Weeks later…
Zhang Yichen sat beneath the bright studio lights, one leg crossed over the other, looking exactly as composed as the public expected him to be.
Beside him sat Su Feiyu. Elegant, beautiful and perfectly poised.
The massive promotional screen behind them displayed the title of their upcoming film.
SAVE THE DAMNED
Adapted from the bestselling novel by acclaimed Author Momo.
The announcement alone had nearly broken the internet.
Save the Damned had been one of the most popular novels of its generation, with millions of readers and an audience notoriously protective of the original work.
Naturally, the moment the adaptation was announced, everyone had opinions.
The casting of Zhang Yichen as the male lead had been overwhelmingly celebrated.
Su Feiyu as the female lead had received equal attention.
And now, with production approaching, the two leads were sitting together for their first major interview.
The interviewer smiled brightly. "Both of you are taking on characters readers already know and love. Was there any pressure when accepting the roles?"
"Of course," Su Feiyu answered smoothly. "When a story means this much to people, you want to respect what they fell in love with while still bringing something of yourself to the character."
The interviewer nodded enthusiastically. "And Yichen?"
Yichen adjusted the microphone in his hand. "The script was good."
The interviewer waited.
Su Feiyu glanced at him.
Yichen seemed to realise more was expected. "I haven't done many adaptations, so each one presents a different challenge. When I accepted the role, I was already prepared for whatever came with it." A faint smile touched his lips. "Seeing the story brought to life is probably as exciting for me as it is for the fans."
The interviewer laughed. "Well said. And from what we've seen, you've given us quite a performance."
Su Feiyu covered a small laugh of her own. Yichen remained perfectly serious.
The interview continued. Questions about filming. Their characters. The original novel. Their preparation and whether fans could expect the adaptation to remain faithful to Author Momo's work.
Su Feiyu handled every question beautifully, giving polished answers with just enough warmth to satisfy the cameras.
Yichen answered exactly what was asked.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
By the time the interview ended, the production team had more than enough footage to work with.
"Thank you both."
Su Feiyu stood. "It was lovely."
Yichen gave the staff a brief nod.
As they stepped away from the set, Su Feiyu fell into step beside him. "You've read the entire script already, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"I thought so." She adjusted her bag. "You seemed interested when they mentioned the final act."
"It's well written. And the role is something I can get into easily." Yichen offered her a polite smile.
Su Feiyu laughed softly. "Coming from you, that might be the highest praise a script can receive. I'll see you at the table read."
"Mm."
They parted ways and less than fifteen minutes later, Yichen was driving home.
The city moved around him in streams of light as evening settled over the roads.
His phone was connected to the car when it began ringing.
Yichen glanced at the display.
Mother.
He answered. "Hello—"
"ZHANG YICHEN!"
Yichen's face immediately went blank. That was not his mother. His thumb moved towards the button to hang up.
"DON'T YOU DARE HANG UP!"
His thumb stopped.
"If you hang up on your father again, I will disown you!"
Yichen considered this and said dryly "You promise?"
"YOU—"
Yichen lowered the volume.
On the other end of the call, his father Zhang Gu appeared to be experiencing several medical emergencies simultaneously.
"You unfilial brat! What kind of son speaks to his father like this? I raised you! I fed you! I clothed you! I gave you everything!"
Yichen kept his eyes on the road. "Mother raised me."
Zhang Gu, "..."
"THAT IS NOT THE POINT!"
"It seems relevant."
"I am your father!"
Yichen sighed, "I'm aware."
"Then show some filial piety!"
"I don't have time to waste on filial piety."
A choking noise came through the speakers.
Yichen continued calmly. "If you need more, make another child with Mother."
"Cough—cough" His father stopped breathing. For several seconds, the only sound was distant coughing.
Then his mother's voice came from somewhere in the background. "What did he say?"
"YOUR SON WANTS TO KILL ME!"
"Our son, Gu."
"NOT TODAY!" Zhang Gu flared.
Yichen's thumb drifted towards the button again.
His father apparently sensed the danger. "Wait... Don't hang up!"
"I'm busy."
"Busy doing what? You never visit! You barely call! Your mother has to send me photographs from the internet so I can see my own son!"
A quiet chuckle escaped Yichen. "You have photographs. Good enough, eh?"
"That is not the same!" His father made another strangled noise.
Yichen wondered if his father's blood pressure had always been this fragile. "Is that all?"
His father sounded deeply offended. "You uncultured bastard."
Yichen said nothing.
"Say something!" Zhang Gu barked.
"I heard you." Yichen's tone remained flat. "Yes. Me, the uncultured bastard. What else?"
