HEIFEIGU -Chapter 134

The moment “Cut” was called, Qian Shuyun practically leapt forward.

Although the scene was done, Xie Jixing remained dazed.

The cold wind and snow had stiffened him entirely.

Not only was his body numb, but his mind had also stopped thinking.

Xie Jixing stood outside the set, bewildered, not knowing what to do or where to go.

For an instant, the world seemed swallowed by the blizzard, a vast white nothingness that disoriented him.

He only regained a hint of awareness when he was enveloped in a warm embrace.

Qian Shuyun looked closely at the wound on his forehead.

The blood had frozen into shards of ice, mixed with the muddy water on the ground—a complete mess.

And yet, he didn’t seem to feel any pain.

Thinking this made Qian Shuyun’s heart twist, both aching and tender.

He lowered his voice deliberately and asked, “Xingxing, does it hurt?”

At his voice, Xie Jixing seemed to be “activated.” He shivered slightly in the embrace, then reached up to touch his forehead.

His fingertips came away with a smear of murky red. Xie Jixing pinched it and murmured to himself, “Ah… it’s bleeding.”

“Come on, get in the car.” Qian Shuyun sent a message to the assistant director and led him toward the van.

This miserable scene? No more filming!

The director had already slipped away to soothe his boyfriend.

The assistant director announced a day-and-a-half break.

Actors and crew were thrilled.

Filming was relentless, burning money day and night, with no breaks.

A day-and-a-half off felt like winning the lottery.

Just as Qian Shuyun helped Xie Jixing into the van, the crew delivered a first-aid kit.

The van’s heater melted all the tiny ice particles on Xie Jixing’s face.

His pale skin had been painted with a bit of yellowish makeup, which now ran and smudged from the melting ice.

His face looked like a mess, dirty and disheveled, like a weathered stray cat.

Qian Shuyun fetched a hot towel and gently wiped his face clean.

Against the cold whiteness, the wound on his forehead looked even more shocking.

Pressing a cotton swab against it, Qian Shuyun’s hand trembled slightly. He dabbed twice and dared not touch it further. “Does it hurt?”

Xie Jixing shook his head.

Qian Shuyun frowned, cleaned the surrounding dirt, and applied medicine.

It would inevitably hurt a bit, but Xie Jixing kept his brows lowered and didn’t utter a sound.

After the treatment, Qian Shuyun’s frown deepened. He gently cupped Xie Jixing’s face. “Xingxing, look at me.”

Xie Jixing’s eyelashes twitched a few times. He looked up at him, but his eyes were filled with suppressed emptiness.

“Cry.” Qian Shuyun softly stroked his slightly reddened eyelids. “Xingxing, let it out.”

Xie Jixing stared at him, shaking his head after a long pause. “I can’t.”

That wouldn’t do.

Bottling up so many emotions would destroy him.

Qian Shuyun circled him in his arms. “I’ll help you cry.”

Warm hands moved along his slightly cold body.

When they reached his lower abdomen, Xie Jixing flinched at the heat.

He seemed to understand what Qian Shuyun meant—helping him cry would be done in this way.

Warm, dry lips lightly kissed his ear and cheek; the hand continued downward.

Even with his combat strength, Xie Jixing went weak and couldn’t resist.

The van was sealed, with anti-peep film on the windows, but outside, staff laughter and chatter drifted in faintly.

Tension, embarrassment, and long-suppressed emotions intertwined—and finally erupted.

Xie Jixing curled in on himself, pressing down the hand that had already gone too far.

Tears streamed down uncontrollably.

He was crying.

That was enough.

Qian Shuyun withdrew his hand and wrapped him, helping him along his back.

Xie Jixing cried harder, even making sounds.

The hot towel gently wiped away his tears, but he felt even more wronged.

“You’re mean to me!” Xie Jixing began to protest, sniffling.

Qian Shuyun immediately soothed him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be mean.”

That made Xie Jixing lose control even more.

“You’re not comforting me! You always comforted me before! Don’t you like me?!”

“Before, you ignored me, didn’t come home!”

By all that’s holy, weren’t you the one who said we wouldn’t talk?!

Qian Shuyun’s frown softened. The little star mumbling and sulking was just too cute.

With a smile, he continued coaxing, “Yes, it’s all my fault! Next time, if Xie Jixing says no talking, I’ll stick to you, cling hard.”

Xie Jixing wiped his nose with his hand, running out of things to complain about, so he went unreasonable: “You even fed me bitter melon!”

The ultimate grievance!

Qian Shuyun laughed and handed him a warm cup of water.

“Next time, I’ll eat a whole plate of bitter melon, okay?”

After crying, Xie Jixing felt much better.

