AITFYMIBP Chapter 96

TL: Hua

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At first, the comments were filled with rows of question marks.

Immediately after, they were replaced by rows of “AHHHHHHHHHH” from the fans who arrived.

When the Siran army arrived and saw that their CP wasn’t playing a bromance but a tragic love-hate relationship, they immediately transformed into groundhogs and screaming chickens, losing all their sense of selves.

Siye & Yanran

Love-Hate!

Tragic! Beautiful! Romance!

The CP fans were losing their minds. They even wondered if the editor had made a typo!

An official, mainstream TV program—was this something CP fans were actually allowed to see?!

They must have burned high-quality incense in their past lives for this luck!!!

Ship it, ship it, ship it!!!!!

Half an hour later, the top comment under the official Weibo became:

Siran is real: Content this good should be released immediately!!! What’s the point of hiding it until tomorrow!!!!

The Best Screenwriter team had been keeping it a secret through all the previous drama.

Now that they could finally promote Gu Siye’s guest appearance openly, they bought the number one trending spot, wanting to announce the Siran collaboration to the whole world.

Once the trending topic was bought, even more people found out.

Previously, Lin Yanran had been unfairly implicated because the original male actor ran away due to homophobia. Now, everyone realized his partner had been upgraded several levels, becoming Gu Siye.

Hearing this news, many people were so happy that tears of joy streamed from the corners of their mouths, while others were so envious their eyes started dripping blood.

[Has The Best Screenwriter hit the jackpot after previously dealing with that nest of legal offenders? They actually managed to get Teacher Gu to save the day??]

[Gu Siye really hasn’t acted in years. I have been dying to see his film and television works.]

[I vaguely remember a lot of idiots making fun of Yanran before. Those people better come out and see who his partner is.]

[And for those saying the guest performer is just taking over a mess, you call Gu Siye taking over a mess??]

[I’m so jealous of Yanran; Teacher Gu has never acted in a romance before!]

[Looking forward to it, I’m so excited!!]

[Waaaaah, today is another day of crying hard for the friendship between Teacher Gu and Teacher Yanran~]

Gu Siye’s sudden addition instantly turned the “Imperial Power” crew, which everyone had been mocking, into the most sought-after sweet pastry in the spotlight.

Especially after learning the two were playing a couple, the audience couldn’t wait, urging the TV station to broadcast it immediately.

Consequently, on the day the first episode of The Best Screenwriter aired, the ratings broke 1.0 just as the show started.

Even the viewership during the pre-show commercials increased without dropping.

For a brand-new show that hadn’t even finished one episode to crush other satellite stations during commercial breaks proved that the collaboration between Gu Siye and Lin Yanran was essentially a traffic cheat code.

With the audience so enthusiastic, the TV station received numerous calls from sponsors, all wanting to buy the golden advertising slots right before the duo’s segment.

The station was absolutely beaming with joy.

However, the production team certainly wouldn’t release this “wealth code” right at the start.

They deliberately edited the first episode so that “Imperial Power” appeared last.

The audience watched TV while scrolling through their phones; after enduring the first three programs, they finally saw the host return to the stage.

“The next group… oh, this is going to be good!”

As soon as the host said this, the audience understood immediately.

It’s here, it’s here! After waiting all night, it’s finally here.

However, during the recording, the production team seemed to have briefed the host beforehand, so he kept teasing the audience to keep them in suspense.

“Before the work is played, The Best Screenwriter team would like to solemnly thank our two guest performers. You’ve worked hard, truly hard.”

“The birth of this work was really not easy.”

Viewers at home, hearing him dawdle and ramble on, were itching to rush in and punch him.

Realizing he was offending everyone, the host chuckled, “If I keep talking, someone might start throwing eggs at me.”

Having some self-awareness, he immediately turned serious: “The next work comes from screenwriter Sun Hangyi. His theme is a melodramatic, tragic love story set in ancient times. Now, let’s look at the big screen together.”

After waiting all night for the drama they wanted to see, the live-streaming threads across various websites were instantly flooded with “AHHHHHHHH”s, moving at a speed of dozens of posts per second.

The camera cut, and the words “Imperial Power” appeared on the screen.

Due to the limited time, the director, Guo Fang, used a voiceover to cover the less important background details.

It began with a heavy, powerful male voice reciting the backstory.

