Chapter 71

Chapter 71

"No, Song Nian, you need to reel it in here—too excited."

With the director shouting "Cut," filming halted once again.

"Song Nian, are you off your game today? Want to pause and switch to the next scene?"

Given his usual skill level, he could adjust after at most two NGs and nail it in one take. But today, this scene had been reshot four or five times and still wasn't hitting the mark.

"I'm so sorry, so sorry."

On stage, Song Nian clasped his hands together, apologizing guiltily to his partner and the crew.

Given his usual dedication and hard work, Director Zhao wasn't angry; instead, he asked with concern if something had happened.

"Sorry, please go ahead with the next scenes. I need a break to sort myself out."

Filming any longer like this would just waste time, so Song Nian apologized and arranged it that way.

He moped on a lounge chair and sent Li Yanchuan a message complaining about the day's rough shoot.

But oddly, the person who usually replied instantly was strangely silent today, with no reply for hours.

Was he busy in a meeting and couldn't check his phone?

That only made things worse!

Qin Xiao took a bottle of water from his assistant and handed it to him.

"Stuck on how to play this part? Want me to run the scene with you?"

"No, no, that's too much trouble for you."

Song Nian smiled politely, declining his kind offer.

Truth was, he wasn't unsure how to act the scene—he just felt restless inside for no reason.

Like the calm before a volcanic eruption, but it wasn't unease—it was a vague premonition that something special was about to happen.

A strong, exhilarating feeling surged in his heart, leaving him unable to calm down.

His thoughts were scattered, and during filming, his emotions erupted too fiercely, exceeding what the character needed.

"Could it be... good luck's coming?"

At this, Qin Xiao's eyes darted as he guessed.

Some post online said that such intense excitement might signal good news.

Good luck?

Song Nian lowered his gaze, lost in thought.

Was he about to have some good luck...?

—Yeah, right!

After a full day's work, returning to the hotel under moonlight, Song Nian felt utterly drained, each step felt weak.

Good luck? All I got was bad luck!

Not a single good thing happened; instead, he was so down on his luck that even the simplest things backfired.

Today's shoot was disastrous—either the harness malfunctioned during the wire work, leaving him suspended midair for ages, or during his best take, his partner forgot his lines and they had to start over.

He even nearly twisted his ankle while moving into position.

The already shaky schedule took a hit; originally set to wrap at six, it dragged on until nine due to various mishaps.

And what really pissed him off was that Li Yanchuan hadn't replied to his messages all day.

Not just slow replies—he didn't reply at all!

He'd call later and give him a piece of his mind.

Fuming, Song Nian took the elevator to his floor. As he stepped out, the lights in the corridor suddenly went out.

The hotel had a power outage.

Great. This was the last straw.

Song Nian was on the verge of tears, feeling like today was cursed.

So much for 'every cloud has a silver lining'—it was just bad luck all the way.

Carefully, he felt along the wall in the dark, heading toward his room. Glancing up, he noticed a figure standing at the end of the hallway.

The window at the end was the only light source on the floor now. Moonlight poured in like a silver veil, draping over that person.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered and slim-waisted, with a powerful back. Standing against the moonlight, he blocked most of the light, giving off an oppressive aura.

Hearing a sound behind him, the man slowly turned, his gaze shifting from outside to the corridor.

In the darkness, his features were unclear, but his sharp eyes shone with a dangerous intensity.

Like a lion zeroing in on its prey, his gaze locked onto Song Nian, unblinking.

Across the long corridor, Song Nian shivered involuntarily, feeling like he was about to be devoured.

Who was this guy? He didn't recall seeing him in the crew.

Even though he couldn't see his face clearly, his striking presence was unmistakable—he'd definitely remember seeing him.

Tall and imposing, with eyes so dangerous, he seemed to be up to no good.

And this hotel was booked by the crew; only staff and cast members could get in.

Could it be... a stalker?

His heart skipped a beat at the thought, making him panic.

He had to get into his room and alert hotel security.

But awkwardly, his room was right near the man.

With no other choice, he steeled himself and shuffled forward cautiously, step by step.

The more nervous he became, the more prone he was to mistakes. When he reached his door and fumbled for his key card, he heard the man's footsteps getting closer.

Tap, tap. Each footfall was exceptionally steady and powerful, like a drumbeat striking the heart, making the heartbeat quicken uncontrollably.

Then, the footsteps stopped three paces behind him, and the man's breathing became clearly audible—slightly hurried, and fervent.

Even with his back turned, Song Nian could feel that scorching gaze fixed firmly on him, sending his adrenaline soaring once more, and his scalp prickled.

Could he really be this unlucky today, with a stalker fan coming after him?

He couldn't help but groan inwardly, but before he could come up with a plan, the next second, those strong, solid arms unexpectedly reached out and tightly encircled his waist.

One hand traveled upward to grip his chin.

The strong force forced Song Nian backward, his back colliding with a broad, firm chest, trapping him in an inescapable embrace.

