Chapter 27 Did You Come Back to the Country Because of Him?

S City had no distinct seasons—by March, it was already oppressively hot, and the film set felt like a steaming sauna.

It had been a full month since Lu Er last had a meal with Song Jingmo.

At first, Lu Er would still share amusing things from the set, but Song Jingmo often replied only hours later, and his responses were extremely brief.

After waiting for so long, Lu Er lost the urge to share and stopped reaching out.

“Cut! Great, take a half-hour break and then continue,” the director’s voice came through the speaker.

Lu Er slipped into the tent in the rest area.

His white shirt was soaked with sweat, clinging to his body and outlining a graceful waist.

The oppressive heat made him feel as if he were being steamed alive; a faint flush spread from his cheeks to his neck, and a few strands of damp hair stuck to his forehead, looking fragile yet enticing.

Cong Jinyue followed him into the tent, his gaze glued to Lu Er.

Since being rejected the last time he confessed, he hadn’t given up; instead, he became even more determined to find opportunities to get close to Lu Er.

“Brother Lu, have some water.”

Cong Jinyue handed him a bottle of ice water, his eyes lingering on Lu Er’s sweat-drenched neck.

Lu Er gave a perfunctory thanks and lowered his head to scroll through his phone.

The chat with Song Jingmo still showed messages from three weeks ago; the last message was from him: “Injured on set,” and Song Jingmo only replied the next day: “Be careful.”

He hadn’t asked where he was hurt or whether it was serious.

“Brother Lu,” Cong Jinyue leaned closer, voice filled with grievance, “you haven’t replied to me for a month.”

Goosebumps rose on Lu Er’s arms. “Busy filming.”

“Really?” Cong Jinyue’s eyes seemed predatory as he grabbed Lu Er’s wrist. “You’re clearly avoiding me.”

“Let go.” Lu Er’s face turned cold.

Instead of letting go, Cong Jinyue leaned closer, his gaze lingering on Lu Er’s slightly pink lips. “I miss you so much.”

Before finishing his words, he suddenly lunged forward, attempting to kiss Lu Er forcibly.

“Are you f***ing crazy? Get the hell away!”

Lu Er dodged back, breaking free. In a panic, he swung a punch with all his strength, striking Cong Jinyue’s nose.

Cong Jinyue screamed in pain, holding his bleeding nose and falling backward, knocking over a nearby small table.

“What happened?”

Crew members rushed over and saw Cong Jinyue’s bloodied face and Lu Er standing nearby with an ashen expression.

A fan hiding nearby captured the scene on camera.

Within ten minutes, “Lu Er assaults rookie on set” became a trending topic.

Although the video was blurry, it clearly showed Lu Er punching Cong Jinyue.

Since Lu Er was the only one who struck, public opinion almost unanimously condemned him for being arrogant and bullying a newcomer.

Some even speculated that Lu Er was homosexual, claiming he tried to make a move using his senior status, and when rejected, became violent out of shame.

For a time, online criticism raged uncontrollably.

Lu Er’s Weibo comment section was overwhelmed; even old stories from six years ago about him leaving medicine for entertainment were dredged up for ridicule.

The crew had to pause filming and send both Lu Er and Cong Jinyue back to the hotel to rest.

Seeing the overwhelming online backlash, Lu Er felt powerless.

Ms. Leng sent him a WeChat message asking for an explanation and whether he had really done such a shameless thing.

His elder brother said that if he was willing to quit the entertainment industry, he would handle all of this for him.

Only his sister-in-law comforted him.

Feeling inexplicably lonely, Lu Er called Song Jingmo.

“Hello?” Song Jingmo’s voice was calm as ever.

Hearing the familiar voice, Lu Er’s frustration surged: “I want to go home.”

“Okay.” Song Jingmo asked, “When does your flight arrive? I’ll pick you up.”

Tears almost fell from Lu Er’s eyes.

Even during his one-sided cold war, Song Jingmo still extended his hands without hesitation whenever Lu Er needed him.

At the airport pickup point, Song Jingmo immediately spotted the fully geared Lu Er.