“In the eighth year of Hongyi, Emperor Sheng Quan fell in love with Princess Gui Zhao at first sight. He subsequently killed her lover and forced the princess into marriage. However, at that time, the princess was already pregnant…”

“The princess gave birth prematurely at eight months but died of a hemorrhage after delivering her young son, Sheng Yi. Sheng Yi’s birth coincided with a solar eclipse; the Imperial Observatory observed the celestial omens and declared the Third Prince to be inauspicious. In a fit of rage, Sheng Quan threw his infant son into the Cold Palace.”

…

The protagonist’s background and the web of love and hate were introduced in just a few dozen seconds.

The audience watching the TV was stunned.

[Holy sh*t, Sheng Yi and Sheng Zhao… is this pseudo-incest? This setting is so stimulating!!]

[Looking at the intro, it’s a taboo love of incest, moral corruption, dog-blood, and revenge!!! My god, I love this level of intensity!!!]

[Production team, you’re so brave!]

[Siran, you guys are amazing!! You actually dared to act in this!!!]

[Ahhhhhhh, two handsome guys filming a taboo love is truly a public service!]

[Thank you, handsome guys!]

Now knowing the setting, the excited viewers rubbed their hands together, eyes glued to the screen, desperate to know the rest of the plot.

The early scenes weren’t melodramatic; they followed the two child actors as they introduced the first meeting of the leads, gradually transitioning into their adult versions.

In the early adult plot, it was mostly the younger brother secretly pining for the older brother, while the older brother sensed it but didn’t speak out, responding subtly.

There was a thin veil of window paper between them, ambiguous yet sweet.

The scene where they released flower lanterns together was particularly well-crafted by Guo Fang; the shots were sweet and aesthetic.

As thousands of lanterns bloomed in the sky, Sheng Zhao’s eyes held only one person.

Little did he know that Sheng Yi, while lighting the lanterns, was also stealing glances at him.

In late winter, heavy snow fell outside the palace.

Sheng Zhao had been confined to his sickbed for months and was extremely sensitive to the cold.

Sheng Yi had specially ordered people to take the fur of a wild fox to make him a winter cloak.

As soon as it was finished, he went straight to Sheng Zhao’s bedchamber.

“Xiao Zhao!”

Sheng Yi entered excitedly, only to find the bed empty.

His heart suddenly dropped, and his expression changed instantly.

A while ago, Sheng Zhao had fallen seriously ill. The imperial physician had tactfully advised Sheng Yi that letting him walk around and breathe fresh air would help his recovery.

So, he had removed the chain from the other man’s ankle and granted him the privilege of moving freely within the palace.

But once the chain was gone, Sheng Yi lived in constant fear that one day he would wake up and the other would no longer be by his side.

Seeing no one in the bed, Sheng Yi turned to look for him, only to find Sheng Zhao standing behind him.

He was wearing the new clothes Sheng Yi had sent before the New Year, and his complexion looked much better than in previous days.

Sheng Yi looked at the person before him, dazed for a moment.

Sheng Zhao called out softly, “Brother.”

That long-lost “brother” made Sheng Yi’s throat tighten.

Looking at the person in front of him, that word seemed to take him back to the past.

Back then, he was the brother Sheng Zhao trusted most.

The younger one used to play little tricks just to make Sheng Yi hold his hand while walking or carry him home on his back.

He used to follow behind him, calling “Brother, Brother,” and his eyes were always full of light and stars whenever he looked at him.

After steadying his emotions, Sheng Yi spoke slowly, “It’s been a long time since I heard you call me that.”

Sheng Zhao smiled. “Is it?”

Seeing Sheng Zhao smile at him, Sheng Yi quickly followed suit.

He helped the other person wrap the cloak around his shoulders and asked, “Is there some happy occasion today?”

Sheng Zhao shook his head. “I just thought since today is the Lantern Festival, I wanted to go out and see the lanterns.”

Sheng Yi’s movements stiffened.

He looked at the person before him; seeing Sheng Zhao’s eyes full of anticipation, he couldn’t bear to refuse him.

“Alright.”

Sheng Yi fastened the cloak for Sheng Zhao and tried, as he once did, to reach out his hand.

He was prepared to be rejected, but to his surprise, Sheng Zhao smiled brightly and took his hand.

Just like old times.

On the bustling street, Sheng Yi held Sheng Zhao’s hand and strolled under the lanterns, as if in another world.

“I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time.”

Sheng Zhao nodded. He looked up at the sky, his eyes full of longing.

“It’s very free here.”

Sheng Yi’s hand, which was fiddling with a nearby lantern, froze in mid-air.

