Chapter 47: The Silver-Haired Villain

This statement might be an exaggeration, but Pei Liu was absolutely one of them. He used to watch anime and really liked white-haired characters. In reality, it might seem a bit too anime-esque, but as long as the face was good, they could pull off anything.

The man in front of him was a prime example. That head of silver hair made his already striking appearance even more captivating, as if a 2D character had walked out into the real world.

Pei Liu was momentarily dazed, his heartbeat quickening. It took him a few seconds to react, “I’m sorry, are you the actor playing Shen Wenrui?”

The man nodded slightly, his silver hair cascading down, and Pei Liu’s gaze unconsciously followed it.

“Yes, my name is Shen Jin.”

His voice was like pearls colliding—deep and pleasant to the ear.

Pei Liu also introduced himself politely, “I’m Pei Liu, playing Yu Chu.”

At the same time, he extended his hand to shake the other’s.

The other’s hand was large, fingers long and bony, almost completely enveloping Pei Liu’s hand. His skin was an unnatural, chilly white, and Pei Liu’s fingertips could feel the faint blue veins protruding on the back of his hand.

The handshake lasted a bit longer than the usual two seconds, but Pei Liu was too captivated by the beautiful silver hair to notice.

After letting go, Pei Liu realized Qin Wu had been completely silent. He turned his head, preparing to tap his arm as a reminder. Qin Wu gave a jolt, hastily greeted Shen Jin, and then said to Pei Liu, “Let’s go get our makeup done quickly.”

Shen Jin: “If you don’t mind, could I join you? I don’t know anyone here.”

The dressing room was Qin Wu’s; Pei Liu couldn’t make the decision.

Qin Wu frowned imperceptibly, “Are you all set?”

Shen Jin smiled: “Yes, my hair is naturally like this, which saves a lot of trouble, and a light makeup look is pretty quick.”

Hearing the word “naturally,” Pei Liu couldn’t help but take a few more glances. He had thought the silver hair looked incredibly natural, not at all dyed.

Is he mixed race?

He had received news a week ago about minor script revisions: the villain would be given long silver-white hair and gray-blue eyes to make his character more distinct and memorable. This was an idea Director Chen suddenly had after the auditions for the villain.

At first, Pei Liu found it a bit strange, but seeing the actor in person, he understood. Dyeing this head of silver hair black would truly be a waste of a natural gift.

Since he had said this, Qin Wu had no reason to refuse and could only let Shen Jin join them.

Pei Liu was excited and kept stealing glances at Shen Jin. The other noticed and turned his head to meet his gaze.

Pei Liu smiled, a bit embarrassed, “Your hair is very beautiful, like an elf.”

Shen Jin slightly narrowed his eyes, “Thank you, it’s an honor.”

This noble demeanor made him seem even more like one.

Pei Liu’s favorable impression of him skyrocketed, and his steps became lighter. Qin Wu, watching from the side, couldn’t relax at all. He keenly sensed Pei Liu’s liking for Shen Jin and instantly became highly vigilant. This won’t do! The god’s beloved is going to like someone else!

Throughout the entire costume-fitting process, Qin Wu had to divide his attention to keep an eye on Pei Liu and Shen Jin, worried they would get too close. Fortunately, his professionalism was solid, or else the photographer would have exploded with frustration over his lack of focus.

Little Tian obediently followed Pei Liu the entire time like a little tail, watching all these new and unseen things with great interest.

Occasionally, when no one was looking, Pei Liu would pat Little Tian’s head or ruffle the fluffy Shiba Inu.

At these times, Little Tian would feel a gaze sweep across her back, as if someone could see her. She instinctively bristled and immediately looked back, only to find nothing.

On the day of the opening ceremony, everything followed the established routine.

Worshipping gods and burning incense were mandatory.

Pei Liu’s face was full of devotion, and he took it very seriously. Ghosts truly existed, so gods very likely did too; how could he not hold reverence in his heart?

A sneer came from beside him.

After finishing what he needed to do, Pei Liu opened his eyes and turned toward the sound. It was the actor playing the fourth male lead, Lu Xiang, who was somewhat famous. He had originally auditioned for the role of Yu Chu, fully confident he’d get it, but unexpectedly, Pei Liu got the role in the end.

Before coming, Sister Yu had warned Pei Liu to be careful, lest this petty person trip him up on set.

Thus, Pei Liu ignored him, pretending not to see him.

But Lu Xiang had no intention of letting it go, saying disdainfully: “You weren’t praying to the gods for fame just now, were you? Feudal superstition. With your terrible acting, even the gods can’t save you.”

Pei Liu turned to leave.

Lu Xiang followed closely, continuing his vicious sarcasm: “What? Did I hit a sore spot? Feeling guilty? How could someone of your level get this role? You definitely used some underhanded methods, relying on a sugar daddy. Disgusting.”