This little tantrum pulled him out of Zhang Xianhai’s tragedy and back to being Xie Jixing.

But now he felt a little embarrassed.

What had he been doing? Crying and fussing, even complaining about bitter melon.

He rolled his eyes and murmured, “Put me down… are we filming later?”

Qian Shuyun set him on the van’s small bed. “No more filming, we’re off. Tomorrow we’ll have Master and Mr. Song over for hotpot. Sleep a bit first; we’re going home.”

He placed a gentle kiss next to the wound and covered Xie Jixing with a small blanket.

After the emotional release, people get tired easily. Coupled with Xie Jixing’s embarrassment, he closed his eyes to pretend to sleep—and quickly fell asleep.

He had been trapped in emotional turbulence for several days and hadn’t slept well at night.

This sleep was deep; when they arrived home, Xie Jixing hadn’t even woken up.

When he finally woke, he found himself lying on the sofa, the room filled with aromas.

Rubbing his slightly swollen eyes, he sat up. Qian Shuyun was nearby, reviewing footage on his laptop.

The cold, stern director persona reappeared.

Xie Jixing blinked in confusion. Qian Shuyun noticed he had woken.

His cold expression immediately softened, smiling at him. “You’re awake? Aunt Wang made you some wontons tonight. Come eat.”

Xie Jixing felt weak all over and reached for him.

Qian Shuyun closed the laptop and half-lifted, half-carried him up.

By the time Xie Jixing washed his face and came out, the table was set with steaming wontons and small buns.

He hadn’t eaten properly at lunch and was truly hungry. He stuffed a small, oil-glazed bun into his mouth.

“Eat slowly,” Qian Shuyun helped cool the wonton soup. “What do you want for hotpot tomorrow?”

“Really eating hotpot?” Xie Jixing wondered if Qian Shuyun was just saying that to cheer him up.

Filming was at its most intense stage; suddenly relaxing at home for hotpot felt surreal.

But when he actually saw Xie Zhi’ning and Song Chu sitting in the restaurant, the last bit of suppressed emotion in Xie Jixing’s heart completely dissipated.

“If you keep this up, don’t bother acting anymore,” Song Chu said, staring at the still-swollen red mark on his forehead, his tone sharp.

Xie Zhi’ning also stroked his beard. “You need to watch what you eat, or this will leave a scar.”

“Today we’re having hotpot. You should stick to herbal dishes.”

After taking a scolding, Xie Jixing glared at Qian Shuyun, who was preparing the ingredients, and whispered through gritted teeth, “Did you do this on purpose?”

Qian Shuyun brought over a plate of freshly sliced beef rolls. “I just can’t bring myself to punish you, someone has to keep you in check.”

He gently touched the wound on Xie Jixing’s forehead. Although the swelling had subsided somewhat, it still looked painful.

“Next time, I’ll get Master and Mr. Song involved.”

In the end, Xie Jixing could only eat the bland, tasteless clear soup while drooling at the rich, spicy beef oil hotpot next to him.

Not only that, he was forced to drink a bowl of herbal concoction.

Though the holiday was short, Xie Jixing’s mindset was completely reset.

When he appeared on set again, he had become the smiling, cheerful Teacher Xie once more.

His performance state also adjusted; during the subsequent alley battle scenes, with lots of fighting, parkour, and gunplay, he performed smoothly.

Zhang Xianhai’s solo scenes quickly reached the final climactic scene—the one where he was going to blow up the arms depot.

“I’m a bit unsure about the emotional tone for this scene,” Xie Jixing muttered while touching up his makeup, the script in his hands densely written and color-coded.

This time, Qian Shuyun didn’t instruct him on the acting but asked, “When you decided to draw out the Yin Fire before, what were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything at all,” Xie Jixing recalled for a moment.

“I just thought, this fire of mine is the strongest. I must burn it thoroughly!”

He rubbed his nose, feeling a little embarrassed, and looked at Qian Shuyun. “A bit cheesy, isn’t it?”

“Just act with that energy,” Qian Shuyun encouraged, ruffling his hair. “You know Zhang Xianhai best. Trust yourself.”

When Zhang Xianhai lit the fuse for the explosives, a smile spread across his face.

It was pure and unrestrained, with no trace of bitterness—only the exhilaration of avenging a great injustice.

This starkly contrasted with the tragic act of sacrificing himself to blow up the arms depot, creating a very powerful effect.

“Cut! Got it!”

Thus, Zhang Xianhai’s solo scenes were complete.

Behind the monitors, Meng Zezhou, who had just reported for duty, could already imagine how much emotion the scene would evoke with a fitting soundtrack in post-production.

His adoptive father—no, now probably his brother-in-law.

Why has his acting improved so quickly?

Could the secret be dating a movie emperor?