"Yichen, how dare you—"
"I'm driving. And if I'm a bastard, what does that make you?"
Zhang Gu almost gave up the ghost "You cold-hearted—"
"I'll talk to you later."
"Wait—"
Beep.
Yichen ended the call.
Peace returned to the car. His phone buzzed again. A message from his mother.
Your father says he is removing you from the family register. Again.
Yichen glanced at it, then another arrived.
Come for dinner when you're free. I miss you.
Something in his expression eased. At the next stop, he replied.
I will.
The phone went dark and Yichen continued driving. Gor a while, his thoughts returned to work.
Save the Damned. The table read. The shooting schedule.
Several scenes he wanted to discuss with the director and then, without permission, his mind shifted elsewhere.
Violet hair.
Yichen's fingers tightened around the steering wheel.
Mo Fei.
Again.
It was becoming irritating.
No.
That wasn't quite right. Irritating implied he wanted it to stop.
Yichen was no longer certain he did.
At first, he had simply noticed Mo Fei because it was impossible not to. The old Mo Fei had been quiet. Always shrinking, then something changed.
Suddenly, Mo Fei was everywhere. Talking. Laughing. Arguing. Provoking him.
Standing too close.
Looking at him without the nervous admiration Yichen had grown accustomed to receiving from people.
Mo Fei challenged him. Annoyed him. Made him laugh when he didn't want to.
Occupied space without apologising for it. And somewhere along the way, noticing him had become watching him.
Watching had become searching for him.
In rooms. Across tables. Through crowds. Without thinking, Yichen would register where Mo Fei was.
Who he was speaking to. Whether he was laughing.
Whether he had eaten. Whether he looked tired. Whether someone was standing too close.
Whether Mo Fei was looking at him.
Especially whether Mo Fei was looking at him.
Yichen's jaw tightened.
He had spent weeks refusing to give it a name. Attraction sounded too simple. A crush sounded ridiculous. Like was nowhere near enough.
What he felt was uglier than that.
Hungrier.
The night of the HET Gala had made that impossible to deny.
Mo Fei trembling beneath his hands. Tears on his face.
Unable to breathe.
Yichen had kissed him because he had panicked. That was what he told himself.
It had been instinct, a desperate attempt to pull Mo Fei out of whatever place his mind had dragged him into.
And perhaps the first second had been exactly that.
The problem was everything after.
Because Yichen remembered it too clearly.
Mo Fei going still, the warmth of his face between Yichen's hands, moments stretching longer than it needed to.
Having to make himself stop.
That was the part Yichen never examined for too long. Because every time he did, something dark and possessive curled quietly inside him.
He wanted Mo Fei.
Not in the harmless way people wanted beautiful things. Yichen had spent his entire life surrounded by beautiful people. Beauty had never impressed him enough to matter.
This was different.
He wanted Mo Fei's attention. His laughter, his ridiculous arguments. That shameless grin turned towards him.
He wanted to be the person Mo Fei ran to when something went wrong. The person he annoyed first. The person he trusted enough to fall apart in front of.
And beneath all of that sat something Yichen liked considerably less.
The desire to keep him.
The thought should have disturbed him.
Instead, his grip tightened around the steering wheel.
Earlier this evening, while waiting for the interview to begin, he had opened Instagram.
Chen Yu's photograph had appeared.
Mo Fei behind the wheel. Violet hair. One hand on the steering wheel.
That insufferably pleased expression on his face. Yichen had stared longer than necessary. Then he had opened the comments.
Everyone teasing him, talking to him.
Mo Fei answering and laughing with them.
Yichen had read every single exchange, his thumb had moved across his own comment.
One purple heart. That was all he had dropped.
He had known people would notice, fans and the media would gobble it up and he had posted it anyway.
Yichen stopped at a red light. His phone rested beside him.
He picked it up and opened Instagram.
The notifications were still ridiculous. He ignored them.
Instead, he opened Mo Fei's profile.
There he was. His gaze drifted to the follower count.
MoFeiOfficial — 23 million followers.
Yichen paused.
So he really meant it when he said he wanted to grow.
His thumb stopped over one photograph. "You really are troublesome."
The light changed. Yichen locked the phone, placed it down and drove on. His expression remained calm and unbothered.
Exactly the Zhang Yichen everyone knew. But beneath that carefully controlled exterior sat a truth he had been avoiding for far too long.
Zhang Yichen did not merely like Mo Fei.
He wanted him.
With an intensity that bordered on obsession and perhaps the most dangerous part wasn't that Yichen had finally realised it.
It was that he had no intention of making it disappear.