Chapter 353: The Thirty-second Day in the Entertainment World

Chapter 353: The Thirty-Second Day of Entering the Entertainment World

Yu Ziyun's arm around An Yi's waist tightened slightly, drawing him more firmly into his orbit.

He buried his face deeper, nearly pressing into An Yi's side.

Feeling the pressure at his waist, An Yi lightly patted Yu Ziyun's firm forearm twice. "Easy there."

Yu Ziyun immediately loosened his grip but didn't let go.

He lifted his head and rubbed his cheek against An Yi's chest, the gesture intimate.

His gaze swept across the living room, and seeing no luggage, he spoke up: "Need help packing?"

He'd rushed over here for exactly this reason—he wanted to do something, anything, to confirm that this brand-new, dreamlike relationship was real, to be part of An Yi's life.

An Yi curved his lips, his eyes returning to the sheet music in his hands, his tone casual: "No need, already done."

One wave of the hand and it was done.

Yu Ziyun gave a disappointed "Oh," but quickly perked up again. He raised his head, gazing at An Yi's exquisitely defined jawline right in front of him, and couldn't help praising him, his voice laced with open affection and indulgence: "That was fast! Awesome!"

An Yi chuckled, finally pulling his gaze away from the sheet music and looking down at Yu Ziyun hanging onto him. Those clear eyes reflected An Yi's smiling face: "What's with that tone? You treating me like a kid?"

Yu Ziyun smiled too, tilting his face up to look at An Yi, his gaze intense and burning. He corrected: "Not a kid."

He paused, then said slowly, deliberately: "I'm treating you as my boyfriend."

If he were a child... well, An Yi was an adult. He had no such qualms.

An Yi looked at his earnest eyes—the emotions churning within them, nearly spilling over, were so vivid and intense.

He reached out, lightly tapping Yu Ziyun's cheek twice with his fingertips, the gesture a mix of reassurance and teasing: "Fine."

But Yu Ziyun caught the hand that had tapped his face. His hand was large, his palm warm and dry, completely wrapping around An Yi's cool, slender fingers.

He lowered his head and pressed two tender kisses to the smooth back of An Yi's hand.

The soft touch of his lips against the skin sent a tender shiver through An Yi.

Then he looked up at An Yi, his gaze deep, burning with open desire, his voice slightly hoarse from holding back: "Can I kiss you?"

An Yi couldn't help but find him funny. He turned his hand over and covered Yu Ziyun's mouth with the same hand that had just been kissed, his fingertips brushing against Yu Ziyun's warm lips.

"You already kissed me," An Yi said, a hint of teasing in his tone. "Same as always—act first, ask later."

Yu Ziyun's lips moved beneath An Yi's palm, his protest muffled, warm breath spilling over An Yi's hand: "Not there."

An Yi looked down at him, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

Yu Ziyun couldn't hold back any longer.

He pulled An Yi's hand away from his mouth, holding it in his palm, while his other hand gently cupped the back of An Yi's neck, gently guiding him down.

Then he raised his head and leaned in.

An Yi didn't resist. He closed his eyes, his long lashes trembling, feeling the other's breath and warmth on his lips.

The sunlight continued to fall warmly over their entwined figures as they kissed. The sheet music slipped from An Yi's slackened hand and drifted silently onto the soft carpet.

----------

Time slipped by quietly.

The buzz from *Love Relativity* gradually died down, transforming into different fuel for each guest's career and life.

Ruan Bingxuan successfully joined the production team she had landed through her own popularity.

She occasionally sent messages to An Yi, sharing little updates from the set.

According to her, filming was going smoothly, the director and co-stars were easy to work with, and her acting had earned recognition—even more smoothly than she'd expected.

An Yi read Ruan Bingxuan's messages, which were full of satisfaction and drive. In the original novel, her entry into this production had been thanks to Cang Xingjin's recommendation, and she had consequently faced hostility and criticism from some of his fanatical fans.

Now, without that help, she still stood strong on the foundation of the attention she'd gained from the show and her own hard work.

An Yi thought quietly—perhaps the so-called "male lead's help" had always been a plot device, forced by the narrative. Once that was stripped away, those destined to bloom would still find their own soil.

Comments section:

"Off the dating show and killing it in her career—so satisfying!"

"Yes! Men, stay out of her way!"

"Everyone! I love the current plot—the suffocation from the dating show is completely gone! She's the real female lead!"

"..."

Listening to the comments, An Yi smiled and replied with well-wishes and encouragement.

Meanwhile, his first solo mini-album entered its final preparation stage.

The few pieces he had handed to Deng Yingrui were extremely distinctive in style, carrying a strange texture—vast, desolate, yet with a faint, tenacious vitality breaking through the despair.

The inspiration came from the apocalyptic world he had personally experienced—collapsed civilizations, rusted steel, flora and fauna stubbornly mutating and growing in the dust, and the survivors' hoarse chants mixing prayer and curse.

He had deconstructed and rewoven those images and sounds from memory using this world's musical language, forming a style entirely his own.

When the demos were played in a small internal listening session at the company, every music director and producer who heard them was stunned.

This was completely unlike the An Yi they remembered—the one singing catchy pop songs and performing simple dance moves in a floundering group!

Whether it was the complexity of the melodies, the depth of the lyrics' imagery, or the narrative quality and emotional control An Yi displayed in his singing—a weathered, world-weary sensibility utterly at odds with his age and appearance—it left everyone dumbfounded.

"This... this really came from An Yi? He wrote and sang this?" Someone couldn't believe it.

"Too unique. High risk, but... it will absolutely blow up."

"When did he develop talent like this? He was completely wasted in the group!"

"Looks like going solo was his true beginning."

The company buzzed with discussion. Most felt surprise and anticipation—a potential musician with a radically different style was rising.

And they could ride that wave too!

However, Lu Wenshi and Deng Yingrui, who were in the know, felt not a ripple of surprise when they heard those demos and saw the production plans. In fact, they almost wanted to laugh.

Lu Wenshi sat in his office, listening through his earphones as An Yi's ethereal, sandpaper-textured voice sang of ruins and starlight. The corner of his mouth twitched.

A devil who could write and sing songs? And do it brilliantly? What was there to be surprised about!

Compared to his mind-manipulating, reality-twisting tricks, this was practically a normal—even kind of "meh"—little party trick!

He even started to wonder: Was An Yi's whole timid, unremarkable act back in the group just for show?

Just like in those old fables where a demon takes human form to test mortals, they'd been a bunch of blind idiots who failed the test, and now they were paying the price... shit!

The more he thought about it, the more it added up! A wave of dread washed over Lu Wenshi. He quickly gulped some ice water to steady himself and vowed to work even harder from now on—busting his ass, serving like a loyal dog.

He never wanted to go through that again—it was literally hell!

He'd even secretly sought out monks and Taoist priests behind An Yi's back, but it was totally useless!

They just didn't have the chops!