Pei Liu didn’t expect him to be so foul-mouthed and couldn’t help but frown. He then immediately looked at Little Tian, wanting to cover her ears; children shouldn’t hear such things.

Little Tian couldn’t understand the words, but children are sensitive and could guess from the tone and expression that it wasn’t anything good. How could the dad she found be bullied? Without a second thought, she delivered a forceful kick. Da Huang also barked and charged forward, biting Lu Xiang’s leg.

Lu Xiang suddenly his hair stood on end, a sharp pain shot through his leg, and unable to stand steady, he fell to his knees with a loud thud, directly facing Pei Liu.

Pei Liu looked surprised, using a voice only the two of them could hear: “No need for such a grand gesture, please rise.”

Lu Xiang’s face turned green, his expression twisting for a moment. He was about to blame Pei Liu, claiming he pushed him.

But Pei Liu reacted faster and spoke loudly: “Senior Lu, I know my acting isn’t good enough and I have a lot to learn, but how could you falsely accuse the director of taking money to choose me? Director Chen is fair and just… Ah, you don’t need to kneel to apologize to me, get up quickly.”

Saying this, Pei Liu hurriedly went to help him up.

Seeing this scene and recalling Lu Xiang’s usual behavior, the others couldn’t possibly misunderstand.

Director Chen said calmly: “Where is Lu Xiang’s assistant?”

A chubby man immediately ran over, struggling to help Lu Xiang up.

The matter was brushed past. Director Chen had a few words with Pei Liu, telling him to focus on acting and ignore others.

Pei Liu nodded, turned, and walked back. Seeing Little Tian looking up at him, begging for praise, he couldn’t help but smile and pat her head: “Thank you.”

Da Huang let out an awoo, then also got his ears ruffled, thoroughly satisfied.

People in this country value good beginnings, believing a good start leads to a smooth journey. Therefore, Director Chen first shot a scene featuring the Best Actor, the male and female leads meeting.

Pei Liu observed from the sidelines for the time being. Qin Wu was a Best Actor with polished skills, so he could learn a lot of useful things from watching him.

While he was watching intently, a figure walked over and sat down beside him.

Little Tian hugged his leg and whispered: “Dad, someone is looking at you.”

Pei Liu snapped back to reality, looked beside him, and smiled as he greeted Shen Jin.

Qin Wu was acting in a scene where a relative had passed away. The sorrow in his eyes layered gradually—authentic, not exaggerated, and highly infectious, making viewers empathize and feel sad along with him, their eyes reddening.

Pei Liu couldn’t help but praise: “As expected of a Best Actor, his acting is so good.”

Shen Jin, who was also watching, gave an indifferent “mhm” upon hearing this, his expression casual.

His silver hair cascaded down. Sitting close to Pei Liu, a strand of hair inadvertently brushed against the back of Pei Liu’s hand, causing a slight tickle like a feather.

Pei Liu’s gaze involuntarily drifted to his hand, almost wanting to grab that strand of silver hair.

“Want to rehearse our lines? We have a lot of scenes together, so we probably need to get in sync,” Shen Jin said calmly and naturally, as if harboring no other thoughts.

Pei Liu had thought of this before, so he nodded without hesitation.

“This isn’t a suitable place. Let’s find a quiet spot,” Shen Jin said.

So Pei Liu left with him. Qin Wu, completely focused on filming, remained oblivious.

They went to Qin Wu’s personal dressing room. Originally, they wanted to find an empty lounge, but others were also rehearsing. When Qin Wu’s assistant found out, he enthusiastically led them there, adding: “Brother Wu said Teacher Pei can use his dressing room anytime. If you don’t use it, Brother Wu will definitely scold me later.”

Therefore, the assistant considerately closed the door, leaving only Pei Liu and Shen Jin alone in the dressing room.

Shen Jin asked: “Which scene do you want to rehearse?”

Pei Liu: “Any is fine.”

Shen Jin looked down at his script: “Something with strong tension is better for breaking the ice… What do you think about this scene?”

Pei Liu leaned over to look. It was the scene where Yu Chu notices something is wrong, starts suspecting Shen Wenrui, and plans to secretly call the police, but is caught in the act by Shen Wenrui and drugged unconscious. This was the crucial turning point marking Yu Chu’s descent into the dark abyss. A complex mix of hesitation, tension, and fear was involved. Pei Liu had practiced it alone many times before but always felt it was a bit stiff. Rehearsing with the actual villain actor should provide a different perspective.

“Okay.”

Pei Liu nodded. He remembered the lines perfectly and didn’t need the script; what mattered was brewing the right emotions.

He took a deep breath, imagined the scenario, and immersed himself in the character of Yu Chu, his face gradually displaying struggle, hesitation, and fear.

Finally, he took out his phone, dialed 110, and just as he was about to make the call, a pale hand suddenly reached out from behind and snatched his phone away.

