Chapter 42: The Rose He Painted for Him

Tan Yiyang felt his performance yesterday wasn’t good enough and wanted to make up for it, so he volunteered to make breakfast. He prepared simple, nutritious egg and ham sandwiches, brought out fruit oatmeal and milk, and washed the bowls and spoons.

When Yan Xuehui and the others came down and saw him busy preparing at the kitchen island, they all praised him for being considerate.

Ling Ke looked surprised: “Are Qin Wu and Pei Liu not awake yet?”

Although it wasn’t late, the production team was going to announce today’s activities. Tan Yiyang said: “I’ll go wake them up.”

A staff member requested: “If they’re awake, tell them to turn the cameras back on.”

Tan Yiyang nodded and headed upstairs.

He knocked on the door first but received no response.

Tan Yiyang slowly turned the doorknob, stepped inside quietly, and was just about to wake them when he saw a scene he never expected.

Pei Liu and Qin Wu were sleeping in the same bed. Not only that, but Pei Liu was curled up in Qin Wu’s arms, pressed close together. Their four long legs sticking out from under the blanket were intertwined, inseparable.

They looked just like an intimate couple.

Tan Yiyang had never seen such a scene before and froze on the spot, completely forgetting what he came in for.

At that moment, Qin Wu opened his eyes, his dark pupils looking over indifferently.

Tan Yiyang’s hair immediately stood on end. He hurriedly whispered an explanation: “…The, the director sent a task and wants you to come down.”

Qin Wu nodded to show he understood, then pointed at the door, signaling him to leave first and that they would be down shortly.

Tan Yiyang instinctively obeyed, cautiously backed out of the room, and closed the door.

After walking a distance away, he finally breathed a slight sigh of relief, unable to help but think: Is this the oppressive aura of a Best Actor? Too terrifying. Going downstairs, he ran into Zhou Fei, who asked: “Are they up? Did you remind them to turn on the cameras?”

Tan Yiyang nodded, then shook his head.

Zhou Fei was confused: “What does that mean? Are they or aren’t they?”

Tan Yiyang sighed, saying complicatedly: “…It’s hard to explain.”

Zhou Fei seriously doubted his own ears. He and Tan Yiyang were only a few years apart in age, how had he already fallen behind to the point of not understanding what young people were saying?

Meanwhile, in the room.

After Tan Yiyang left, Pei Liu vaguely heard the noise and groggily woke up. Opening his eyes to see Qin Wu’s enlarged, handsome face, he blanked out for a moment before remembering last night’s events. Realizing he had unconsciously burrowed into the other man’s arms, he felt very embarrassed and thanked him again.

Qin Wu, however, didn’t mind at all, his expression calm.

Pei Liu checked the time, realized it was getting late, and hurriedly got up and ducked into the bathroom to wash.

Not long after, both of them had changed their clothes and gotten ready, heading downstairs together.

Pei Liu walked over to the dining table and sat down. Zhao Wen pushed a plate of sandwiches toward him and asked with concern: “Didn’t sleep well last night?”

Pei Liu, having just woken up, was still a bit sleepy and let out a yawn. Because he had rushed downstairs, his hair was slightly messy, with the ends curling up, giving him a natural, languid, youthful vibe that made hearts inexplicably flutter.

His voice slightly hoarse, he mumbled a reply: “Had a nightmare, but it was fine, I fell asleep in the second half of the night.”

“I see. Dreaming makes you sleepy, and nightmares make you even more exhausted. I’ve had that happen before,” Ling Ke chimed in, unable to keep her eyes off Pei Liu’s hair, where a single cowlick stood up, making her hands itch to pat it down.

Pei Liu nodded while eating his sandwich.

The next second, he suddenly felt his hair being pressed down.

He tilted his head to look and realized Zhou Fei had walked behind him and casually patted his head.

Zhou Fei said: “Your hair was sticking up, just looking at it made me want to press it down.”

“Oh, thanks.” Pei Liu looked up, instinctively reaching to touch his own hair, but unexpectedly bumped into another hand with distinct knuckles.

Pei Liu turned his head in slight confusion to look at Qin Wu beside him, as if asking what he was doing.

Qin Wu patted his head and said evenly: “Couldn’t resist.”

“Holy f*ck, head pats as soon as I tune in, a critical hit right to the screen!”
“I’m just a dog walking down the street minding my own business, and suddenly I get kicked.”
“Hahahahaha, do you want a few more kicks?”
“You’re late, it wasn’t just Qin Wu’s head pat; Brother Fei also patted Liu-liu’s head. Liu-liu is the true group pet!”
“You’re wrong about that. Brother Fei was clearly jealous because Wen-wen was concerned about Pei Liu, so he couldn’t help but press down his rival’s head. Straight guys are so childish.”
“And then Qin Wu got mad, thinking ‘I haven’t patted it yet,’ so he rubbed it too.”
“He even said he couldn’t resist. Couldn’t resist what exactly? Ho ho ho.”

