PHM chapter 15

Yan Xi kissed him messily, completely lacking any technique. His movements were nothing but panic and confusion.

Pei Yuxing lowered his head and let him cling to him. He neither pushed him away nor stopped him, but he did not make any move to reciprocate, either.

He merely bent slightly with the collar Yan Xi had pulled down, standing exactly where he was without moving his feet even half a step.

Yan Xi felt like he was clutching a block of wood.

But wood didn’t have body heat, nor would it grow soft.

His movements were clumsy, and his teeth accidentally knocked against Pei Yuxing’s lips, causing a little pain.

He unconsciously sucked in a breath, and the next second, a large hand slowly cradled the back of his head and gently rubbed it once.

Someone from one of the nearby buildings suddenly shouted, causing the voice-activated light to flicker on.

Yan Xi came to his senses and pulled away slightly from the man, his breathing rapid from nervousness.

Pei Yuxing smiled faintly. His gaze remained calm and unruffled, as though he hadn’t been affected at all. He merely shook his head slightly.

Every inch of exposed skin on Yan Xi’s body turned red.

At this moment, he was actually grateful that he was drunk. Whatever he did, he had an excuse.

But he didn’t want to make up any lies.

The man standing before him was gentle, powerful, tolerant, patient, and had a restrained yet unmistakable masculinity.

He knew he had fallen for Pei Yuxing.

“Pei Yuxing.” Yan Xi’s hand trembled uncontrollably, and even the syllables he spoke came out shaking. He said, “Let’s get married.”

Pei Yuxing had once asked him that very question, and Yan Xi had finally given him an answer.

He raised his head and quietly looked at the man, waiting for his response.

Pei Yuxing straightened his disheveled jacket for him and said calmly, “You’re drunk.”

Yan Xi froze. “You don’t believe me?”

“I just hope you won’t make a decision you’ll regret.”

“Why do you think I’ll regret it?”

“You’re still young.”

Yan Xi had never been this stubborn before. He calmly explained, “But you’re the one who asked me to think about it. I’ve thought it through.”

Pei Yuxing: “……”

A faint sigh echoed through the silent stairwell.

“Yan Xi.” Pei Yuxing called his name solemnly. “Once the arrow leaves the bow, there’s no turning back. Marriage isn’t as simple as dating. You need to think it through carefully.”

“I know.” Yan Xi never looked away from him. “Then, will you marry me?”

Pei Yuxing’s gaze softened. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

Even now, thinking back on it still felt incredibly surreal.

The nation’s beloved male idol on screen, the godlike man who had calmly and composedly declared to the media that he would never marry, had actually descended into the mortal world for him.

—

They stayed in Licheng for two days. When it was time to leave, Yin Shanglan finally made it back.

She wore elegant, exquisite makeup and a brand-new, expensive V-neck fitted dress, with a white, high-quality women’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders. Her beauty was undeniable. Her son had inherited all the best features of her appearance, so much so that even the Old Madam of the Pei family, who looked down on her, could only express her displeasure indirectly by calling her a “beauty who brings ruin.”

The gifts to take back to Jincheng had already been prepared and arranged to be shipped ahead.

Although she didn’t get along with the Pei family’s matriarch, Yin Shanglan would never neglect proper etiquette. It was simply a matter of spending some money, and buying herself some peace and quiet was well worth it.

The gifts for Yan Xi’s grandparents had been arranged separately. From what he overheard Yin Shanglan’s assistant mention, she seemed to have put a great deal of thought into them.

Her favoritism was blatantly obvious.

Yan Xi suddenly felt a little ashamed. He had come all the way here without doing anything for either of their parents.

Pei Yuxing comforted him. “For elders, even picking a flower from the garden and giving it to them is enough to make them happy.”

“What about you?” Yan Xi asked. “Do you feel the same way?”

Pei Yuxing said, “You’re not my junior.”

Yan Xi smiled. A notification sounded from the memo app on his phone. After seeing the event and date displayed on the screen, he walked a little to the side.

He wasn’t actually very far away, and Pei Yuxing could still see his screen when he turned his head.

Yan Xi had donated a sum of money to a charitable foundation. It wasn’t a large amount.

Pei Yuxing suddenly remembered that he seemed to have seen him doing the same thing last month.

The donor’s note had been: “Uncle Huo.”

It was the name of a character he had played in a youth campus drama several years ago.

