Chapter 44

Chapter 044
Unfortunately, Ji Tingqian could neither hear Ming Huai’s inner thoughts nor decipher his wildly suggestive glances. He kept Ming Huai’s instructions from the previous night firmly in mind and adhered to them strictly, maintaining a cold demeanor whenever questions about Ming Huai arose and continuing this behavior throughout the subsequent game segments.
The other members of “Farmhouse Courtyard” observed covertly from the sidelines, finding the atmosphere between the two unusually strange. They distinctly remembered that their relationship seemed quite good during the show’s recording. Meanwhile, Director Gao, seated in the audience, wore a grim expression. He had originally hoped to generate buzz by highlighting the stark contrast between their on-screen chemistry and their supposedly distant real-life relationship. Under the current circumstances, controversy would indeed arise, but entirely opposite to what he had envisioned.
Until the very end, Ji Tingqian remained unchanged. In truth, this was simply his natural disposition; he treated everyone and everything with such aloofness. However, when the subject was Ming Huai, things were different—he feared the media would seize upon this discrepancy and make a huge fuss.
As soon as they stepped out of the studio, Ming Huai grabbed Ji Tingqian’s arm and pulled him away from the main group. Ming Huai himself had no particular destination in mind, wandering wherever his feet took him. After a few minutes, they finally reached the end of a corridor—a place where no one seemed likely to venture—and there they stopped.
Ming Huai let go of Ji Tingqian’s arm, lifting his gaze to meet the other man’s eyes. His expression was indescribable; his lips parted twice as if to speak, yet no words emerged. It was unclear whether he was too furious or simply unable to organize his thoughts. Meanwhile, Ji Tingqian remained completely oblivious to the tension, yet he stood straight, lowering his eyes to hold Ming Huai’s gaze. He looked as though, even if Ming Huai were to slap him in the next instant, he wouldn’t flinch.
“You… why did you treat me like that on stage just now?” Ming Huai finally forced out the words. “Your face was so cold, utterly expressionless. Anyone who didn’t know better would think you despised me.”
Ji Tingqian furrowed his brows in confusion. “You told me to act that way last night.”
Unjustly accused, Ming Huai felt a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. A question now nagged at him: how could someone with Ji Tingqian’s personality garner such widespread appeal, not to mention a legion of die-hard fans? Perhaps, when viewed through the rosy lens of fandom, everything appeared entirely different.
“I want you to avoid doing strange things or saying odd remarks, not to keep a stern face toward me the entire time,” Ming Huai attempted to reason with Ji Tingqian.
Speaking too hastily, Ming Huai appeared flustered and loud, his eyes wide open, filled with four parts complaint and six parts coquetry—an unintentionally seductive look, accentuated by the occasional glimpse of his pink tongue. Ji Tingqian’s gaze gradually darkened; his stern features became veiled with a faint sense of danger. Whatever Ming Huai said afterward, he no longer paid any attention.
“Stop talking,” Ji Tingqian murmured, his voice slightly hoarse as he reluctantly shifted his gaze away from Ming Huai.
But Ming Huai refused to stop. He tugged at the hem of Ji Tingqian’s clothes, suddenly feeling a touch of distress as certain thoughts crossed his mind. “You won’t even let me speak? Our fans from both sides are already like this, and your behavior today is just pouring oil on the fire!”
Ming Huai continued speaking regardless, his final scolding melting into a soft plea. His tone grew increasingly tender, his expression more and more unbearable for Ji Tingqian to withstand—yet he himself remained completely unaware.
Suddenly, Ji Tingqian leaned in, one hand cupming Ming Huai’s cheek. Ming Huai froze mid-sentence, his body going rigid as he blinked up at Ji Tingqian.
Ji Tingqian made no further move for a long moment, merely stroking that spot repeatedly. After what seemed an eternity, he let the surging dark currents in his eyes flood fully into Ming Huai’s view. “Don’t speak to me in that tone, and don’t look at me with that expression when we’re out. I won’t be able to hold back.”
“I won’t be able to resist kissing you, or even wanting to…” Ji Tingqian’s Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. His palm slid from Ming Huai’s cheek down to his lips, then continued downward to rest at his waist. “…wanting to enter you.”
