when Ye Shanshan became deeply immersed in his roles during filming, Director Zhang forced himself to stay calm.
He squatted in front of Ye Shanshan, patting his shoulder. “Shanshan, let go!” The down jacket had slipped halfway off, and the thin white fabric was quickly stained with blood, like blood from the heart.
At this moment, Ye Shanshan could not hear the outside world.
Staring at the rough ground, he suddenly remembered the night he left the lab. When naming him, Gong Yue pointed at the green plant growing from a crack in the rock and said, “Let’s call you Ye Shanshan.”
In his vision, he saw the scene from his dream where Gong Yue lay on the ground, covered in blood, not responding no matter how much he called.
His thoughts seemed to stall, countless voices and images flashing by, all related to Gong Yue.
“Shanshan, don’t be afraid.”
“Shanshan, let’s go home together.”
“Shanshan, you will live with me from now on. Just tell me what you want, and I will take care of you.”
“Shanshan, I promise, I won’t leave you alone.”
Drops of blood from his palm fell onto the rough ground, disappearing into the dirt and leaving dark stains. Ye Shanshan’s lip muscles twitched, and he opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
For the first time, Director Zhang felt regret, but it was too late. Thinking quickly, he placed both hands on Ye Shanshan’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Shanshan, what do you want to say?”
Ye Shanshan’s lips trembled, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed several times before producing a broken sound, “Gong—Yue—”
The moment the name escaped his lips, it seemed to shatter a barrier, and Ye Shanshan’s eyes suddenly filled with tears, streaming down his pale face.
His voice choked with emotion, he didn’t know how to release the overwhelming feelings inside him. He could only call out “Gong Yue” repeatedly, clutching his chest as if it was the only way to ease the pain in his heart.
Feeling that things couldn’t continue like this, Director Zhang propped up Ye Shanshan’s shoulder with one hand while quickly pulling out his phone with the other, rapidly finding Zheng Dong’s number. As soon as the call connected, he asked, “Old Zheng, do you have Gong Yue’s phone number?”
Zheng Dong quickly caught on, “Did something happen to Shanshan?”
“We’re shooting a commercial in the northern suburbs right now, and Shanshan—it’s my fault—he’s emotionally breaking down and keeps calling Gong Yue’s name.”
Before he could finish, Zheng Dong interrupted, “I’ll call him right away. You stay with Shanshan.” He added a reminder, “Take care of him and keep talking to him. He absolutely cannot be left alone.” With that, he hung up.
Putting the phone aside, Director Zhang looked at Ye Shanshan, feeling heartache seeing him cry so sorrowfully.
Wiping his face, Director Zhang carefully removed the antlers from Ye Shanshan and pulled up his slipping down jacket. He considered wiping off the vine makeup from Ye Shanshan’s eyes but remembered that the makeup artist had used special waterproof paint, which required a specific makeup remover.
After a moment of silence and signaling the assistants to stay away, Director Zhang sat down beside Ye Shanshan.
“Shanshan, seeing you cry makes me feel so sad. I really regret explaining the scene to you this way. I should have noticed something was off with your emotions during the last scene.”
Director Zhang sighed, rambling on, “You’re a very talented actor, the only thing you lack is emotional expression. I wanted to help you with this commercial, thinking that breaking through this barrier would make you even more brilliant…”
He trailed off, remembering how he used to tell stories to soothe his daughter when she cried as a child. Looking at Ye Shanshan, curled up on himself, Director Zhang began telling a fairy tale.
“Once upon a time, in a castle, there lived a princess…”
※※※
In less than half an hour, the sound of a car engine was heard in the distance. Soon, a black car screeched to a halt nearby.
Gong Yue stepped out of the back seat, striding quickly towards Ye Shanshan, his face like an icy mask.
Kneeling in front of Ye Shanshan, his coat tails touching the ground, Gong Yue saw that Ye Shanshan had lost all vitality, tears streaming down his face, his hand still clutching his clothes, with blood dried in his palm.
Gong Yue turned to Director Zhang, “Hello, could you please explain what exactly happened?”
Director Zhang didn’t waste words, “Today, Shanshan’s role was a deer who had lost its partner. He couldn’t achieve the right emotion, so to help him get into character, I asked him who the most important person in his life was. He said it was you. He must have then substituted you into the role, imagining you as the lost partner, which caused his emotional breakdown.”
Looking at Ye Shanshan’s state, Director Zhang regretted it deeply. “At first, he was so sad he couldn’t even cry. Then he managed to call out your name, and the tears finally flowed, but he hasn’t responded to anything I’ve said.”
Understanding the situation, Gong Yue felt a profound, uncontrollable pain.