Pei Yuxing had acted in countless films, with roles ranging from imposing ancient emperors to shy campus heartthrobs. His range was astonishing.

He was simply a natural-born acting prodigy. When he first transitioned into film, he still accepted youthful, innocent roles. Later, as his life experience grew, perhaps his state of mind had changed, or perhaps he wanted to challenge himself with more difficult roles. Either way, he never appeared in youth films again.

During an interview, a reporter brought up the matter.

“Younger fans really want to see you act in a campus role again, but you seem to have stopped accepting such scripts. Do you feel that campus dramas have restricted you?”

Pei Yuxing smiled. “No. I’ve simply changed my mindset.”

The reporter followed up, “Does that mean you’ll act in another campus drama in the future? But you’re no longer at the age for those roles. Aren’t you afraid the audience will be disappointed?”

Pei Yuxing still smiled faintly. “The audience won’t be disappointed simply because you’ve gotten older.”

“Then, finally, may I make a somewhat presumptuous request?” The young female reporter gathered her courage. “My younger sister is your biggest fan. She owns your music CDs and all your films and has been waiting for you to appear in another campus drama for a long time. She’s fourteen this year, but she only has three months left to live, so…”

At this point, a staff member had already stepped forward.

“Please don’t ask questions outside the scope of the interview. We don’t accept fan interactions!”

Security came over as well. Before the female reporter was taken away, she stubbornly finished her question.

“Will you act in a campus drama again? I just want an answer.”

Unfortunately, she never heard it. Her press badge and recording equipment had been taken away, and whatever Pei Yuxing said, the microphone seemed to have malfunctioned. None of his words were transmitted.

Yet not long afterward, he appeared in a newly released youth campus film.

It was a melodramatic youth film—the kind audiences would complain about and critics would mercilessly tear apart.

The entire film was full of cliché plot twists. The male and female leads repeatedly got together and broke up because of various “circumstances beyond their control,” while the grudges of the previous generation only made their already difficult romance even more complicated.

In the end, the two missed their chance and reunited years later. The male lead mentioned the missing uncle who had been a constant presence throughout the film, existing only in conversations and memories.

“This is his alma mater. He might have been your mother’s classmate once.”

As the ending theme began to play, the camera slowly moved forward from the back of the classroom. Students ran past in front of the lens. Once they disappeared from view, the color tone shifted back to the 1990s.

The desks became old and worn, and the classroom windows were framed with wood and glass.

The young uncle sat in the male lead’s seat, wearing a blue-and-white school uniform zipped all the way to the top. A pen rested between his fingers as he propped his chin up and looked out at the bustling schoolyard.

The camera focused on his neat short hair and slender back.

Someone called out his name.

“Uncle Huo.”

The uncle turned around at the sound.

It was the youthful, long-unseen Pei Yuxing.

He smiled at the camera, bright and innocent.

It was said that the cinema erupted right then. Screams nearly tore the roof off, and some fans accidentally spilled their cola onto the row in front of them, sending popcorn scattering across the floor.

After all, no one could have imagined that an international film emperor would appear in a film like this.

There wasn’t even a trace of him on the poster, and his name didn’t appear in the special-appearance credits.

Neither his status nor the film’s quality gave the two any reason to be associated with each other.

Not long afterward, Pei Yuxing and the film both made the trending searches.

The changes in the comments section were hilarious—from “What kind of garbage dares to piggyback off his fame?” at first, to “Is there something wrong with my eyes?”

Some even questioned why an international film emperor would have such low standards for money, while mocking comments sprang up like mushrooms after rain. His fans were heartbroken.

Pei Yuxing’s acting hadn’t declined at all, but he really shouldn’t have accepted a film like this.

@WhenWillWinterStopSnowing: I believe you aren’t short of money. Why would you ruin the reputation you’ve spent so many years building? As a longtime fan who’s followed you since your band days, I can’t understand it. Is money really that alluring? Perhaps movie fans aren’t important to you anymore. I’ve thought about it for a long time, but I still can’t figure it out.

There were many aggressive accusations, but Pei Yuxing wasn’t angry. He calmly offered an explanation.

@PeiPeiYuxing: It was a gift for a young fan.

Not long afterward, the film’s director spoke up, explaining that Teacher Pei Yuxing had appeared in the film for free. They had been extremely surprised when he contacted them, but he was unwilling to say more about the reason. One thing they could confirm was that the rumor he had lowered himself for money was completely false.