He didn’t dare respond to those words, but he gripped the hand in his palm even tighter.

As if talking to himself, Sheng Zhao watched the moon for a while before saying to Sheng Yi, “Brother, let’s go to the Zhaixing Tower.”

Sheng Yi didn’t move. “A new moon viewing pavilion was built in the west market. The scenery there is better. If you want to release lanterns, why don’t we go there?”

Hearing this, Sheng Zhao shook his head. “It wasn’t for the scenery anyway.”

He turned to look at Sheng Yi, a faint smile curling his lips. “Brother, do you still remember? At the Zhaixing Tower, you once carried me on your back.”

Sheng Yi froze.

It felt as if a piece of his heart had been violently carved out; he could barely stand steady.

Xiao Zhao wanted to go to the Zhaixing Tower only because it held their shared memories.

After a long silence, Sheng Yi, as carefully as he used to, hoisted Sheng Zhao onto his back.

“Now, I am carrying you again.”

Sheng Yi held Sheng Zhao tightly, feeling that he was much thinner than before.

As he carried him on his back, he could barely feel any weight at all.

Realizing the magnitude of the sins he had once committed against Sheng Zhao, Sheng Yi’s heart felt as though it were being pierced by a blade.

“Xiao Zhao, I’m sorry.”

“Actually… I did think about stopping.”

The night you confessed your feelings to me, I also thought about ending it all, living a carefree life with you, and growing old together.

The imperial power was nothing more than a tool for revenge to me; I never truly craved it.

That man took my parents’ lives, so naturally, I had to take what he valued most.

He loved his empire above all else, so I resolved to seize his throne.

My feelings for you were never feigned.

It was just that, before his death, that man discovered my true identity. He prepared to desecrate my mother’s grave and have me secretly executed.

At that time, the situation was beyond my control. If I hadn’t pushed forward, I might not have even kept my life to see you again.

I don’t want to hide this from you. I only wanted to wait until everything was settled to explain it to you slowly.

But when that time finally came, I realized we had already reached a point of no return.

Sheng Yi recalled the past, yet for a moment, he didn’t know where to begin explaining.

There were too many misunderstandings between them, and he had hurt Sheng Zhao too deeply.

One incident after another tangled together like a mess of hemp; it was impossible to untangle even if he wanted to speak.

Sheng Yi didn’t know where to start, but Sheng Zhao simply gave a faint, indifferent smile.

He fixed his gaze on Sheng Yi’s black hair and, by the moonlight, noticed a few strands of white.

“Actually, there is no difference between you being the emperor and me being the emperor.”

“I never liked the imperial court to begin with; I only ever wanted to be an idle person.” Sheng Zhao carefully smoothed out those few white hairs while speaking softly, “Being an emperor is so exhausting. Even if you hadn’t…”

Sheng Zhao paused and immediately changed his phrasing. “Even if I had become the emperor back then, with my temperament, I would have only been a self-indulgent ruler.”

Hearing Sheng Zhao call himself a self-indulgent ruler, Sheng Yi immediately protested. “How could that be? You are compassionate and kind-hearted…”

As he spoke, Sheng Yi couldn’t help but imagine Sheng Zhao as an emperor. His expression softened with a smile.

“If you had ascended the throne, you would surely have been a great emperor revered by all.”

Sheng Zhao laughed and shook his head. “At best, I would have been a mediocre one without merit or fault, just drifting through life.”

He gently brushed the white hairs on Sheng Yi’s head, his eyes showing a hint of heartache.

“Actually, it’s good that you are the Emperor. You have governed these vast lands very well.”

Though you kept saying you wanted to destroy the empire our father built, you are the one who cares most for the world and its people.

“The officials of the previous dynasty curse you for being ruthless and malicious, but your iron-fisted methods have truly allowed the common people to live better lives.”

Sheng Zhao curled those white hairs around his fingertip. “The people need you.”

After saying this, Sheng Zhao took a deep breath, and his tone became lighthearted again. “If those things hadn’t happened back then, perhaps by now, you would have already become the most outstanding king of Guizhao.”

Now that the two were mentioning the past again, they no longer had to avoid the subject.

Sheng Yi wasn’t angry at all; instead, he made a joke. “How do you know I would have been a king and not a profligate dandy?”

Sheng Zhao nodded mischievously. “True. You are so handsome; you probably would have racked up quite a few romantic debts.”

Sheng Yi couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d heard Sheng Zhao’s voice sound so vivid.