He covered Ye Shanshan’s right hand with his own, speaking gently, “Shanshan, listen to me, let go of your hand.” Repeating it twice, Ye Shanshan finally showed a response.
Following Gong Yue’s guidance, Ye Shanshan loosened his grip. The fabric stuck to the dried blood, but Gong Yue carefully separated it.
Holding both of Ye Shanshan’s hands in his, Gong Yue looked into his eyes, feeling each tear like a stab to his heart.
“Shanshan, look, I’m right here. I’m not dead, and I haven’t left you alone.” He placed Ye Shanshan’s uninjured hand on his neck, over his pulse. “Feel that? I’m really okay. Look at me, Shanshan.”
Ye Shanshan stared intently at Gong Yue’s lips. After half a minute, his hand on Gong Yue’s artery twitched, and he blinked, his tears soaking his eyelashes, his voice hoarse, “Gong Yue.”
“Yes, I’m here.”
With trembling hands, Ye Shanshan touched Gong Yue’s eyes, nose, eyebrows, and lips before suddenly bursting into tears. He threw himself onto Gong Yue, clinging to him as if drowning, incoherently babbling, “You left… you left me alone… you promised to take me with you, you promised not to leave me alone…”
Gong Yue held him tightly, kissing his hair and ear, suppressing his own sorrow, softly reassuring him, “Yes, I haven’t left. I won’t leave you alone.” Repeating these words countless times until Ye Shanshan calmed down a bit, resting on Gong Yue’s shoulder, sobbing quietly.
With Ye Shanshan’s down jacket on the ground, Gong Yue wrapped him in his own coat, looking at Director Zhang, who hadn’t left. “I’ll take him to the car to rest for a while. Shanshan takes his roles very seriously; I hope you can understand.”
Director Zhang nodded, “I share the blame. Take him to rest.”
Gong Yue instructed Qin Xuan, who had been standing nearby, “Check if the crew needs anything, as compensation for the time Shanshan has taken.”
Qin Xuan nodded, “Understood.”
Carrying Ye Shanshan all the way to the parked car, the driver helped open the door before stepping aside.
Gong Yue intended to place Ye Shanshan in the back seat first and then get in himself, but Ye Shanshan instinctively clung to Gong Yue’s clothes, unwilling to let go. So, Gong Yue awkwardly followed him in without forcing him to release his grip.
He wiped the tears from Ye Shanshan’s face and kissed his eyelids. “There, there, don’t be afraid. Everything is okay now.”
Ye Shanshan stared at Gong Yue for a while, his thoughts gradually clearing. “Gong Yue?”
“Yes, it’s me. I’m here.” Gong Yue nodded, gently smoothing Ye Shanshan’s sweat-drenched hair.
After thinking for a moment, Ye Shanshan asked, “Did I just cry for a long time?”
“Yes, for a long time.”
Sniffling and hiccupping from crying, Ye Shanshan’s mind raced. He asked nervously, “Do you think I’m too weepy?”
Gong Yue shook his head. “No, I feel heartbroken.” He took Ye Shanshan’s right hand, “Your finger injuries are just healing.”
Ye Shanshan pulled his hand back slightly and heard Gong Yue ask, “Why were you crying?”
“Couldn’t get into the emotion. Director Zhang was explaining the scene to me and mentioned that the deer’s partner died.” Ye Shanshan tightly grasped Gong Yue’s fingers. “At that moment, it felt like something broke inside me. I saw many images of you and heard many voices of yours speaking to me. Then I saw you die, just like in that dream…”
As Gong Yue listened attentively and patted his back to soothe him, he thought about how Ye Shanshan’s emotional development had always been somewhat different from that of ordinary people.
From childhood to now, Ye Shanshan never experienced “psychological barrier reconstruction” and had never been taught how to manage his emotions.
Thus, when facing many shadows that others couldn’t overcome, Ye Shanshan felt nothing, not because he was indifferent, but because he simply didn’t care, so they didn’t affect him.
However, whether it was the psychological shadow left by Gong Youli’s death or Ye Shanshan’s deepest fear—Gong Yue dying and leaving him alone—both were unbearable for Ye Shanshan.
So, this time, when he substituted Gong Yue into the role of “a partnerless deer wandering alone in the world,” he collapsed completely.
After explaining, Ye Shanshan looked at Gong Yue, nervously asking, “Brother, are we mates?”
His eyes were red and swollen from crying, like glass washed with water. Before Gong Yue could respond, Ye Shanshan continued,
“Director Zhang said a mate is your lover, the one you love, your family, the most important person in your life. Losing them would cause unbearable pain.”
He stubbornly looked at Gong Yue. “So, are you my mate?”
Gong Yue looked at Ye Shanshan. The words of denial stuck on his tongue, unable to be spoken.