The director’s arrangements for today had also been discussed beforehand. Dating shows are all about the romantic development between a few young men and women, making viewers blush, their hearts race, and getting them excited along with the cast. To firmly grasp the audience’s hearts, they naturally had to establish appealing personas with unique and likable personalities, which would earn bonus points for the romance. Thus, a talent show segment was indispensable.

Earlier, the female guests had all taken turns showing off their skills, earning plenty of admiration. Now it was the male guests’ turn to take the screen and attract attention.

Tan Yiyang, being a professional esports player, naturally live-streamed playing a game. His hand speed was lightning fast, his slender fingers becoming a blur. In his familiar territory, he looked completely different from his usual “little brother” persona. A sharp aggressiveness appeared between his brows, executing complex, high-end maneuvers continuously. Finally, even with underperforming teammates, he managed to turn the tide and secure a victory.

Female guests and the audience were all stunned. As he leaned back in his chair, the bullet comments filled the screen with “K God.”

“Holy shit, a 1v4 turnaround, is this the strength of a pro player? I’m completely amazed!”
“The female guests looked like they’d never seen anything like it, their eyes were wide open in admiration.”
“K God’s hands are so pretty, those hand-speed close-ups are too sexy!”
“Kek is staring intently at K God, she must be completely won over, turned into a little fan.”
“Qin Wu is sneaking peeks at Liu-liu again hehe.”
“I saw that too [creepy smile.jpg].”

Next was watching Zhou Fei swim.

Wearing only tight swim trunks, his strong, burly physique was on full display. His muscles bulged with power, bursting with testosterone, exuding strong masculinity. His athletic figure dove into the water, his solid arms slicing through the surface like an arrow, advancing at an astonishing speed.

The bullet comments were full of groundhog screams and screen-licking sounds.

When Zhou Fei got out of the pool and walked over, Zhao Wen surprisingly blushed.

Tan Yiyang looked at Zhou Fei’s bulging muscles, then looked at his own “white cut chicken” body. The contrast was tragically sharp, leaving him feeling deeply sorrowful.

Men always have a competitive spirit, and without realizing it, the scene turned into a muscle comparison.

“I saw an interview with Brother Qin. I remember you work out often, how many abs do you have?”

“Eight.”

“Really? Can we see?”

As soon as Tan Yiyang said this, the female guests all became interested, looking at Qin Wu simultaneously.

However, Qin Wu didn’t move, clearly not intending to lift his shirt to show them.

Zhou Fei even tried to goad him: “If you don’t show us, how will we know if it’s true? Maybe you’re just bluffing.”

But Qin Wu didn’t take the bait. Instead, he calmly lifted his eyes, glanced at Pei Liu, and said: “He knows, you can ask him.”

Everyone immediately turned their heads to look at Pei Liu in unison.

Someone asked: “What does this mean? Pei Liu has seen them?”

Pei Liu was just enjoying the show, never expecting the fire to suddenly spread to him. He had no choice but to say: “Last night when Qin Wu finished his shower, he came out wrapped in a towel, so I saw them. He really does have eight.”

“This happened last night?! Qin Wu wearing only a towel? I feel like I missed out on a billion bucks!”
“Tsk tsk, I knew there was a reason they turned off the cameras. They were definitely doing something shady.”
“I want to see so badly, and touch them too. Slurp~“
“Who doesn’t? I wish I could become that towel.”

After Pei Liu was teased for a bit, it was finally his turn.

He was very clear about his role: a tool to push the romantic developments forward. His goal wasn’t to actually attract a female guest, but to make the male guests feel threatened.

Therefore, he chose to play the piano piece Feux Follets (Will-o’-the-Wisp) to show off his skills.

He sat upright at the piano, his back straight, his hands resting lightly on the keys.

Then, he began to play.

His fair, slender fingers danced rapidly across the keys, crossing over each other, blurring into shadows, as if fast-forwarded at double speed, almost too fast for the naked eye to catch. The eerie staccato notes pounded against the listeners’ hearts, the melody shifting unpredictably, just like its namesake—an unsettling, erratic will-o’-the-wisp. Moreover, it felt as though it were layering, building continuously, until the final climax hit with the force of a tidal wave, overwhelming and awe-inspiring.

“Oh my god, is this even human? Just watching his fingers makes me feel like I’m going to cramp.”
“Is the entertainment industry this competitive now? With this level of skill, he could hold a concert, right? I’m an amateur, just speaking from feeling, don’t know the technicalities.”
“I’m a piano major and took an exam on this piece. It’s Liszt’s Transcendental Étude No. 5, famously devilish. Pei Liu played a few wrong notes, and it wasn’t light enough.”
“Wrong notes? If you can’t play it, don’t play it. Forcing yourself to show off only to be caught by professionals is so awkward and embarrassing.”
“Funny, you call this awkward and embarrassing? I wish I had this kind of skill to be embarrassed about. Please look up the difficulty of Feux Follets before barking when you don’t know anything.”
“It’s the piano major from before again. Don’t put words in my mouth, I never said Pei Liu played poorly. Everyone makes mistakes when playing piano, even masters. Not to mention Pei Liu isn’t a professional; playing it like this is already very impressive. Calling it showing off is correct, but you have to actually have the skill to show off.”
“To the person calling it embarrassing, carry your keyboard up there and play it yourself. What’s the point of hiding behind a screen? Heh.”