That explanation wasn’t impossible to accept, but it still wasn’t enough.

The trending topic remained for two days. On the evening of the second day, the verified account of a magazine reposted a private post.

It was from the female reporter.

@JixingNewsAnna: I’ve been busy at the hospital all day. I finally finished arranging for my sister’s remains to be donated. She was only fourteen, yet she was far greater than anyone else in our family. Whether it was her grandparents or her parents, everyone was proud of her. After being tormented by illness for more than ten years, she finally reached this day. Congratulations on being free. If there is a next life, I hope you’ll come back to our family. This time, we’ll definitely give you a healthy body.

There are actually so many regrets. She enrolled in a painting class but never got to attend. She went to school for one day and missed the next two. She never got to see the newly renovated room we’d prepared for her. Her childhood and youth consisted of white hospital sheets and cold medical equipment. The only color in her life was probably seeing her favorite celebrity on television. Her eyes would light up, and she’d innocently say that she wished she could speak to him.

I studied desperately and went through countless hardships to become a reporter. I’ve met many celebrities and conducted countless interviews. Every time I went home to see her, that little girl would praise me for being amazing and say I was the person she admired most. I’d ask, “Do you admire me more than Pei Yuxing?” And then she’d stop talking. My heart would shatter into pieces. [Heartbroken]

We’ve received critical-condition notices more times than I can count, but this time was the final warning. Her body could no longer hold on. She was covered in tubes and medical equipment. In a daze, she told me, “Sis, I want to watch TV.” She didn’t react to anything else, but when I switched to Confessions, she seemed a little more alert. It was a youth film from ten years ago. I didn’t know whether she actually liked this genre or simply liked Pei Yuxing.

She never finished watching it. The periods when she was conscious grew shorter and shorter. Today, she’d already held on for a very long time.

“Next time he has a new movie, I’ll take you to see it.”

That’s what I promised her. The little girl still had enough strength to turn her head.

“It has to be a campus movie.”

She was lucky to have anything to watch, yet she still had requirements.

I finally got the chance to interview Pei Yuxing. I asked him whether he would accept another campus drama, but unfortunately, I was escorted out for asking about fan interactions before I could get an answer. [Laughing Crying]

I really wanted an answer, but I didn’t hold out much hope. Even if he made one, she probably wouldn’t have the chance to see it in a cinema.

So when a colleague sent me the trending topic and the edited clips, I was completely stunned. I don’t even remember how I walked to her hospital bed and held the phone in front of her.

“It’s a movie released today. Pei Yuxing is in it.”

She was almost asleep, yet she struggled to open her eyes. Just a tiny slit. Her lips moved, but she couldn’t speak at all. I leaned close to her ear and listened for a long time before finally realizing that she was following the male lead and calling him, “Uncle Huo.”

But the Pei Yuxing on the screen looked very young.

The scene replayed several times. The little girl should have been satisfied. She finally closed her eyes again.

This time, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

When she woke up again, it should be a year later, as a cute little baby.

……

Until the very end, the post never tagged or specifically thanked Pei Yuxing.

But that didn’t stop it from being widely reposted. For some reason, however, its popularity never rose too high. It seemed that someone was deliberately keeping it from trending, not wanting the patient’s family to be disturbed.

The female reporter’s Weibo account never updated again either. Even now, the latest post remains that one.

“Uncle Huo” also became one of the labels associated with Pei Yuxing.

Yan Xi had seen it back then, too. He had even reread it over and over, his heart aching.

When he learned that the little girl had passed away, what had Pei Yuxing felt?

He certainly wished the little girl could survive, but there were too many things in life beyond his control. All he could do was reduce her regrets.

Pei Yuxing was right when he said he wasn’t Yan Xi’s junior—he really wasn’t.

In the film, “Uncle Huo” disappeared. In real life, Yan Xi held tightly onto his own “Uncle Huo.”

—

As soon as they landed back in Jincheng, Brother Feng sent over the materials for Chinese Poetry and Culture Conference.

The program staff had already done some preliminary research. One of them was Professor Lu Wenqi, an elderly professor from the College of Literature at Xingshi University. He had once been a classmate of Yan Xi’s grandfather, though the two hadn’t kept in touch much and could hardly be considered acquainted.

Yan Xi went to ask his grandfather whether he still remembered him.