Seeing that Sheng Zhao was rarely this happy, he didn’t dare break this warmth. He simply carried him, walking forward step by step.

“No. If I owed anyone, it would only be one person. I would likely offer myself up and ask to marry into your household—to marry the Emperor, Sheng Zhao.”

Sheng Zhao’s face turned bright red at Sheng Yi’s improper words. He leaned his head on Sheng Yi’s shoulder and smiled softly. “Brother, you are teasing me again.”

With that, he lightly rubbed his cheek against Sheng Yi’s clothes, like a lazy, pampered kitten.

Sheng Zhao recalled that the other party had carried him up the Zhaixing Tower in the same way last time.

Back then, he had been so cautious, terrified that if he leaned too close, Sheng Yi would notice his hidden, shameful feelings.

He had once so desperately yearned to lean openly on the other’s shoulder and speak his mind.

Just imagining this scene back then would make his heart race and his face flush.

Now, he could finally be reckless for once.

He realized that leaning on Sheng Yi’s shoulder felt so warm.

Sheng Zhao closed his eyes; he wished he could walk on like this with Sheng Yi for a lifetime.

Sheng Zhao hadn’t spoken for a long time while leaning on his shoulder, and Sheng Yi thought he had fallen asleep.

After a long while, however, he suddenly heard a nearly inaudible voice from behind him.

Sheng Zhao said to him, “Let her go. She and those old officials are no longer able to oppose you.”

Sheng Yi did not answer.

Sheng Zhao closed his eyes again, acting as if he hadn’t spoken, sensibly dropping the matter.

The Zhaixing Pavilion was some distance away. Sheng Yi carried Sheng Zhao, walking step by step.

The bright moon hung high in the sky like a guiding lamp, casting the shadow of the two brothers clinging closely together.

After a long silence, a sigh echoed in the night air.

“Fine.”

Sheng Yi promised him, “As long as it is what you want, I will grant your wish.”

Sheng Zhao’s health was far from what it used to be. By the time they reached the pavilion, he had already drifted in and out of a light sleep.

Remembering that Sheng Yi had carried him for so long, he said, “Let me get down.”

Sheng Yi wouldn’t let go. “I’ll carry you up. You keep sleeping.”

Sheng Zhao didn’t get down, but looking at the narrow stairs, he could no longer sleep.

Fragments of the past flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern.

With every step Sheng Yi took, he remembered something from the past.

The good, the bad. The painful, the sweet.

He thought he had forgotten, but he found himself remembering it all with perfect clarity.

“Back then, I was plotted against by the Second Prince and almost poisoned. From then on, you had to test everything of mine with a silver needle and take a bite yourself first, protecting me with your life.”

Sheng Zhao spoke slowly, recounting their past.

“Three months later, the second prince died in an accident while hunting outside the palace.”

“I was very scared then, but you held me and slept beside me all night.”

“Before sleeping, you said to me, ‘Xiao Zhao, with me here, don’t be afraid.'”

Sheng Zhao tightened his hold on Sheng Yi’s shoulders. They had trusted each other so much back then.

He remembered telling Sheng Yi: You are the person I trust most.

He remembered clearly that the other had answered: I always will be.

So, when he was imprisoned in the palace with a chain and humiliated time and time again, Sheng Zhao couldn’t help but recall that night.

He asked himself repeatedly: Why do some people not keep the promises they made?

Sheng Zhao didn’t know when he had started crying.

He wiped his cheeks with his fingers, feeling two cold trails.

As he spoke, he accidentally caught a draft of wind, which triggered a violent fit of coughing.

“Stop talking for now. The wind is strong here.”

Sheng Yi stopped walking, his voice turning raspy at some point, as if he had been crying as well.

Sheng Zhao stubbornly shook his head and leaned his face against Sheng Yi’s shoulder again.

“But I want to talk to you.”

His voice was soft and muffled. “Brother, I have so much I want to say to you.”

I want to ask you… why did you choose me?

Was it because I was foolish and easy to deceive? Or was it because you saw my impure feelings for you long ago and chose to retaliate intentionally?

The more Sheng Zhao thought, the more his heart ached.

Brother, you didn’t actually need to deceive me.

Everything you wanted, I could have given to you.

Being the emperor is so tiring; I never wanted it at all.

As Sheng Zhao thought about it, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing again, soaking Sheng Yi’s robes.

He glanced around and realized they had reached the fourth floor. Only one more floor until the rooftop terrace.

He spoke hurriedly, his voice thick with a sob he couldn’t hide.