In the end, Ming Huai fled with flushed cheeks; even after getting into the car, the heat on his face hadn’t subsided. Ji Tingqian followed shortly after—worthy of his title as Best Actor, he had already composed his expression within mere moments.
A lunch gathering had been arranged for noon. As the two stepped outside, everyone was already making their way to the cars. Ming Huai spotted Zhao Manman and immediately headed toward her.
Zhao Manman had just searched everywhere without catching a glimpse of Ming Huai. Worried she wouldn’t find a chance to speak with him, her face lit up with excitement the moment she saw him. She waved eagerly, “Brother Ming Huai, ride in my car!”
Without even glancing back at Ji Tingqian, Ming Huai nodded and agreed with Zhao Manman. “Alright.”
“Then I’ll ride in this one too. Is that okay?” Ji Tingqian asked, looking at Zhao Manman.
Zhao Manman hadn’t expected Ji Tingqian to initiate a conversation with her. Facing such a towering figure in the entertainment industry, she still felt a flicker of intimidation and unease, despite their previous encounters. Forcing a smile, she replied, “Of course.”
“No.” Before Zhao Manman could even finish her agreement, Ming Huai immediately shot her down. Then, under her gaze of utter astonishment, he turned to Ji Tingqian and said, “Manman and I need to talk; it’s a bit inconvenient. Could trouble Brother Ji to share a car with someone else?”
Since Ming Huai had put it that way, Ji Tingqian naturally chose to compromise, even gracing them both with a smile so rare it might occur only once in ten thousand years. Zhao Manman felt an instant surge of adrenaline, her heart pounding wildly, while Ming Huai sensed a chill creeping up his spine.
As it turned out, Ming Huai’s instinct in that moment had been spot-on. By nightfall, he and Ji Tingqian were still sharing the same room, only now they’d moved from the guest bedroom to the master suite. That evening, Ji Tingqian was exceptionally seductive—kissing, embracing, and holding Ming Huai close, while repeatedly calling out “Huai Huai” in that irresistibly melodic voice of his. Ming Huai, thoroughly charmed and dizzy with affection, failed to notice the danger even as he was gently ushered into the bathroom, undressed, and lowered into the bathtub.
Later, Ming Huai was tossed and turned throughout the night. Ji Tingqian, mindful of work the next day, moved with exceptional gentleness, yet also with exquisite torment, refusing to grant Ming Huai any swift release.
Ming Huai called out “brother” again and again, but it was utterly futile; instead, it only spurred Ji Tingqian on with greater fervor. It wasn’t until Ming Huai was completely spent that he was finally let go.
Just before drifting off to sleep, Ming Huai distinctly heard Ji Tingqian’s voice, laced with threat: “Don’t get so close to others. I’ll get jealous. I’ll get angry.”
After returning to the film set, work resumed its frantic pace. Following Ji Tingqian’s outrageous behavior that day, Ming Huai refused to let him touch him for several consecutive days. The sensation—tingling, numb, and overwhelmingly intense—was unforgettable. It was pleasurable, yes, but the feeling of nearly dying at the peak of climax was something he couldn’t easily forget.
After her previous humiliating defeat, Lin Zhimeng had become subdued. Whenever she saw Ming Huai, she addressed him respectfully as “Brother Ming Huai.” Ming Huai couldn’t be bothered to respond; after all, she was no longer capable of stirring up any real trouble.
On the contrary, it was Bai Ying who made Ming Huai seethe with jealousy time and again. One rejection wasn’t enough for her; she had to try a second, then a third time. This wasn’t merely refusing to turn back until hitting a dead end—she wouldn’t be satisfied until she had completely knocked the wall down.
Especially when reporters came to interview, Bai Ying’s behavior became particularly conspicuous. Ji Tingqian was the male lead, and while Bai Ying might not have been officially billed as the second lead, she was undeniably the female protagonist within the drama itself. As the central couple of the show, they naturally attracted far more attention than anyone else, making them the primary focus whenever entertainment journalists arrived.
Every time reporters interviewed the pair, Bai Ying would deliberately or inadvertently drop hints designed to spark speculation. Ji Tingqian would listen with a deepening frown, but unable to react openly in front of the press, he waited until everyone had left before confronting her.
“I hope Miss Bai will refrain from making such ambiguous remarks in front of the media in the future.” Out of character, Ji Tingqian’s expression was cold, his words equally devoid of warmth.
