—Tsk tsk, Jiexi must be thrilled now; what wild route, he is quite legitimate as Mr. Meng’s nephew! Mr. Meng is now the oldest elder in the xiangsheng world.
Unfortunately, Qi Shejiang seemed not to be in the mood to chat with them and soon vanished from sight. Qi Shejiang could hardly hear the outside noise as he entered the deserted makeup room in a daze.
“Qi Shejiang?” The next moment, Zhang Yue pushed the door open and came in, closing the door behind him.
He noticed something was off with Qi Shejiang and followed him closely, but Qi Shejiang seemed completely unaware of his presence behind him.
In this small space, he even saw a familiar sadness on Qi Shejiang. This sorrow was strikingly similar to what he had shown while singing “Obsessive Dream.”
Zhang Yue’s expression changed slightly. Once again, it was like this; he had clearly recognized his master uncle. Although there were regrettable old matters, it could still be considered a joyous occasion, resolving the elder’s years-long heart knot and discovering his own background. To say it more superficially, those who used to cling to his humble origins would have to shut up and call him ‘grandfather’ now. Yet, he hardly looked like someone who was happy. “… You seem to have your own world, always hiding your sorrow that you can’t express.” This sentence was like a small knife, cutting open the suppressed pain of Qi Shejiang. After enduring for so long, Qi Shejiang faced Zhang Yue’s words and could no longer hold back, nor was there any need to. He had deceived others, but Zhang Yue had heard his inner heart through the melody of his strings long ago. He sat on the ground as if drained of strength, propping his elbows on his knees, touching his forehead, first laughing until his eyes brimmed with tears, then uncontrollably crying, like a two or three-year-old child, as if he wanted to cry out all his grievances.
Truly, it was a mix of sorrow and joy. He did not know whether this was heaven’s mercy or cruelty, as it allowed for a reunion with an old friend, yet made them brush past each other for eighty years; even though they were reunited, there was so much entanglement that they couldn’t acknowledge each other! Upon reuniting, he learned that his junior brother was still alive, but he was old and frail. He had to take care of his junior brother’s health, yet also wished to leave no regrets. At first, he did not feel it, but gradually, life showed him the traces of time, making his heart heavy with sorrow. Until this moment, Qi Shejiang finally broke down under such impact and cried out loud. Indeed, he had developed a growing familiarity and affection for Xia Yiwei, Qi Guangling, and the friends and family here, as he gradually found the memories of this world. But if he had always belonged here, integrated with this body, then why would he need to walk through a century past? Was it just to make him unaware of where his dream lay before him? Zhang Yue felt extremely uncomfortable, squatting down to embrace Qi Shejiang, pushing his hands away, and kissing away the tears on his face. This was completely an impulsive action; Qi Shejiang’s crying pained his heart, but he did not know what else to do.
In a rush of blood, he kissed him. The way he cradled Qi Shejiang’s face was gentle, as if holding fragile porcelain, and kissing him even carried a sense of seriousness. Qi Shejiang did not resist, merely allowing him to kiss his cheek. Qi Shejiang did not close his eyes either; being so close, Zhang Yue could see the slightly sunken eye sockets, the red-rimmed eyes, and the long eyelashes dampened by tears, trembling slightly, as if unable to bear any more sorrow. He looked fixedly at Zhang Yue, choking out, “I feel so bad.” Unaware of where his dream lay before him, not knowing where he was in the dream…
Chapter Thirty-Two Zhang Yue wanted to say something to comfort him, but found himself at a loss for words. He neither knew why Qi Shejiang felt bad nor could he discern that the reason was unspeakable. He could only hold Qi Shejiang a little tighter, and then tighter still, a lump forming heavily in his throat. Qi Shejiang felt his strength, trembling slightly, and closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and hugging back with all his might.
After a long while, Qi Shejiang pulled out of his embrace, silently opened a packet of tissues, and wiped his face. His nose tip was red, and with his current mood, he wasn’t sure if he could still perform well in front of the camera later. After wiping his face, Qi Shejiang finally looked up at Zhang Yue; the two of them stared at each other for a while, suddenly at a loss for words.
Zhang Yue’s ears slowly turned red, his gaze also a bit erratic. This… what the hell does this mean? He was still in a daze when Qi Shejiang suddenly yanked the door open. As luck would have it, Tang Shuangqin happened to walk by outside. He immediately spotted the two looking rather disheveled due to their earlier positions, frowned, and pondered, “Hmm…” “Director Tang,” Qi Shejiang greeted, “My voice is hoarse. Can you push my scenes back a bit? I need to have some loquat syrup first.”
“Alright, you don’t need to film your scenes today, you’re tired too.” Speaking of tiredness, Tang Shuangqin glanced at the two of them a few more times. However, Tang Shuangqin was not the type to care about such gossip. As long as Qi Shejiang wasn’t so exhausted that he couldn’t stand, it was fine with him. So, Tang Shuangqin continued to walk ahead. Only a few steps later, he heard Zhang Yue ask from behind, “What did you mean just now??” Tang Shuangqin clicked his tongue silently.
“What do you mean?” Qi Shejiang whispered. It wasn’t that he was afraid of being overheard, but rather that he hadn’t controlled his emotions earlier and actually ended up with a hoarse voice from crying.
Zhang Yue looked around, and seeing that Tang Shuangqin had gone far and there was no one else around, he gained some courage. He pressed Qi Shejiang again and leaned down to kiss him. This time, Qi Shejiang stepped aside slightly, but Zhang Yue still ended up kissing the corner of his mouth. Zhang Yue froze in place, unsure whether to continue or to back away. Qi Shejiang couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, taking two steps to the side. His smile held a subtle complexity of emotions, a mix of helplessness and indulgence. He took a few steps back and said to Zhang Yue, “I’m not in the mood today, let’s talk later.” Stopping for a moment, he turned around and continued walking, his smile slowly fading away. By this point, he still retained a measure of composure, knowing he shouldn’t casually make commitments when emotions were running high. Yet for Zhang Yue, this was undoubtedly a kind of acknowledgment. He stood there for a while before turning around and silently howling a couple of times.
However, later there was an update, claiming that Old Master Meng had visited the production team for guidance, greatly appreciating Qi Shejiang and officially accepting him as a disciple. It was accompanied by blurry photos taken in the crowd of Qi Shejiang supporting Old Master Meng.
Now, netizens were mocking the poster of this rumor.
The crowd laughed it off, considering it a ridiculous rumor, just like any other whimsical gossip.
But that day, with so many people, it didn’t take long before formal media reports came: “According to insiders, Qi Shejiang met Old Master Meng on the set of ‘Yuan Yang Kou’ and immediately exchanged secret signals, recognizing that Qi Shejiang was Old Master Meng’s disciple. Subsequently, Meng Jingyuan publicly referred to Qi Shejiang as his senior uncle!”
Now the onlookers were about to explode.
This news had some discrepancies with the online rumors, but the core idea was the same: Qi Shejiang had become a member of the Meng family!
