Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Chen Jinsheng flew back to B City the next day. Chu Heng didn't go to see him off. Instead, after Chen Jinsheng left, he opened the message interface filled with messages he had never replied to.

"Meng Hui: Brother Chu, when can I return to work?"

...

"Meng Hui: Brother Chu, it's been almost half a year since I've been off work. When can I start working again?"

...

"Meng Hui: Did I do something wrong?"

...

"Meng Hui: Brother Chu, please stop paying me. I haven't been working lately, and I feel bad taking it."

"Meng Hui: [Transfer]"

"You have a transfer that was not accepted within 24 hours and has expired."

...

"Meng Hui: Brother Chu, are you firing me?"

"Meng Hui: It's okay. I know I haven't done well in many areas. I'll come back to the company to pick up my things when I have time."

After scrolling through the message history, Chu Heng let out a silent scoff.

"Chu Heng: Sorry, I've been too busy recently and didn't get around to you."

"Chu Heng: Once you've gotten yourself together, you can return to work as usual in the next few days."

"Chu Heng: [Current Address]"

The phone vibrated.

"Meng Hui: Okay, Brother Chu! I'll book the earliest flight there right away!"

Meng Hui was true to his word and arrived the next day.

Chu Heng had just finished a wire-flying stunt and was covered in sweat. As he was about to grab a towel, someone handed him a clean one first.

"Brother Chu."

Meng Hui smiled from behind the towel, looking very amiable.

Chu Heng took the towel and wiped his sweat. Immediately, a staff member stepped forward to touch up his makeup. Chu Heng lowered his head slightly to make it easier for the staff, casually asking, "You came back so quickly. Is everything settled at home?"

Meng Hui smiled, taking the used towel from Chu Heng and folding it into a small square. "There aren't many people at home, so there's not much to settle."

Chu Heng glanced at his actions. "You're not getting any younger. Haven't you thought about dating?"

Meng Hui lowered his head as if shy. "Brother Chu, you know how it is. My job isn't stable right now. It wouldn't be right to ask a girl to suffer with me."

"Dating should be something both people want. Being together is for happiness; it's not as serious as you think. Besides, you don't seem like the type to let a girl suffer." Chu Heng spoke to him across the circle of people as if making casual conversation, very much like a boss who suddenly took an interest in his subordinate's well-being. "But not many people these days stick to their dreams like you do. This drama is personally overseen by Zheng Chongyi, and he's been with the crew lately. You should find opportunities to network with him more."

Zheng Chongyi was a well-known producer in the industry.

Meng Hui was taken aback for a moment, quickly looking up at him with gratitude. "Thank you, Brother Chu."

After his makeup was touched up, Chu Heng casually replied, "Don't mention it," and turned back to filming.

Filming continued until 8 p.m. Chu Heng returned to the rest tent, played with his phone for a while, and messaged Wang Yelong: "At the company?"

Wang Yelong was very busy and succinctly replied with a "1."

"Chu Heng: Is Chen Jinsheng with you?"

"Wang Yelong: ..."

"Chu Heng: ?"

"Wang Yelong: He is."

"Wang Yelong: He's been here since the day before yesterday."

"Chu Heng: Has he gotten any rest?"

"Wang Yelong: Not sure. Seems like he came straight from the airport. He's been sleeping in your office. Doesn't seem like he's been eating properly either."

"Chu Heng: ..."

"Chu Heng: Did you take the wrong medicine?"

"Wang Yelong: No. Just feeling a little resentful."

"Chu Heng: ??"

"Wang Yelong: [Smile] Jing Jing and I have been running around for the company these past few months. How come no one comes to check on us?"

Chu Heng also smiled, typing rapidly.

"Chu Heng: You're not my boyfriend."

The chat went silent for a few minutes.

A few minutes later,

"Wang Yelong: Hehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehehe"

Chu Heng: ...

"Wang Yelong: Should've said you're just stubborn as hell."

"Wang Yelong: Go bother your boyfriend if you have nothing to do. Stop bothering me."

Because the filming location was in the woods, the hotel booked by the crew was some distance from the set. On the way back, Meng Hui glanced at the car with only four people and asked, "Brother Chu, where's the new assistant?"

"You mean Brother Chen," Little Mei said bluntly, seeing Chu Heng resting with his eyes closed and answering for him. "Some company business came up, so Brother Chu let him go back first."

Company business?

