Me And My Four Dancers - Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Truly Terrifying

It was a bizarre night, filled with countless bizarre dreams.

The next morning, Yan Shuo woke with a splitting headache, feeling as if he’d died all over again. It took him a long time to finally find his place and return to the human world.

He was stunned for a moment, trying to figure out the questions of “who am I and where am I?” Then he remembered that he’d been drunk the previous night, and Chen Ze had brought him home to rest, undressed him, and put him in the bathtub, and then…

Then everything that had happened came flooding back to him, including how he’d pretended to be a dog and crawled around, how he’d acted so brazenly and forcefully kissed Chen Ze, and so many other atrocious acts.

—It wasn’t a dream.

Yan Shuo’s vision went dark, and he didn’t know how to react.

Where was Chen Ze?

He glanced up at the bathroom. The door was closed, and not a sound could be heard. Chen Ze must have left… What time was it? Yan Shuo shuddered, belatedly realizing he was filming a show. The moment he stepped out of this door, cameras would be rolling. He had to pull himself together and get to work.

Work was truly a wonderful thing.

Yan Shuo suppressed his emotions and got up as quickly as he could—any later, his assistant would be knocking on the door. With so many big names living in this villa, how could he afford to sleep in and act like a big shot?

That said, the hangover was unbearable. It just so happened that today’s shoot was a group activity, with all the guests gathered together by the director. The atmosphere was joyous and lively. Yan Shuo was getting a headache from the noise, yet he still had to force a smile for the cameras.

It’s worth noting that Chen Ze hadn’t spoken to him today. Aside from the necessary interactions during filming, they hadn’t exchanged a single word privately.

But the show wasn’t going well either.

Normally, according to the production team, their CP promotional style was to be a tacit teammate, a soulmate. Whether it was eye contact or dialogue, they’d frequently cue each other, conveying a “I’m thinking of you all the time” vibe—a sweet, sweet moment.

But today, Yan Shuo had a natural headache, felt sleepy, and felt guilty and awkward, making him feel awkward around Shen Ze.

Shen Ze was known for his reserved and aloof demeanor, so it wasn’t easily noticeable. But compared to his usual demeanor, their stiff interaction seemed awkward, as if they’d had an argument and were angry.

—The director actually thought this worked perfectly.

Yan Shuo knew exactly what the editing subtitles would be. They were bound to portray them as a bickering couple, even the awkwardness being transformed into meaningful, pink bubbles.

Finally, the shoot was over. Yan Shuo didn’t feel like eating dinner, so he said goodbye to everyone and went back to his room.

He’d been exhausted and dizzy all day, and had tried to sleep countless times, but he’d fought it off. Now that he could sleep, he couldn’t.

Yan Shuo lay on his bed, replaying last night’s events in his mind.

I didn’t remember every detail, but I remembered things I shouldn’t have. For example, he kissed Shen Ze all over his face and asked if he liked it.

What did Shen Ze say?

—”I do, thank you.”

“…”

He really liked it, didn’t he? He already liked me.

Yan Shuo’s mind suddenly clicked, but his awkwardness didn’t improve; it only worsened. Shen Ze had a crush on him, and he had kissed Shen Ze, even though he was drunk. Would Shen Ze think too much? Would he think he was interested in him, too?

That was why he was so awkward today. Was he just building up his momentum by not talking all day? Was he going to confront him later?

…Oh my god.

Yan Shuo felt a little homophobic. It was truly terrifying.

While Shen Ze was still around, he opened WeChat and sent a message to Qi Haoyu.

Yan Shuo: “Qi, life is so hard.”

Qi Haoyu, the internet-addicted teenager, his phone in his hand, immediately replied: “What’s wrong, brother?”

Yan Shuo: “I shouldn’t have drunk. I really shouldn’t have.”

Qi Haoyu: “⊙o⊙?”

Yan Shuo: “No, I was wrong. I was wrong from the beginning. It’s not that I shouldn’t have drunk, it’s that I shouldn’t have entered the entertainment industry. If I hadn’t entered the entertainment industry, I wouldn’t have joined the “fake celebrity” group. If I hadn’t joined the “fake celebrity” group, I wouldn’t have fallen into such a dire situation…”

Qi Haoyu: “What’s wrong? What’s so dire? Yueshi went bankrupt? BFS finally ran away with the money?!” Qi Haoyu: “Oh my god! I knew this would come true!!! That awful boss who’s obsessed with traveling and showing off their affection on Weibo is truly unreliable!!!”

Qi Haoyu: “Is it too late to ask for my salary now? I was just trying to get my girlfriend an annual membership, haha.”

Yan Shuo: “…”

Yan Shuo: “No, the company isn’t bankrupt, don’t get excited.”

Yan Shuo: “Wait, where’s your girlfriend? Didn’t we just break up?”

Qi Haoyu: “New one! I found a sweet, cute girl who even texts me songs, hehe.”

Yan Shuo: “…………”

Yan Shuo was despairing.

