Secret Incident (BL) - Chapter 3

Ethan Fane considered getting lost and ending up soaked like a drowned rat to be utterly humiliating.

Even if others didn’t think much of it, he would still tell a small lie to cover up his embarrassment.

And yet, the very person who had just witnessed his most embarrassing moment was now standing right in front of him.

Guilt? Maybe.

Besides lying, there were also secrets he couldn’t afford to let this stranger see through.

Keeping his polite smile intact, Ethan feigned surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize there was a guest here.”

With the perfect balance of warmth and courtesy, he nodded at the stranger in greeting.

Then, he walked over to the front desk and placed the bag of tofu pudding he had bought on the counter, speaking softly. “Zhao-jie, I got this for you and A-Jian. I’ll head upstairs now.”

“Oh, you’re too kind!” Zhao-jie, the hotel owner, adored Ethan—not just because he was handsome, but also because ever since he arrived, she had been enjoying the privilege of being called “Zhao-jie,” a sweet and affectionate title she rarely heard.

Feeling delighted, she raised her voice several octaves and immediately offered him some wax apples she had just bought.

Ethan tried to decline, but Zhao-jie’s enthusiasm was overwhelming.

Having always been sensitive to people’s gazes, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the man standing nearby was watching him from behind those sunglasses. It wasn’t enough to make him uncomfortable—he was used to being in front of cameras—but he was aware of it.

Still smiling, Ethan glanced at the suitcase beside the man and casually asked, “Is he part of our crew?”

Though his question was directed at Zhao-jie, his eyes moved naturally from the suitcase to its owner.

If his fleeting attraction earlier had been a brain fog moment caused by the rain, he was fully dry now. Looking at the man again, Ethan’s thoughts instantly turned into a scrolling list of mental captions:

Who is this guy?

Does the script even have a character like this?

Good proportions. Looks mature.

An actor? Haven’t seen him before.

Not bad-looking.

If we have to work together for months, this is going to be exhausting.

Desire is an illusion. Stay focused. Amen.

Zhao-jie answered, “Mr. Jun isn’t part of your film crew. He’s here for tourism development.”

“Market research for tourism development,” A-Jian corrected from behind the desk, his voice flat.

“Research, research,” Zhao-jie repeated. “They booked their rooms before your crew took over the whole place. They didn’t want to cancel, but don’t worry, they’re staying on the second floor, so they won’t disturb your rest—”

As she spoke, her gaze flicked between Ethan and Liam Jun, a little disappointed that Liam didn’t show the typical excitement of meeting a celebrity.

She couldn’t hold back any longer and blurted out, “You don’t know who Ethan Fane is? Ethan Fane! Haven’t you seen his dramas?”

“Zhao-jie,” Ethan wanted to disappear. Still maintaining his friendly smile, he softened his tone as if pleading, “It’s perfectly normal not to know me. You don’t have to ask like that.”

“True,” Zhao-jie nodded sincerely. “Mr. Jun, you’re at an age where you probably don’t follow entertainment news.”

A-Jian let out an awkward cough.

Zhao-jie didn’t think she had said anything wrong. She happily ran off to the fridge to fetch a bag of wax apples for Ethan to take upstairs.

Her husband, A-Jian, muttered under his breath, “Imported. Expensive. At least leave a couple for our son.”

Zhao-jie had a young son in elementary school, but at this moment, she clearly favored her “internet son.” She was determined to give all the fruit to Ethan.

Ethan didn’t want to accept it, but he also didn’t want to be rude.

So, he smiled brightly, “I love wax apples,” and took just one from the bag.

His smile was dazzling. Sweet and well-behaved.

It wasn’t hard to see why he was so well-liked.

After chatting with Zhao-jie, he smoothly pivoted back to the previous conversation and approached the other guest who had been left standing there.

Stopping in front of Liam Jun, Ethan extended a hand, his manner polite and elegant. “I’m Ethan Fane, an actor. My film crew is staying here for the next few months. Since we have a lot of people, it might get noisy. If we ever disturb you, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

For the past few weeks, Ethan had been on a strict weight-loss regimen for his role. Although he was thinner than usual, he still stood at six feet tall, making him stand out in most crowds.

But now, standing in front of Liam Jun, he suddenly felt… smaller.

Liam was tall.

Under his short-sleeved summer shirt, his broad shoulders and toned muscles were faintly visible.

Ethan took a closer look at him, tilting his head slightly.

In his mind, his internal captions shifted from “gay aesthetics” to “a competition between men.”

Must eat a lot of protein.

Who doesn’t have abs? I had them too.

Acting all cool. Take off your sunglasses if you dare.

Conveniently doing market research right before we start filming? Which company is trying to ride our publicity wave?

If they’re here for the exposure, they should be paying us.

…

Ethan had a thousand thoughts running through his head.

But on the surface, he remained as polite and composed as ever.

Liam Jun extended his hand for a brief handshake, his sunglasses still on. He was as concise as ever, uttering only two words: “Liam Jun.”