Meng Hui pinched his pants, subtly fishing for information. "Really? I saw Brother Wang and Sister Jing Jing have been very busy lately too. Did Brother Chen go to help them? It's a shame I can't clone myself, otherwise I could lend a hand too."

Chu Heng opened his eyes and glanced at him.

The person isn't here, but the news sure travels fast.

Little Mei didn’t notice. She smiled and said, “You’re just too kind-hearted—always wanting to help everyone out. Be careful you don’t wear yourself out.”

“It’s nothing—just small things. Brother Wang and the others have always treated me well, so I want to help shoulder some of their burdens.”

“Those are company matters; the best we can do is avoid causing trouble.” Little Mei yawned. “We don’t have work tomorrow morning, Xiao Meng, so sleep in a bit. Your dark circles are so heavy, I can’t help but want to grab some concealer.”

He hadn’t managed to extract any information from her, nor had he spotted the person he was looking for. Meng Hui felt a flicker of irritation, sensing things slipping beyond his control. He glanced at Chu Heng, who sat with his eyes closed, leaning back against the seat, then said, “Thank you for your concern, Sister Little Mei.”

Chu Heng listened as he addressed everyone as “Brother” this and “Sister” that—not only competent and disarmingly charming, but also effortlessly smooth-talking. No wonder, after shadowing him to meetings for over a year, he’d won over everyone in the company—even Wang Yelong trusted him deeply.

If Chu Heng hadn’t been fatally betrayed by him in a past life, he never would have thought to investigate him in this one.

Now, reflecting on it, Meng Hui’s thorough knowledge of his schedule was likely due to his having extracted copious details from the staff.

Recalling the private investigator’s reports, Chu Heng mentally juxtaposed two names:

Meng Hui. Yu Shangbiao.

The beneficiary—and the benefactor.

The recipient of kindness—and the giver of favors.

Chu Heng’s childhood circumstances mirrored Meng Hui’s—both had grown up dirt-poor. He understood all too well what such kindness meant to people like them: nothing short of a lifeline.

It seemed that in his past life, Meng Hui’s luring him into the red-light district to frame him hadn’t been about money—as he’d claimed—but about hatred. Or rather, revenge.

Perhaps brooding over it too much on the ride home had triggered the dream that night.

It was chaotic—a swirling maelstrom of red, white, black, and gold, blinding and disorienting. One moment, a snarling face and a cold, gleaming knife lunged toward him; the next, an unknown figure blocked his path.

Dull, wet thuds and faint, muffled moans drifted in and out beneath the roar of thunder. The window blew open, velvet curtains whipping violently against the white wall. Lightning split the sky, illuminating a corner of the room. Rain seeped through the floorboards—red droplets falling, quickly tinting the puddle of rainwater a pale pink.

A bright red knife reflected several shocked faces.

Chu Heng’s eyes snapped open.

He bolted upright, fumbling frantically for his phone. After missing it several times, he finally grasped it tightly and instinctively dialed a number.

“Hello?” A low, raspy voice came from the other end. “…Chu Heng? Is something wrong?”

Only then did Chu Heng realize he hadn’t spoken. He opened his mouth: “I…”

He tried to steady his breathing, calming himself before continuing, “I heard from Wang Yelong that you’ve been sleeping at the company these past few days. Why aren’t you going home to sleep?”

Chen Jinsheng didn’t reply.

Listening to his light, steady breaths, the dream’s images gradually faded from Chu Heng’s mind. “Company matters are important—but not *that* urgent. Eat well, sleep well, don’t overwork yourself.”

Chu Heng had never uttered such nagging, mother-hen-like words before. After a few sentences, he fell silent, feeling awkward.

After a pause, Chen Jinsheng replied, “Okay.”

Chu Heng waited a moment, glanced at his phone—2 a.m. After Chen Jinsheng’s response, there was no follow-up. Chu Heng was about to blurt out something random to end the call when he heard Chen Jinsheng slowly say on the other end, “Chu Heng—when are you coming back?”

The next day, Chu Heng went to the director to adjust his shooting schedule.

His role wasn’t the lead, but it was pivotal. After moving his later scenes forward, he was working nearly every day—from 5 or 6 a.m. until past 10 p.m.

He had numerous action sequences, sometimes filming fight choreography all day. Perhaps due to over ten consecutive days of high-intensity shooting, one day while suspended in a harness, Chu Heng suddenly felt dizzy. To make matters worse, the waist harness unexpectedly loosened. Before he could react, he plummeted.