The bullet comments were right; Pei Liu was indeed attempting to show off his skills. He wasn’t very proficient with such a difficult piece and struggled a bit while playing. Towards the end, he was hesitating whether to stop, but once he started, he didn’t want to give up halfway and wanted to play it through completely.

At that moment, a wave of coldness struck his back, and an invisible chill covered the back of his hands.

His back went numb, and his fingers seemed to lose control, being guided along to finish the second half of the piece.

Immersed in the performance, Pei Liu didn’t react immediately. It was only after finishing that he realized, in hindsight, that something was wrong.

Enthusiastic applause broke out, and the guests gathered around, expressing admiration and praise.

But Pei Liu was more concerned about the ghost that might be behind him. Cold sweat seeped from his palms, and his body tensed.

The people around him showed no abnormal expressions; clearly, none of them could see it.

Pei Liu tried to maintain a calm facade, stealthily glancing back from the corner of his eye. He only caught a glimpse of a wisp of black mist, vine-like, gently curling around his wrist before shrinking back into the shadow beneath his feet, merging into it and disappearing completely.

…There’s a ghost hiding in his shadow?

Is it the ghost from the villa?

Did it follow him out?!

Pei Liu’s mind went blank, his body stiff, his heartbeat racing. It wasn’t until his gaze met Qin Wu’s among the crowd that his eyes lit up. He instinctively walked over to him, leaning on him dependently, their arms touching.

“What’s happening? What’s happening? The CP I ship is cuddling?!”
“Before it was always Qin Wu taking the initiative, finally it’s Liu-liu’s turn. I’m so happy!”
“That eager little gaze, looking like he’s begging for praise. Praise him quickly! I command you! A thousand words without repeating, praise him to the heavens!”

Only after touching the yang-energy-abundant Qin Wu did Pei Liu dare to relax a bit, feeling as though the ghost wouldn’t approach him this way.

Qin Wu tilted his head, glanced at him, and said: “Very impressive.”

His tone lacked inflection, but there was a barely noticeable trace of a smile in his eyes, as if he really liked Pei Liu’s performance, or perhaps, he really liked their duet.

Finally, it was Qin Wu’s turn.

As requested, the production team had prepared brushes, ink, and rice paper, laying them out one by one.

“Calligraphy? Traditional Chinese painting?”
“I thought they would show some classic scene Qin Wu acted in.”
“The Best Actor has this skill too? If he dares to show it off, it’s definitely not simple.”
“I want to see!”

Qin Wu held the brush, dipped it in ink, and painted unhurriedly. There was almost no hesitation or pausing; it was clear he had already thought it through and was confident, his brushstrokes guided by divine inspiration.

The other guests were very curious but also worried about disturbing him, so they just stood to the side, quietly peeking, not daring to make a sound.

The outline gradually appeared, becoming clearer and clearer. It was a bouquet of roses, arranged in an exquisite vase. Every petal was outlined, layered, vividly detailed, and lifelike, as if one could reach out and truly touch them.

The bullet comments were full of “Holy shit,” not knowing what else to say, only able to exclaim “Holy shit.”

Qin Wu stopped his brush, and everyone thought he was finished. But he looked up, glanced at the vase on the table not far away, and asked: “I’d like to take a few petals, may I?”

The flowers were brought by Pei Liu, so everyone instinctively looked at him; the decision was naturally his.

Pei Liu couldn’t possibly refuse such a minor request and quickly nodded.

Qin Wu walked over. At this moment, the camera followed his movement, then zoomed in, enlarging the image.

His long, slender fingers touched the petals, brushing over them lightly. The delicate petals couldn’t help but tremble slightly. Moving methodically, he gently plucked a few petals.

Then, he returned to the table, clutched the petals in his palm, and crushed them with a slight pressure. The floral juice dampened his skin and flowed through his fingers, slowly dripping onto the painting paper, landing exactly on the central rose.

The floral juice slowly bloomed, a pale pink, becoming the only touch of color amidst the black and white, and also the final finishing touch.

“Amazing, the roses in the painting look as if they’ve suddenly been given a soul.”
“Is Qin Wu trying to express, ‘You brought color to my world’? Is that what it means?”
“Sisters, you have a way with words. So romantic.”
“Am I the only one who thinks the scene of him crushing the petals to squeeze out the juice was… very sexy?”
“No, you’re not the only one. slurp slurp“

Having finished the painting, Qin Wu slowly wiped his fingers with a tissue. He lifted his eyelids, his gaze locked firmly onto Pei Liu, and said in a deep voice: “This painting is a gift for you.”

Pei Liu froze.

For some reason, he inexplicably thought of the terrifying ghost in the abandoned villa. Xie Wuyu had also said he could paint and wanted to paint him. Even though they looked completely different, in that split second, the faces of the two subtly merged, creating a bizarre sense of similarity.