A voice inside him warned that the whole truth had yet to be discovered. If he completely let go of his self-restraint, and if he died one day, Shanshan’s life would be plunged into darkness.
“Are we?” Ye Shanshan asked again, seeking an answer.
What did it matter?
Pushing aside all hesitation, Gong Yue gently kissed Ye Shanshan’s brow and gave his answer,
“Yes, we are mates, lovers, and family. We are the most important people to each other.”
Hesitation had no meaning anymore because what happened today showed that even if Ye Shanshan didn’t fully understand love, even if he never grasped this feeling, even if Gong Yue maintained the final boundary between them, if he died one day—
—his Shanshan would never live on alone.
So, it was better to give Ye Shanshan everything he wanted within the limited time they had.
Hearing Gong Yue’s words, Ye Shanshan realized he had been so nervous he almost forgot to breathe.
Taking a deep breath, he involuntarily smiled. The emotions that had long been growing in his heart now spread wildly like vines with Gong Yue’s affirmation.
Ye Shanshan laughed foolishly twice, staring at Gong Yue, unwilling to look away. “I think so too.” He repeated firmly, “I think so too.”
“Yes.” Gong Yue pulled him onto his lap, face to face. “Still crying?”
“No.” Ye Shanshan blushed, glancing at Gong Yue’s lips. Hesitating for a moment, he asked, “Today isn’t World Kissing Day, but can we kiss?” His gaze fixed on Gong Yue’s lips, and he licked his own as if craving a taste.
Gong Yue’s finger brushed the spot Ye Shanshan had licked, feeling a bit of moisture. He softly asked, “Do you want to?”
“Yes, I want to kiss.”
Faced with such an eager Ye Shanshan, Gong Yue had no resistance. His finger pressed a bit harder. “Okay, but no more crying later.”
This time, Ye Shanshan felt Gong Yue press him into the seatback, kissing him intensely. He felt as if Gong Yue would devour him. His hands were tightly held, unable to move, and his tongue was sucked and licked so fiercely that he felt as if his soul was being drawn out.
After a while, Gong Yue pulled his lips away slightly, suppressing heavy breaths, and asked, “Do you like it?”
Ye Shanshan was honest. Whether it was the gentle kind before or the intense kind now, “I like them both.”
Gong Yue looked at the person in his arms, suddenly thinking,
—Even if I can’t explain why I love you, I know you’re the reason I don’t love anyone else, the reason I’m no longer alone.
※※※
Ye Shanshan straightened his messy clothes and had Gong Yue help him tidy his disheveled hair, checking himself in a mirror. “Brother, my lips are so red. It’s your fault.”
Gong Yue had no objection. “Yes, it’s my fault.”
When they got out of the car, the crew was eating hot pot.
After Gong Yue took Ye Shanshan back to the car, Qin Xuan, following Gong Yue’s instructions, apologized to Director Zhang and contacted the Gong family kitchen to send five tables of hot pot as a gesture of apology to the crew.
Most of the crew had worked with Ye Shanshan on “The Observer” and knew he wasn’t a prima donna. They could understand the situation, and once the hot pot arrived, there were no further complaints.
After all, in the chilly suburbs, a hot pot that makes you sweat is worth more than a hundred apologies.
Qin Xuan, Director Zhang, and the hastily arrived Zheng Dong sat together, keeping an eye on the car in the distance. The three of them were skilled in socializing, chatting easily without awkwardness.
Ye Shanshan approached the table, the spicy aroma making his mouth water. However, his tongue and lips were slightly damaged from Gong Yue’s kissing, so he settled for drinking a cup of hot peanut milk.
“Director Zhang, I’m sorry for always causing you trouble.” Ye Shanshan felt very apologetic, whether it was for taking time off initially, during the last scene previously, or for this current scene.
“It’s my fault for not being considerate. Seeing you cry like that—let’s not talk about it.” Director Zhang waved his hand. “Do you still want to shoot today?”
Ye Shanshan nodded, “Yes, I do.”
After the crew had finished eating, Director Zhang took out his portable loudspeaker. “Alright, everyone, back to work now that we’re full! Let’s do justice to this hot pot and aim to wrap up early!”
Ye Shanshan changed into his backup costume. The vine pattern under his eyes, being waterproof, hadn’t smudged, so it didn’t need to be redrawn. He only had to cover up his reddened eyes.
Putting on the fake antlers, Ye Shanshan took off Gong Yue’s cashmere coat and set it aside. He glanced at Gong Yue, who was watching him from a distance, before standing in front of the camera and closing his eyes.
When he opened them again, he had transformed into the ‘deer’ who had lost its mate, wandering aimlessly and hopelessly across the wilderness.
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 ❤️”