The handshake barely lasted a second before he let go. Ethan Fane didn’t linger either—he casually bid Zhao-jie farewell and headed for the stairs.

The inn had five floors but no elevator. The stairwell was on the right side of the lobby. Ethan bounced up the stairs with an energetic, carefree stride.

Then, he stopped at the landing on the third floor.

Zhao-jie was leading Liam to his room on the second floor, chatting as they walked. “The rest of the rooms are reserved by the film crew. Try not to wander around too much.”

Liam remained silent.

“You really don’t know who Ethan Fane is? Fine, whatever. But honestly, he’s a big star, and yet he has zero attitude. Compared to him, you act way more high and mighty.”

Her words were blunt. After all, he had kept his sunglasses on the entire time, barely smiling.

Liam finally spoke. “This place has serious humidity issues. You don’t smell the mildew?”

“It’s humid when it’s cloudy. Just open a window and air it out,” Zhao-jie replied, her impatience evident even in the way she unlocked the door. “The lighting’s better upstairs, but there aren’t any available rooms. The film crew has taken them all.”

She briefly explained the basics—where the light switches and power outlets were—without bothering with any formal hotel etiquette.

Liam didn’t engage in further conversation either. As soon as she left, he shut the door.

Hearing the door downstairs close, Ethan Fane casually tossed the wax apple in his hand, leisurely making his way up.

His room was on the fifth floor. At the end of the long hallway, a window let in some sunlight, slightly dispelling the damp mustiness. But with the storm having just passed and the heat kicking in, the hallway felt like a steaming pot, hardly more comfortable than the humid rooms below.

Once inside, Ethan basked in the air conditioning for a while, but he still felt sticky and uncomfortable. The wax apple he had been tossing for ages ended up in the trash, flung with a perfect overhand pitch.

He struck a victorious pose and cheered, “Nice shot!”

Alone in his space, his mask of politeness vanished, leaving only exhaustion. His slippers ended up scattered in different corners of the room, his clothes tossed carelessly aside. As he walked toward the bathroom to shower, he absentmindedly started muttering lines from his script.

“Interesting…”

He slammed the bathroom door shut. Turning on the shower, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror and smirked. His eyes darkened, and his voice dropped into a chilling tone as he recited, “You can’t escape.”

He was rehearsing for his new role.

For most people, practicing lines in the mirror while showering would seem ridiculous.

But when Ethan did it, it wasn’t amusing—it was unsettling.

Because he was too good at it.

So good that no one could tell which version of him was real.

Not even himself.

The moment he finished his lines, he sneezed several times in a row. His posture slumped slightly. End scene. Time to shower.

Maybe it was the rain, or maybe just exhaustion, but after showering, Ethan sent a few messages to his manager. He had planned to watch a movie, but he ended up dozing off on the couch instead.

Later in the night, feeling chilly, he groggily climbed into bed.

His body had always been resilient.

He had endured countless physically demanding film shoots—rolling in mud, plunging into water, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. More often than not, a good night’s sleep was all it took for him to bounce back.

But this time, he woke up sneezing.

His energy was fine, but his nose was stuffed.

The curtains had been left open overnight. Summer sunlight flooded the room, making it impossible to sleep in. Ethan squinted at the brightness and realized his throat was sore. He made a few test sounds—”Ah… ah…”—trying to clear it.

Yep. He had caught a cold.

Letting out a long sigh, he mumbled, “Getting old. Useless.”

He got up and searched for water. The mini-fridge was out of bottled water, and he didn’t feel like boiling any. Resigned, he sleepily washed up, changed clothes, and got ready to go downstairs to buy some.

His hair was left loose, tucked behind his ears, and he wore a red baseball cap. Grabbing his phone and a mask, he opened the door—

Only to find Liam Jun standing right outside.

Liam removed one of his wireless earbuds and lifted a bag in his other hand. “Breakfast. Want some?”

Ethan blinked, slow to process. “You… bought breakfast for me?”

Liam didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned in slightly, closing the distance.

His expression remained unreadable, his posture almost like an investigator conducting a surprise inspection. Yet his tone was steady, his voice carrying a deep, almost soothing resonance.

“You have a cold. You got caught in the rain yesterday, then blasted your AC too low. That’s not good.”

Ethan forced a casual smile, trying not to overthink things. Yesterday, this guy had been all cool and detached—so why was he suddenly acting familiar now?

Still, he played along. “Yeah, I think I’m coming down with something. I was just about to ask Zhao-jie if she had any cold medicine. Thanks for the breakfast.”

He didn’t reach out to take the bag, and Liam made no move to hand it over.

They stood close, facing each other, neither backing down from the eye contact.

…Though “totally unbothered” was a bit of a stretch.

Ethan’s face remained bright and friendly, but internally, he was running calculations. What’s his angle?

Liam, on the other hand, was lying.

The whole “tourism development market research” spiel? Fake.

Not having a business card on him? No, they simply hadn’t been printed yet.

And the breakfast?

It was actually his own.