Shen Shuangjian actually knew nothing about the tremendous uproar that had suddenly swept the internet.
Afraid of causing harm by acting rashly, Xie Jinghui, with his exquisitely perceptive mind and his belief that he could see straight through people, found himself at a rare loss for words.
He feared that bringing it up abruptly would upset Shen Shuangjian. He also feared that Shen Shuangjian might not actually be that upset, and mentioning it now would only remind him again.
So he watched Shen Shuangjian go into the bathroom to wash up just as he had yesterday, then emerge a little over an hour later with the same calm expression.
Sitting by the bed, Shen Shuangjian wore the weariness and vulnerability Xie Jinghui had seen more than once. Xie Jinghui's eyes trembled, and only after a long time did he hear his own voice.
"Shuangjian, you..."
The person he called softly lay nestled in the soft pillows. At the sound, he merely lifted his eyelids without looking at him.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Xie."
There was a faint weariness and weakness in Shen Shuangjian's voice. His cold, long hair fell, concealing half his eyes and brows.
"I'm not feeling very well. If it isn't urgent, could you tell me tomorrow?"
As those tea-brown eyes slowly lowered, Xie Jinghui's heart seemed to sink with them.
He sat silently where he was. Only after a long time did he hesitantly reach out to touch Shen Shuangjian's lightly furrowed brow.
Outside the window, the moonlight was faint, its pallor almost desolate.
Xie Jinghui did not even dare smooth Shen Shuangjian's furrowed brow, afraid that his touch would wake the already light sleeper.
Just as with everything that had happened tonight, Xie Jinghui had too many reservations. He had to admit that he was like a timid teenage girl, nursing a secret crush that threw him alone into turmoil.
He feared that his clumsy attempts to draw close would drive Shen Shuangjian away, yet also feared that keeping far too much distance would leave Shen Shuangjian forever unaware.
He feared Shen Shuangjian finding out, yet also feared him never knowing.
And so he was forced to hold himself back, able only to yearn desperately for the possibility that the other person, like him, had at some moment considered letting his heart be moved.
"So why is it, and what should I use..."
-To exchange for what?
Xie Jinghui's voice was very soft. He pondered quietly, seeking an answer that would never come.
After several hours of brewing, the incident grew and grew. Every topic seemed to have been deliberately steered toward a single person: Shen Shuangjian.
The name Shen Shuangjian had appeared only a few short days ago, yet it had swept across the internet like a gale scattering clouds.
Edits of him emerged endlessly on every video platform, and the show he appeared on reached first place on the platform's rising and trending charts.
Many dramas, films, and shows based on popular IPs lost large numbers of viewers, and quite a few promotional events for both industry newcomers and veterans happened to coincide with this.
Yet no one could dig up any dirt from Shen Shuangjian's past. Paid smear pieces were unavailable, while the fans who had stopped supporting Xie Qingchi and were still full of hostility could find nothing to vent it on.
Popularity brought controversy, whether it was passersby who liked seeking attention online, viewers whose rebellious streak had been provoked, or Xie Qingchi's fans, who had been mocked with so many barbed insinuations over the past two days that they were now hypersensitive.
At this moment, almost all of them sprang out at once, like rats catching the scent of grease, throwing themselves desperately at the first opportunity they found.
Although Shen Shuangjian's current fans were numerous and varied, most were newly formed looks fans, with neither the ability to counter hate nor the experience to handle it.
Public opinion thus swung entirely to one side. Even several people on the show openly posting explanations without distancing themselves had little effect.
Dawn broke, daylight brightened, and the first rays of the rising sun pierced the clouds, filtering through swaying tree shadows into the little villa's living room and leaving flickering patterns of light and shade.
In the messy living room, dishes left unwashed from last night and clothes casually tossed onto the carpet made for an unappealing mess.
It was still early, yet a figure in a suit and dress shoes was already seated at the sofa in the little villa, his back to the camera. He leaned languidly against the sofa, occasionally lowering his head to glance at the expensive, exquisite watch on his wrist.
At eight fifteen in the morning, the show officially went live. After a night of fierce fighting and revelry, viewers entered the livestream at almost twice the rate of the previous two days.
Passersby and haters there for the spectacle, the original viewers and fans, and the paid trolls others had hired in advance entered the livestream, only to see not the person they had come for, but a stranger leaning back on the sofa.
But as the camera moved cleverly closer, its angle gradually shifted from his side to directly in front of him. Amid the confusion of countless watching eyes, the first thing to come into view was his long, crossed legs.
He sat in the only tidy spot on the messy sofa. His expensive, well-tailored suit bore a few creases, yet fully accentuated his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and tall frame.
His face was almost expressionless, his cold eyes and brows set, giving off an inexplicable air of displeased intimidation.
And to him, the camera's abrupt approach might have been an even more unacceptable intrusion.
Then his lowered, deep-set eyes abruptly lifted. A flash of hostility passed swiftly through his pitch-black eyes, utterly undisguised and sharp.
[???]
[Handsome, who are you?]
[Holy crap, he's fierce. My heart jolted even through the screen.]
[Is he a new guest? The production team didn't announce anything.]
[Are they replacing Shen Shuangjian? Congratulations.]
At the turn of the staircase, footsteps of varying weight sounded as well.
He smoothly withdrew his gaze and turned toward the stairs. Shen Shuangjian, who had just come downstairs and was about to head into the living room, unexpectedly met a pair of eyes filled with gloom and displeasure.
"Shen Shuangjian."
The man's low, cold voice sounded in his ears, laden with pressure.
"Where's the bear?"
Outside the little villa, a loud question rang out almost simultaneously. "Mr. Shen, it's been all night. Can the search-and-rescue team withdraw?"
As though the appointed time had arrived, the clamor and shouting around the villa finally rose without restraint.
What followed was the sound of doors opening one after another on the second floor, and the shuffling footsteps of people emerging. Bobbing heads crowded almost entirely around the upstairs railing and staircase.
And his younger brother, who had supposedly encountered a bear, now stood at the foot of the stairs, in this chaotically messy little house, in front of several unfamiliar men whose gazes were glued to his back.
Shen Sixian finally slowly uncrossed his legs, his gaze fixed on Shen Shuangjian's eyes, which dared not meet his.
He seemed unwilling to indulge Shen Shuangjian's instinctive evasion so easily. Shen Sixian scoffed and demanded again:
"Are they bears?"
The ground-floor bedroom door opened just then, as though in response. Shen Sixian took a single look, and his original displeasure gradually turned into pointed sarcasm.
"Six of them, at that. Dangerous indeed."