The crew panicked, terrified he’d been seriously injured on set. Fortunately, the dense foliage below cushioned his fall—leaving him with only a dislocated wrist and minor scrapes.

After on-set medical staff treated him, Chu Heng sent Old Ding to investigate the rigging failure and returned to filming.

The director looked at his still-swollen wrist, bandaged elbow, and arms and ankles stained with iodine—then silently reverted his shooting schedule to its original timing.

*Truly the industry’s top workhorse*, he mused.

Since the filming location was remote and the crew’s security protocols were tight, news of Chu Heng’s near-accident never leaked. The crew worried for a few days—but seeing no online chatter and Chu Heng himself acting as if nothing had happened—even asking the director not to alter the schedule—they simply reprimanded the props master responsible for the rigging and moved on.

Old Ding followed up on the matter thoroughly and eventually reported the crew’s handling to Chu Heng, who responded with an indifferent “Mm,” seemingly unconcerned.

A few days later, He Mingshuang suddenly texted, saying she was in the area and wanted to meet Chu Heng for a meal.

The nearest inhabited area to the crew’s mountain filming location was a famous local tourist town. After wrapping up an event in the neighboring city, He Mingshuang searched for the picturesque small town and decided to come relax. Coincidentally, Chu Heng was filming nearby, so she arranged to meet him.

Chu Heng happened to be free that day and agreed. Originally, Old Ding was scheduled to drive him—but right before departure, he developed a stomachache, so Meng Hui stepped in as driver.

The mountains here had been developed, so the road wasn’t rugged or difficult. They drove smoothly into town and headed straight to the address He Mingshuang had sent.

Meng Hui parked under the shade of a tree, saying he’d wait in the car.

Chu Heng donned his hat and mask, hunched slightly, and got out. The tourist town bustled with visitors—the streets lively and crowded. In the distance stood a high wall adorned with vibrant graffiti, where many young men and women gathered to take photos.

Fortunately, Meng Hui had parked shrewdly. Chu Heng deliberately kept his posture low and slipped discreetly into the teahouse just a few steps away.

It was around two or three in the afternoon. He Mingshuang had ordered a pot of light tea and several plates of dim sum, waiting for him in a private room.

She wore a single braid, a soft-pink cheongsam embroidered with delicate, tonal motifs along the mandarin collar and hem. Teardrop-shaped pink gemstone earrings and the tassels of her white cloud-shoulder swayed gently with her movements as she poured tea—exuding quiet elegance.

Seeing Chu Heng arrive, she raised a hand to tuck a stray strand behind her ear, then casually pushed open the slightly ajar window beside her for ventilation, revealing a faint yet familiar smile. “You’re here. The tea is just ready.”

The teahouse was built beside the river; below the window stood a historic stone bridge. Chu Heng sat opposite He Mingshuang, his gaze sweeping over the bridge—and catching, just for a moment, the corner of his own car.

Following his glance, He Mingshuang’s tone remained gentle. “Is that your car? I saw someone get out of the driver’s seat earlier—the driver who brought you? Should I invite him downstairs for a pot of tea?”

Chu Heng didn’t answer, picking up a porcelain cup to sip the tea.

He Mingshuang didn’t mind. “I learned this tea-brewing technique from a master hired by a crew during one of my shoots. How is it?”

Chu Heng said, “You learned well.”

He Mingshuang smiled faintly, lips pursed, adjusting her cloud-shoulder and pushing the adjacent window open a little wider. Casually, she asked about his life on set and his plans after finishing this film.

Chu Heng chatted with her intermittently, relaxing against the softly cushioned chair back—and also asked about her child at home.

He Mingshuang pulled out her phone to show him photos of the child, her expression tender as she spoke of the little one.

From afar, the two appeared to be conversing happily—the atmosphere harmonious.

It wasn’t until around five or six that Chu Heng left the teahouse.

On the way back, the sky gradually darkened. Meng Hui watched the amber light spill across the mountain road, glanced at Chu Heng in the back seat through the rearview mirror, and smiled. “Brother Chu seems to be in a good mood?”

A faint smile lingered at the corner of Chu Heng’s mouth as he turned to admire the greenery along the roadside outside the window. “Yes—the child is very cute.”

Meng Hui was startled. “Child?”

Chu Heng seemed to realize he’d spoken carelessly—his smile vanished, replaced by cold detachment. “Don’t ask what you shouldn’t.”

Meng Hui gripped the steering wheel, eyes fixed ahead, his tone subdued. “Yes.”