He’d thought Qi Haoyu was just reeling from a breakup, feeling down too, and that they could comfort each other.

He had never expected this idiotic elementary school kid to switch online relationships so quickly.

—How can people be so different?!

Yan Shuo slumped down on the pillow and threw his phone away.

Just then, there was a sudden click behind him, and the door opened. Chen Ze returned.

Yan Shuo’s nerves tensed, his body on full alert.

One step, two steps, three steps…

The footsteps behind him suddenly turned a corner, and Chen Ze entered the bathroom.

Yan Shuo: “…”

I can’t do this. Why am I so nervous?

Yan Shuo sat up in bed, leaned against the headboard, and began to pretend to play with his phone.

On WeChat, messages kept popping up, all from elementary school students.

Qi Haoyu: “Brother, I’m telling you, she’s really cute.”

Qi Haoyu: “I think I’ve found love.”

Qi Haoyu: “It was only after meeting her that I realized the failure of my last relationship was a test from God. How could I let myself be devastated just because I was cheated on by a stinky man?”

Qi Haoyu: “I’m so happy, qvq. You should do your best, brother, go for it!!!”

Yan Shuo: “…”

This is absolutely amazing.

Yan Shuo couldn’t muster the energy to do anything. He closed WeChat and the background apps, then, feeling bored, he opened and closed every app on his phone, looking through them all.

Finally, Chen Ze emerged from the bathroom.

The whole process had only taken two or three minutes, but Yan Shuo was on pins and needles, every second feeling like an eternity.

Chen Ze was still wearing the same clothes he’d worn during the show; he hadn’t had time to change.

He walked over to the bed, facing away from Yan Shuo, and took off his shirt, putting it away. He unbuckled his belt and removed his pants. Then, he opened the closet, pulled out a set of home clothes, and quickly changed into them.

Chen Ze turned around and finally greeted Yan Shuo.

“Did you see the news today?” he said. “It’s trending.”

“…”

Yan Shuo hadn’t really seen what news? The one about the five of them being photographed outside the KTV last night? Wasn’t that the press release Li Linjia had bought?

Chen Ze said, “Li Linjia called me this morning and told us to be careful.”

“What do you want to be careful about?” Yan Shuo was taken aback.

Chen Ze said, “Be careful not to hug or cuddle in public. We’re just promoting our relationship, and we can’t create any homosexual rumors.”

Yan Shuo: “…”

Is there a difference?

It seems so.

…No, the point is about the hugging and cuddle. Who was hugging and cuddle?

Yan Shuo was a bit blackout-edged and couldn’t recall.

Did he not only act like a scoundrel in the bathroom last night, but also hugged Chen Ze in public?

“Well,” Yan Shuo coughed lightly and said slyly, “I was so drunk last night that I don’t even know how I left the KTV. I’m sorry, Brother Ze, I won’t drink so much next time. Thank you for taking care of me.”

He evaded the main point, successfully clearing himself of all charges without any knowledge.

Chen Ze seemed startled. He stared at him for two seconds, his thoughts etched in his mind. After a pause, he said, “You’re welcome.”

Yan Shuo breathed a sigh of relief.

But before he could relax, he was struck by another emotion.

Chen Ze had always had a crush on him, keeping it to himself and refusing to make things official. But now, drunk and reckless, he’d taken the initiative, flirting with her, hugging and kissing her. How would Chen Ze feel?

Would he have felt a sense of promise and begun to hope for something more?

But it was all just a false hope. He quickly disassociated himself from her.

Looking at it this way, he looked like a scumbag who flirted, then ignored her and then, without a trace of ruthlessness, pulled out of her.

Alas, Yan Shuo sighed.

…He really does seem a bit of a scumbag.

But what could he do? He hadn’t done it on purpose, so he wouldn’t have to take responsibility for a kiss.

Yan Shuo glanced at Chen Ze from the corner of his eye.

Chen Ze sat in a chair beside the bed, his head lowered, also checking his phone. His expression seemed a little… downcast?

In truth, Yan Shuo wasn’t sure. Shen Ze had always been expressionless, never willing to show his happiness or unhappiness, his face always stern. But it was clearly an expression he was used to seeing, so why did he feel more and more that Shen Ze’s lowered head seemed a little sad?

Is it an illusion?

Yan Shuo was unsettled by his own imagination, feeling incredibly guilty.

You really can’t be so kind. How did Li Jin manage to keep such a straight face while cheating on one woman after another?

It’s so hard.

Being a good person is hard, and being a handsome, kind, responsible, and romantically unattractive man is even harder.

Yan Shuo felt overwhelmed and opened WeChat again.

But reason told him that Qi Haoyu wasn’t the right person to confide in. It was best not to tell anyone about his relationship with Shen Ze, as it could easily lead to trouble.

But Yan Shuo wasn’t someone who could keep his feelings to himself. If he could, he wouldn’t have created a fake Weibo account in the first place.

So, he opened QQ.

Coincidentally, the “very annoying” avatar was lit up, indicating he was online.