The makeup for the costume photo shoot was stunning.

Li Baixi meticulously worked on Cheng Ping’s makeup, accentuating his sword-like brows with a natural, flowing finish and deepening the folds of his double eyelids, giving a slight lift at the outer corners. The highlight was the lips, which Li Baixi blended patiently like an oil painter, masking the edges and adding depth to the inner part. Unlike a simple and crude bitten lip look, the final result was entirely matte, retaining vertical lines, making the lips look naturally thin and sharp.

At that moment, a solitary swordsman was born.

The manager couldn’t stop praising the work, “If the makeup in the drama looks this good, we should really light some incense in thanks.”

“No problem,” Li Baixi immediately said, “I’ll talk to the drama’s makeup artists later and give them some tips.”

Feeling this collaboration was going perfectly, Li Baixi decided it was time to make his request.

Seizing the moment when Cheng Ping’s manager stepped out, Li Baixi quickly reached into his bag and pulled out a hat, “Um, could you…”

Cheng Ping, misunderstanding again, said, “A photo together?”

Li Baixi: “…Not exactly.”

Cheng Ping asked, “Your personal WeChat?”

Li Baixi: …Can’t you let me finish?

Swallowing his denial out of embarrassment, Li Baixi forced a smile, “Sure, is that okay?”

They exchanged new WeChat contacts.

Reflecting on it, Li Baixi thought a personal WeChat wasn’t bad—it meant he could check Cheng Ping’s moments occasionally.

However, he soon realized that Cheng Ping’s personal account wasn’t much different from his work account, filled mostly with work-related posts, with the occasional dinner photo or rare selfie.

Cheng Ping’s selfies always showed him with a bare face and an unapproachable expression—the look Li Baixi knew so well.

Meanwhile, Cheng Ping saw Li Baixi’s extravagant, decadent WeChat moments filled with opulent events, parties, and scenic locations. Li Baixi always appeared in glamorous outfits, posing with various male and female stars, often with a playful pout.

Two thoughts flashed through Cheng Ping’s mind:

At least he didn’t take a photo with me.

But why didn’t he want a photo with me?

Li Baixi was busy and rarely had time to check Cheng Ping’s plastic WeChat moments.

Until one late night, before bed, he scrolled and suddenly saw a new post from Cheng Ping.

Just two words: “Hang in there.”

Li Baixi thought it was cute, like a student encouraging himself before an exam.

He wanted to reply with “Get some rest,” but the post was quickly deleted.

Li Baixi sensed something amiss, a hint of gloominess.

He opened the chat window, fingers hovering over the keyboard for a few seconds, but ultimately didn’t type anything. They weren’t close enough for such inquiries, and asking might just annoy Cheng Ping.

Fortunately, they soon had another collaboration.

This time it was for a gala. The team had set a specific look for Cheng Ping: a refined yet villainous appearance.

The gala makeup would take about two hours, with an additional two and a half hours reserved for photos, so Li Baixi headed to Cheng Ping’s hotel right after lunch.

Ma Koukou was on the verge of madness.

He watched Cheng Ping, in a bathrobe, sitting in the room while Li Baixi stood behind him, pinning up his hair to apply moisturizing care. As Li Baixi’s fingers moved from Cheng Ping’s chin downward, Cheng Ping’s skin, unaccustomed to such treatment, turned red inch by inch up to his neck.

What should have been a routine work process suddenly seemed inappropriate due to the skin’s reaction, making one feel like they shouldn’t be watching.

Li Baixi completed the look, giving Cheng Ping a gold-rimmed glasses and slicked-back hairstyle. The dark eyeshadow along the base of his eyelashes made his gaze deeper behind the glasses. When he put on a tailored suit and stood expressionlessly, he epitomized the refined villain, a true wolf in sheep’s clothing.

Ma Koukou felt like he had witnessed two hours of unspeakable content, even though he hadn’t seen anything inappropriate. His heart was in turmoil with joy.

He eagerly awaited Li Baixi’s instructions—Cheng Ping was about to head out for the photoshoot, and assistants usually handled makeup touch-ups during such sessions.

Li Baixi smiled at Ma Koukou.

“Xiao Yang, you will handle Mr. Cheng’s touch-ups.”

Then he turned to Ma Koukou, “You, come touch up my makeup.”

Cheng Ping, not noticing Ma Koukou’s devastated look, curiously asked, “Are you going to the gala too?”

Li Baixi nodded with a smile, “I’m a guest too.”

Cheng Ping’s manager, seeing an opportunity, offered, “Great, come with us in our car.”

At the gala venue, the photographers went wild.

Cheng Ping, with gold-rimmed glasses and an aloof demeanor, stepped out of the car, followed by Li Baixi, dressed in black like a femme fatale.

Flashbulbs popped incessantly. Li Baixi waved, showing off his black gloves.

Cheng Ping, less accustomed to the attention, stood rigidly, noticing a figure approaching out of the corner of his eye. He turned and was startled—it was a famous movie star he had watched even as a die-hard gamer.

The star, however, didn’t recognize Cheng Ping and went straight to Li Baixi, patting him on the waist, “I thought you weren’t coming tonight because you didn’t take my commission.”

Li Baixi smiled diplomatically, skillfully deflecting the conversation.

Cheng Ping listened but noticed something odd.

After a few words with the star, Li Baixi turned to leave with Ma Koukou, “We’ll go take some photos.”

Cheng Ping, unable to keep things bottled up, asked bluntly, “Why didn’t you take the movie star’s commission but took mine?”

In terms of status and pay, it didn’t make sense.

Li Baixi felt a bit awkward.

He didn’t want to tell Cheng Ping that he avoided the star because he was a notorious creep.

So he threw a playful, insincere wink, “Because you’re handsome.”

The tone was so fake that anyone could tell he wasn’t serious. The subtext was simply, “I don’t want to explain.”

Unfortunately, Ma Koukou, ever the dutiful apprentice, seized the moment.

“Really, Mr. Cheng, my master started preparing five days in advance when he knew he’d be doing your gala makeup. He swore he’d make you the brightest star at the event…”

Li Baixi wished he could cover Ma Koukou’s mouth.

He glared at Ma Koukou, trying to convey “stop making things up” with his eyes, but to Cheng Ping, it looked more like “stop revealing my little secrets.”

At that moment, Cheng Ping was stunned.