“Brother, that jade pendant… I destroyed it for you. In this world, there is nothing left that can threaten you.”

Sheng Yi stepped onto the final stair and gently set Sheng Zhao down.

He turned and cupped the younger man’s face, wiping the tears from the corners of his eyes.

Sheng Zhao’s words pierced him like needles, but he endured the pain, firmly correcting him: “There is. There is still one thing in this world I care for. I still want to start over with him.”

Sheng Zhao’s vision was blurred by tears.

He understood what Sheng Yi was saying, but there was no going back for them.

He carried the expectations of his mother and those officials, as well as the debt of sin his father owed to Sheng Yi.

Now, his mother and the remnants of the previous dynasty had all been imprisoned by Sheng Yi.

And his mother had used the same methods to force him to kill Sheng Yi.

He had become everyone’s bargaining chip and leverage. Yet, he couldn’t bear to fail either side.

“Don’t cry, don’t cry. If you don’t want to, I won’t force you.”

Sheng Yi found that he couldn’t wipe away Sheng Zhao’s tears no matter what he did. He thought that his words had angered Sheng Zhao, so he simply hugged him and apologized.

“I will release your mother and the others. If you don’t want to stay in the palace, you can go wherever you wish.”

Sheng Yi’s heart ached terribly.

When has he ever been this generous?

But intuition told him that this time, he had to be.

He kissed Sheng Zhao’s forehead with lingering reluctance.

He had kept him forcibly by his side for so long, only to find that, in the end, he could grasp nothing at all.

“Xiao Zhao, don’t cry. I’m letting you go. You’re free.”

Sheng Yi coaxed the person in his arms softly, failing to notice that Sheng Zhao hadn’t answered him.

Sheng Zhao stopped crying and reached up to gently stroke Sheng Yi’s face.

“Brother, shall we release a lantern?”

“Alright.”

Sheng Yi looked back at the terrace entrance. The secret guards following them immediately laid out the lantern, brush, and ink before vanishing back into the darkness.

Sheng Zhao remained silent, his eyes downcast.

Seeing this, Sheng Yi dismissed all the guards in the shadows.

Only when he saw Sheng Zhao relax did Sheng Yi hand him the brush, just as he used to.

“Xiao Zhao, come and write something.”

As Sheng Yi heard his own voice, he realized his vocal cords were trembling with every word.

How long has it been? He already regretted it.

He had promised to let him go, but he couldn’t bear to part with him.

Sheng Zhao didn’t look at Sheng Yi. He took the brush and looked down, earnestly writing four large characters on the lantern.

Just like before, they read: Peace and Joy.

“Brother, it’s finished. Send it up to the sky.”

Sheng Zhao handed the lantern to Sheng Yi with a beaming smile, his eyes full of expectation.

Sheng Yi looked deeply at him, wanting to etch this smile into his mind forever.

In the long, lonely life ahead, he would need this memory to hold onto.

“Brother, why aren’t you lighting it yet?”

At Sheng Zhao’s urging, Sheng Yi hurriedly looked down to help him light the lantern.

As the lantern took flight, Sheng Yi turned back to Sheng Zhao.

“Xiao Zhao, look—”

His voice broke on the last word.

He realized that Sheng Zhao, who had been standing beside him, was now perched on the edge of the low terrace railing.

Sheng Yi lunged forward, letting out a heart-wrenching scream.

“Xiao Zhao!!”

Sheng Zhao was still smiling, gentle and beautiful.

Under the moonlight, he looked like an immortal who had fallen into the mortal realm.

A moment before Sheng Yi reached him, he spoke softly: “Brother, I will pay back the life my father owes you.”

“In our next life, let us not be born into the imperial family.”

As he tilted his head back and leapt from the high tower, Sheng Zhao’s affectionate eyes remained fixed on the person he loved most. He was gentle to everyone but extremely ruthless to himself.

—

Director Guo Fang filmed the scene of Sheng Zhao jumping off the building in a very beautiful way.

Plaintive background music played as the beautiful youth in white descended, the wind whipping his robes into a fluttering dance.

The camera panned up from the image of Sheng Yi’s breakdown, reaching out but failing to catch Sheng Zhao, finally settling on the lantern that had already floated into the air.

The lantern spun in the wind.

On the side opposite the words “Peace and Joy,” Sheng Zhao had quietly written a line of small text.

“May I be like a star and you like the moon, shining brightly together night after night.”

If there is an afterlife, let us start over.