Since her debut, Bai Ying had sailed through smooth waters; whoever she set her sights on soon fell completely under her sway. Ji Tingqian was the first man of his kind she’d ever encountered, and at that moment, her composure nearly slipped. She quickly adjusted her expression, feigning ignorance. “Brother Ji, what did I say?”
Ji Tingqian offered no reply to Bai Ying’s question. He merely lifted his gaze to meet hers—a simple gesture, yet it carried unmistakable traces of mockery and warning. “As long as Miss Bai understands clearly herself, that’s enough. In any case, I do not wish for such situations to occur again.”
Perhaps because Ji Tingqian hadn’t spoken explicitly, Bai Ying deliberately tested his limits. During their next interview, she employed the same tactic. Seeing little reaction from him, she tried a third time.
How could the entertainment reporters let such a golden opportunity slip away? One by one, blog posts hinting at an ambiguous relationship between the two were published, and interview videos began to surface one after another.
Ji Tingqian’s fans, however, remained relatively calm. After all, they knew their idol’s character and aesthetic preferences better than anyone; Bai Ying was clearly not his type. Yet, among all the women who had been linked to Ji Tingqian in rumors over the years, Bai Ying was arguably one of the most well-rounded. With nothing better to do, his fans joined the fervent supporters of Bai Ying in stirring up some drama, resulting in a flood of videos and fan fiction appearing everywhere.
With both sides boasting massive fan bases, this commotion successfully catapulted the topic onto the trending search list.
And it was this very trending topic that caught Ming Huai’s eye.
In the past, Ming Huai would have simply swallowed his feelings; even if he was deeply unhappy, he’d just nurse a quiet sorrow in his heart and let it go. After all, back then, to Ji Tingqian, he was no different from Bai Ying or the others—just an outsider.
Yet now, Ming Huai hadn’t improved much. After seeing the trending search results, he gave Ji Tingqian the cold shoulder for half an hour before burying his feelings deep inside again. He tried hard to reason with himself: this was something everyone in the entertainment industry encountered. He himself had once been linked romantically with Zhao Manman; at the worst point, rumors even tied him to several female stars within a single month. By that logic, Ji Tingqian clearly had far more reason to feel jealous.
Ji Tingqian went to take a shower while Ming Huai lay in bed waiting for him. Before long, however, he couldn’t resist checking Weibo again—an act that felt nothing short of self-torture for Ming Huai.
Searching “Ji Tingqian Bai Ying” yielded almost nothing but posts praising their wonderful relationship and great chemistry; yet searching “Ming Huai Ji Tingqian” brought up a relentless stream of fans hurling insults at each other, along with those sensationalized articles published by entertainment reporters in recent days, embellished far beyond what had actually transpired at the press conference.
Reading those articles, if Ming Huai were merely an observer, he would have convinced himself that his relationship with Ji Tingqian was truly abysmal.
Yet reality told a different story: while everyone assumed Ji Tingqian and Bai Ying shared a close bond, their interactions in real life extended no further than filming scenes together. In stark contrast, the duo rumored to be at odds—Ming Huai and Ji Tingqian—had long since achieved profound intimacy, even bringing a child into the world. Digging deeper still, one would discover they were childhood sweethearts who even shared the same surname.
The moment Ji Tingqian emerged, he was met with Ming Huai’s gloomy expression. He had already sensed something amiss before heading for his shower. Walking over to the bedside, he glanced at Ming Huai’s phone screen only to find a chaotic jumble of comments, which Ming Huai was nevertheless studying with intense seriousness.
After a moment of consideration, Ji Tingqian spoke up. “Huaihuai, what’s wrong with you tonight?”
“Huh?” Ming Huai continued scrolling through the posts, a hint of frustration in his voice. “I’m wondering why everyone thinks our relationship is so terrible. Look, this thread has already sparked thousands of heated replies.”
Ming Huai put down his phone, tilted his head up to look at Ji Tingqian, then reached out to wrap his arms around the other man’s waist. Resting his cheek against Ji Tingqian’s lower abdomen, where the muscles felt rock-hard, he sighed with feeling: “I really want everyone to think we’re close. I desperately wish someone would write fanfiction about us, that people would ship our couple… Why is it so difficult?”
Ji Tingqian stroked Ming Huai’s soft hair, lost in thought.