Even with sunglasses and a mask, he could instantly recognize him in the crowd.

Seeing Song Jingmo, Lu Er quickened his pace and practically leaped into his arms.

“It’s okay now.” Gently patting his back, Song Jingmo’s tone was unusually tender.

On the way back, Lu Er took the initiative to explain what happened on set.

“He suddenly tried to kiss me. It was disgusting. I was startled and reacted. I didn’t mean to hit him—it was just reflex,” Lu Er said, feeling wronged.

“I don’t blame you. He deserved it,” Song Jingmo’s brows furrowed slightly. “Does he often harass you like this?”

“No, it was sudden—he lost his mind.”

Song Jingmo looked at Lu Er’s reddened hand. “Does your wrist still hurt?”

“A little.”

“Let’s go to the hospital and get an X-ray.” Song Jingmo turned the car.

Looking at Song Jingmo’s calm profile, Lu Er’s grievance and unease gradually faded.

At Kangren Hospital, Song Jingmo took Lu Er to radiology.

While waiting for the results, a young man in a white coat approached.

“Back again so soon?” His almond-shaped eyes swept over Lu Er with lingering interest.

Song Jingmo said, “Brought a friend for a checkup.”

Liao Xubai’s gaze landed on Lu Er, and a mocking smile curved his lips: “Isn’t this the big celebrity who left medicine for entertainment?”

Lu Er felt uneasy from Liao Xubai’s hostility but simply lowered his head and obediently followed Song Jingmo.

“This is Liao Xubai,” Song Jingmo briefly introduced.

“We know each other,” Liao Xubai chuckled lightly. “Famous deadbeat from A University Medical School.”

The ridicule made Lu Er so embarrassed he could have sunk through the floor.

Liao Xubai had been Song Jingmo’s classmate and had disliked him from the start. Years later, nothing had changed—he was still targeting him.

Lu Er gritted his teeth. “Dr. Liao has a good memory.”

“After all, you only barely passed thanks to Jingmo.”

Liao Xubai patted Song Jingmo’s shoulder affectionately. “Jingmo, you’re patient and don’t mind his stupidity, helping him catch up, or he wouldn’t have graduated.”

Song Jingmo frowned, calmly avoiding Liao Xubai’s hand. “Are you that bored?”

Liao Xubai seemed not to hear and leaned in to look at the X-ray: “Slight fracture, just needs a cast. Let the intern handle minor stuff; no need to waste time.”

“You talk too much,” Song Jingmo said coldly.

Lu Er, feeling backed up, watched with schadenfreude.

Liao Xubai shrugged and, before leaving, reminded Song Jingmo: “I’ll discuss tomorrow’s surgery plan with you later.”

On the way back, Lu Er remained silent.

The tacit understanding between Liao Xubai and Song Jingmo made him uncomfortable.

Their professional discussion of patients, the unspoken rapport, and Liao Xubai’s intimate gestures toward Song Jingmo…

“Are you close with Liao Xubai?”

“Classmates from undergrad to PhD,” Song Jingmo focused on the road. “He’s very capable professionally.”

Lu Er’s heart sank.

So that was why Song Jingmo had been slow to reply for the past month—because he had a friend like Liao Xubai, someone to talk to both professionally and personally?

After dropping Lu Er at the villa, Song Jingmo carefully went over precautions.

Lu Er couldn’t help but ask, “Have you been busy this past month?”

“Not really, same as before.”

Lu Er lowered his head, hiding his disappointment.

Song Jingmo returned to the hospital after sending him off.

“Back so soon?”

Song Jingmo’s expression was unreadable. “Got business to attend to.”

“You’re still the same—especially anxious when it comes to Lu Er.”

Liao Xubai stood up and slowly walked in front of Song Jingmo. “I’m curious—does he know what you feel for him?”

Song Jingmo’s gaze suddenly turned cold: “None of your business.”

“How is it not my business?” Liao Xubai chuckled. “Did you come back to the country because of him?”

Song Jingmo pointed to the door. “If you have nothing else, leave.”

Liao Xubai didn’t get angry: “I came back for you.”