His back pressed against a familiar chest. Hair carrying a chill fell down, brushing his neck and collarbone like intertwining vines. A hand gripped his neck, making him tremble uncontrollably, his eyes widening in terror.

A soft chuckle sounded right by his ear.

A sharp pain on the side of his neck—icy liquid injected into his veins. His body went weak and limp, slowly collapsing, but a strong pair of hands caught his waist, stopping his fall.

Yu Chu’s eyes lost focus. He struggled to open them, meeting those gray-blue eyes, cold and dangerous.

Shen Wenrui laughed, his fingertips gently caressing his face. His voice was deep and viscous, like a cold, venomous snake flicking its tongue, slowly crawling down his spine—horrifying and scalp-numbing.

“So disobedient. Why would you betray me? You are my most beloved creation.”

Half of his face was hidden in darkness, his tone gentle yet twisted, like the whispers between lovers, extremely disturbing.

Yu Chu’s fear intensified, his breathing erratic, as if he would suffocate in the next second. Even under the influence of the drug, he mustered his last ounce of strength, trying to struggle and escape.

But no matter how hard he tried, he only managed to pull away slightly before being yanked back again.

The corners of Shen Wenrui’s mouth curled up in a soft smile. But in the next second, the smile vanished entirely, his expression turning icy cold like an enraged demon. He lowered his head and abruptly bit down on his ear, as if trying to tear off a piece of flesh, wishing he could swallow the person in his arms whole.

The aura was incredibly terrifying, but what Pei Liu actually felt was his ear enveloped in a wet heat, scalding breath inching across his skin—not biting, but more like sucking and kissing. His wrist was also forcefully restrained, making it difficult to move.

Pei Liu never knew his ears were so sensitive; for a moment, half his body went numb, trembling slightly. Tens of seconds later, his eyelashes fluttered, he let out a muffled groan, finally regaining his thoughts, and reached out to push him away, “…Wait, let me go first.”

His voice was hoarse, carrying a faint, fragile tremor.

Shen Jin didn’t stop him and obediently let go.

The drug injection was just acting, merely a motion, but when Pei Liu tried to stand up straight, his legs genuinely felt a bit weak, and he stumbled.

Shen Jin reached out to support him.

Pei Liu thanked him awkwardly, then picked up his script and said: “The original novel has an ear-biting scene, but Director Chen felt it was unnecessary and deleted it.”

Shen Jin was somewhat surprised: “Deleted?”

Shen Jin flipped open his own script and pointed it out to Pei Liu.

The description of ear-biting was clearly printed there.

Seeing this, Pei Liu wore an ‘I knew it’ expression: “It might have been an oversight. You can ask for a new script. For various reasons, what gets filmed always differs somewhat from the original.”

Shen Jin nodded calmly, then grabbed a tissue and asked: “I’m sorry, let me wipe that for you.”

Hearing this, Pei Liu couldn’t help but recall what had just happened, his ear still retaining the strange sensation, his scalp prickling.

“No need, I’ll do it myself.” He took the tissue and quickly, haphazardly wiped his ear a couple of times.

Shen Jin stared at him, reminding him: “There’s still a little bit. You can’t see it, let me help you.”

Having refused once, refusing again seemed somewhat unreasonable, as if he despised the other person.

Pei Liu met his elf-like, surreal face, those gray-blue eyes like whirlpools capable of sucking a person in.

He nodded instinctively.

Shen Jin took a wet wipe, covered his ear, and wiped it slowly and meticulously, almost like he was kneading it.

The atmosphere was indescribably bizarre.

Pei Liu began to regret letting him help.

When he finally let go, Pei Liu couldn’t help but secretly breathe a sigh of relief.

Just then, a knock came from the door.

The assistant said: “Teacher Pei, are you ready? It’s almost your turn to shoot.”

Pei Liu feigned composure, responded, checked the mirror, and then walked out.

Little Tian and Da Huang were crouching by the wall watching ants. Hearing Pei Liu come out, she immediately ran over, asking eagerly: “Is it Dad’s turn to film?!”

Pei Liu suddenly felt very glad he had chosen to let Little Tian wait outside before rehearsing with Shen Jin. That was clearly not a scene suitable for a child to watch. Thinking of this, he regretted agreeing to bring Little Tian along. Even though she was a ghost, she was still a child, and suspenseful crime thrillers were not suitable for children.

When Qin Wu came looking for them, this was the scene he saw.

Pei Liu and Shen Jin walked out of the dressing room one after the other. Pei Liu’s hair was slightly messy, his clothes had a few more wrinkles, and his ears bore an unusual light red hue. Shen Jin’s gaze was undisguised, falling straight onto Pei Liu.

There was a very subtle aura between the two of them; something he didn’t know about had definitely happened.

Damn it, is the god wearing a green hat now?