When Old Mr. Yan Peili heard the familiar name, he gave a cold snort.

“Old-fashioned. Doesn’t know how to adapt. Too picky. Completely unreasonable.”

There wasn’t a single kind word.

It was strange what grudge the two had against each other. They hadn’t been in contact for years, so it wasn’t like either of them had ever won the other’s money at a mahjong table.

To avoid getting caught in the crossfire, Yan Xi took the gifts Madam Yin Shanglan had sent home and quietly left.

Yan Xi began reviewing Chinese Poetry and Culture Conference from the very first episode. He took notes while watching and occasionally discussed things with the others in the group chat.

There wasn’t much they could actually discuss. The other three members of NEVER were nearly falling asleep while watching, yet still stubbornly sent questions in the group.

Lin Yi: Are we really participating in this? Are they seriously not asking us to perform sleeping?

Xia Zefan: I’m thinking. It’s been seven or eight years since we finished the college entrance exam, so why are we still expected to uphold this spirit?

Ji Zhou: Same.

Yan Xi: I think it’s pretty interesting. I hope there’ll be more programs like this.

The group chat filled with: ……

Lin Yi: Forget it. Let’s make our own group. I don’t want to talk to a top student.

Yan Xi laughed and turned back to the program.

When Pei Yuxing came out after taking a shower, he saw Yan Xi lying on his stomach on the bed. His iPad and notebook were beside him, filled with densely written notes, with a Poetry Conference label stuck on them.

“Why aren’t you studying in the study?” He reached out and rubbed Yan Xi’s neck. “It’s bad for your cervical spine.”

“I’m almost finished.” Yan Xi was watching at increased speed. “We have a new assignment. We’re going as guest performers.”

Pei Yuxing hummed. “For literature, you can ask your grandfather.”

He immediately received a resentful look from his young husband.

Old Mr. Yan Peili was extremely strict with his grandchildren. Every summer during elementary and middle school, Yan Xi’s cousins would all be sent over by their aunts to study together. Even now, whenever they brought it up, their brows would furrow, their expressions full of pain and trauma.

Yan Xi could completely imagine that if he asked his grandfather for help, the old man wouldn’t simply give him the answer. He’d turn it into a whole lesson instead.

Back to the Past.jpg

It was practically hell on earth.

Seeing his expression, Pei Yuxing was quite pleased with himself after teasing his husband, only to receive a kick.

It wasn’t a strong kick, and he easily caught the leg and held it in his hand.

Yan Xi struggled twice. After failing both times, he simply gave up and continued watching the program while lying on his stomach.

Pei Yuxing sat beside him and kept him company. He never disturbed Yan Xi when he was working.

When Professor Lu Wenqi was mentioned, Pei Yuxing said calmly, “I’ve interacted with him at Xingshi University before. He’s not particularly strict as a person, but he’s very rigorous when it comes to literature. He doesn’t like students who act like they know everything or talk nonsense.”

Yan Xi immediately understood.

If you knew something, you knew it. If you didn’t, you didn’t. Don’t pretend to understand someone else’s field.

The two watched the program together in the room. Pei Yuxing occasionally pointed things out, mostly explaining the highlights and the program’s structure—why the host was prompting the students at certain moments, and even whether the production team had encountered a minor mishap.

The first variety show Yan Xi had participated in was Entertainment, Life. Whatever experience he had gained from it was like a drop in the ocean compared with Pei Yuxing’s. He learned a great deal from him, and the admiration in his gaze toward his husband became impossible to hide.

Pei Yuxing caught his gaze but said nothing. His large hand gently rested on his head.

He looked very pleased.

After two days and two nights of organizing, Yan Xi finally finished sorting out all the relevant documents the production team needed.

On this particular day, the weather was clear and pleasant. Several files appeared in the group chat.

Yan Xi: 【An Introduction to the History of the Development of Chinese Traditional Culture. Lu Wenqi. Xingshi University Press.pdf】

Yan Xi: 【Illustrated Guide to Chinese History and Cultural Relics. Jincheng University Press.pdf】

Yan Xi: 【Illustrated Guide to History and Humanities. Renwen University Press.pdf】

Yan Xi: There are three days left until filming. You have two days to finish reading them.

Yan Xi: I’m not joking. I’ll quiz you on the third day.

Lin Yi: …？

Xia Zefan: …？

Ji Zhou: …？