Chapter 12 The Silent Confrontation Between Two Men

The afternoon sunlight streamed through the antique window frames, casting mottled patterns across the film set.

Lu Er had just finished a dramatic scene and was sitting in a lounge chair, eyes closed, resting.

“Brother Lu, you’ve worked hard.”

Cong Jinyue approached, carrying two cups of coffee, handing one to Lu Er.

The young man in front of him had delicate features; when he smiled, the corners of his eyes curved slightly. Two small dimples graced his cheeks, exuding the vitality unique to youth.

A very handsome boy—hard not to like him.

Lu Er accepted the cup politely. “Thank you.”

Although Cong Jinyue’s team sometimes tried to ride the wave of Lu Er’s popularity, Jinyue himself was humble and courteous, and he put genuine effort into acting.

Moreover, their scenes together were executed smoothly. Lu Er appreciated people who took their work seriously, so his impression of Cong Jinyue was fairly positive.

“I’m a bit nervous about the next action scene,” Cong Jinyue said as he sat on a nearby chair, his tone apologetic. “If I can’t get it right in one take, I’ll drag you into overtime too.”

“Relax. Don’t be too nervous,” Lu Er comforted him gently. “It’s okay if it doesn’t work the first time.”

Cong Jinyue nodded seriously, his gaze at Lu Er full of unhidden admiration.

Initially, it had been his manager’s idea to get him to interact more with Lu Er, but after these days together, he was genuinely attracted.

Professional, calm, humble, low-key—so different from the hollow reputations of many in the industry.

Since it was a dual-male-lead drama, Cong Jinyue’s team often posted behind-the-scenes footage of their off-camera interactions online.

These carefully edited videos caused quite a stir. Fans of Lu Er had mixed reactions—some enjoyed it, others disliked what they saw as attention-seeking.

Lu Er’s manager, Jiang Qingyan, thought the exposure was more beneficial than harmful, so he didn’t intervene.

That decision inadvertently gave Cong Jinyue the wrong impression, making him think Lu Er felt something special toward him.

So, both on-screen and off, he constantly called him “Brother,” his dependence and closeness almost spilling over.

Lu Er merely saw it as the admiration of a younger colleague, giving it no further thought.

That evening.

The night scene involved the two leads chasing a culprit on a rooftop. The entire action sequence was complex, requiring wire-assisted stunts for a series of high-difficulty maneuvers.

“Ready!” the director’s voice came through the loudspeaker.

Lu Er and Cong Jinyue were both harnessed onto wires, positioned on the constructed rooftop set.

The night was hazy, the lights outlining their figures distinctly.

“Action!”

According to the script, Lu Er had to perform a backflip landing—a high-difficulty stunt.

As he soared into the air, a sudden “crack” rang out.

The sharp sound of breaking steel pierced the night—the main cable connecting Lu Er’s harness to the rig had snapped.

“Watch out!”

In a flash, Lu Er lost control and began to fall. He caught sight of Cong Jinyue below.

Without thinking, he braced his core, twisted mid-air, and with all his strength pushed Cong Jinyue toward the safe zone.

“Bang!”

A heavy impact sounded.

Lu Er’s back and head slammed against a hard prop, pain radiating instantly throughout his body.

Warm liquid trickled down his temple, blurring his vision.

“Go… Kangren,” Lu Er muttered through gritted teeth.

He didn’t even know why, but at the edge of unconsciousness, the first thought that came to him was Song Jingmo.

The set instantly erupted into chaos.

Ambulance sirens pierced the night, followed closely by paparazzi vehicles swarming after them.

By the time they reached Kangren Hospital, the emergency entrance was already jammed with media and fans.

“Doctor!” Jiang Qingyan’s hoarse voice shouted as he rushed into the ER.

The duty nurse, recognizing that the patient on the stretcher was top star Lu Er, was even more startled and quickly notified her superior.

Song Jingmo had just finished a surgery when a nurse ran over hurriedly: “Doctor Song, there’s a critical patient in the ER—a big star, Lu Er. He fell off a wire during filming. The ER requested an urgent consultation from our department.”

Lu Er?

Song Jingmo’s heart clenched sharply. The water running over his hands froze mid-motion.

Almost without thinking, he turned off the faucet and, without even fully drying his hands, rushed toward the ER. His usual calm and composure vanished, replaced by unmistakable anxiety.

His colleagues assisting in surgery were stunned—they had never seen Song Jingmo lose his composure like this.

In the ER, Lu Er lay on the bed, covered in blood. Pain twisted his brow, cold sweat pouring down.

“Step aside,” Song Jingmo said, approaching.

His gaze immediately locked on Lu Er’s pale, pained face. His heart felt as though it had been violently grabbed.

“How’s the condition?”

Song Jingmo’s voice carried a barely noticeable hoarseness. As he listened to the doctors’ reports, he checked Lu Er himself—efficient, professional, rapid.

In a haze, Lu Er caught the familiar, comforting scent of cedar. He struggled to open his eyes.

Weakly, he moved his lips, trying to speak, but no sound came out.

“Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Professional instinct immediately restored Song Jingmo’s composure. “Open the green channel. Prepare for emergency surgery. Notify neurosurgery, orthopedics, and anesthesia chiefs.”

His decisive command instantly stabilized the chaotic scene. The medical staff quickly wheeled Lu Er toward the OR.

Outside, Jiang Qingyan and Bai Zhi paced anxiously.

Cong Jinyue also stood there, face pale, tears still streaked across his cheeks.

Several hours later, the OR doors finally opened.

The lead surgeon removed his mask, weary but relieved: “Surgery was successful. Fortunately, no major nerves or blood vessels were affected.”

“The main injuries are severe muscle and ligament tears, mild concussion, and significant blood loss. He needs hospitalization for observation.”

Glancing at Song Jingmo, he added: “Thanks to Doctor Song’s cooperation, we can now transfer him to your orthopedics department.”

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Lu Er was taken to a VIP ward, still under anesthesia, sleeping quietly.

The image of him covered in blood moments ago lingered in Song Jingmo’s mind. The injuries he saw during surgery still made his heart ache.

At that moment, everything from six years ago could be forgiven.

That chaotic night, the insulting bank card, the deliberate distance over the years…

All the knots in his heart were released.

Compared to Lu Er’s safety, past grudges were trivial.

He only wanted to protect this person, leaving no regrets.

Song Jingmo’s fingers twitched. Eventually, he could not resist and gently brushed aside the sweat-dampened strands of hair on Lu Er’s forehead.

At that moment, the ward door opened.

Cong Jinyue entered, carrying a suitcase, eyes red and swollen, guilt written all over his face:

“Doctor Song, Lu Er was injured saving me. I’m staying to take care of him until he recovers.”

Song Jingmo straightened up, his gaze meeting Cong Jinyue’s.