In the dim, empty hallway, with his body tightly restrained, and the possibility of a large hand covering his mouth at the slightest sound, it was a scene full of dangerous signals.

It seemed that something terrible might happen in the next moment.

The man leaned down, bringing his lips close to Song Nian's ear.

Alarms blared in his mind; cold sweat instantly soaked through Song Nian's back.

His heart pounded wildly. Just as he braced himself for some lewd remark or some monstrous deed, he shut his eyes in fear.

But all he heard was the man's deep voice, whispering in his ear:

"What's got you so nervous?"

The moment he recognized the voice, Song Nian's mind went blank for two seconds.

That familiar tone...!

Then he snapped back to reality, whirled around, and looked up.

Coincidentally, the hotel's power system came back on at that moment, and a bright light suddenly lit up the hallway.

It also lit up Li Yanchuan's face.

Seeing the stunned expression on the person in his arms, he chuckled softly and rubbed his thumb across Song Nian's cheek, asking gently:

"After all this time, don't you miss me?"

For a moment he was stunned, then all the dejection and fear vanished, replaced by a rush of joy and surprise—a complex mix of emotions flooded his heart, leaving him utterly astonished.

In disbelief, he grabbed Li Yanchuan's arm, afraid he was hallucinating, and looked him up and down.

Was this real? Why was Li Yanchuan standing before him?

No wheelchair, no support—just standing steadily on his own.

"Are... are you really Yan Chuan?"

His eyes widened, a mix of joy and panic, and even his voice trembled, afraid that the sight before him was an illusion.

"Only a month apart, and you don't recognize me anymore?"

With that, Li Yanchuan smiled and leaned in closer.

His handsome face suddenly loomed closer in Song Nian's view—indeed, it was the familiar face.

But his gaze was more resolute and deep, as if it could pull a person in.

"When did you start standing again? How come I didn't know at all!"

Once he confirmed it wasn't an illusion, a surge of wild joy erupted from deep within Song Nian, and he nearly jumped up, gripping Li Yanchuan's arm tightly in excitement.

"To give you a surprise," Li Yanchuan said with a soft smile.

His leg condition had actually been improving for a while, but he had kept it a secret until he could stand before him fully recovered.

He hadn't replied all day because he was setting up the surprise and had no signal on the plane.

The sudden blackout was a serendipitous twist of fate, adding a special charm to their reunion.

The lights flickering off and on felt like spotlights just for them, casting a beam that captured all attention.

"Congratulations, Yan Chuan."

Gazing into his deep eyes, Song Nian's eyes crinkled with joy, and he sniffed before offering a sincere congratulations in a choked voice.

Recovering the use of his legs meant that Li Yanchuan had completely broken free from the original plot—no longer a pawn, but free to choose his own future.

From now on, the road ahead would be smooth.

And Li Yanchuan, equally captivated, stared into Song Nian's eyes, unable to look away for a long time.

He had a thousand things he wanted to say, but they all got stuck in his throat, unable to come out, so he simply tightened his embrace.

Just as they were holding each other tightly, the ding of the elevator startled them back to reality.

There were other crew members using rooms on this floor, and not wanting anyone to discover Li Yanchuan's presence, Song Nian swiped the key card and quickly pulled the man inside.

Standing at the entrance, he suddenly thought: Wait, why am I hiding?

They weren't sneaking around or doing anything inappropriate. Publicly, Li Yanchuan was an investor in the show; privately, they were legally married.

It was the lingering romantic mood that made him feel guilty for no reason—anyone might think they were having an affair.

Amused at himself, Song Nian chuckled, then looked up at Li Yanchuan and asked for confirmation:

"You're not lying to me, are you? You can really stand for good now?"

Watching Song Nian press his hands against his chest, leaning on him and nuzzling like a curious puppy sniffing for clues, Li Yanchuan let out a low laugh.

Then he answered with an action.

Suddenly, the world spun before Song Nian's eyes, and when he realized it, he found himself lying against the man's chest.

Li Yanchuan had scooped him up in a bridal carry.

He blinked rapidly, confused, and instinctively looked up at the man.

"Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

Li Yanchuan kissed the top of his head, then walked slowly and steadily toward the floor-to-ceiling window, carrying him in his arms.

Every step he took was steady and powerful, neither hurried nor leisurely, striding forward, showing that he had fully recovered and no longer needed a wheelchair.

The moment he collided into the man's embrace, his head rested against the bulging, tense pectoral muscles, and the scent of the man's cold, sharp cologne filled his nostrils, making Song Nian's head spin.

Li Yanchuan's warm palm touched the crook of Song Nian's knee, and his arm was firm and hot around Song Nian's shoulders. Not only did his vision begin to blur, but his heartbeat also became uncontrollable, skipping beats and thumping in his chest.

In front of the floor-to-ceiling window, the transparent glass reflected the figures of the two of them.

The intimate scene was clearly visible.

Glancing sideways, even in the dim light, Song Nian could still see the flush rising on his own cheeks.

His heart was racing.

His face was burning red.