Li Baixi’s phone received a message: “Senior Brother, protecting your disciple?”

Li Baixi played dumb: “What are you talking about without context?”

Junior Brother: “You’ve fallen to the point of playing PR battles. That’s even lower than I thought. I was just stating my long-held opinion. If you disagree, come and compete openly. Do you dare?”

The suggestion to compete was an outright insult, especially with the added “do you dare,” implying that Li Baixi was afraid of competing and thus wouldn’t lower himself to participate.

Li Baixi seemed stunned, remaining silent for a while.

Seeing that Li Baixi was speechless, the junior brother smirked and closed the chat.

But the next second, he received a Weibo notification.

Li Baixi publicly tagged him: “Makeup itself has no soul; the soul belongs to the model. The beauty of makeup shouldn’t be analyzed by the makeup artist but should blossom on the model’s face for the audience to savor. It’s been many years; how about a competition between us, senior and junior? Just the makeup, no explanations. Let the viewers decide who’s better.”

Oh! The onlookers were in an uproar again.

Someone asked, “What’s this got to do with you?”

Someone else explained, “Ma Koukou has been following Li Baixi all these years. Li Baixi is her boss and teacher, so he’s stepping in to protect her!”

“Today’s Queen Li has a different vibe. I’m actually feeling a bit excited.”

“Fight! Fight!”

Everyone frantically tagged the junior brother.

The junior brother, who had just taunted Li Baixi, seemed stunned by this turn of events and went silent.

Meanwhile, Li Baixi received a message from a long-term brand partner: “Mr. Li, may I ask, which brand is sponsoring this event?”

Li Baixi: “What sponsorship? Nothing’s set in stone yet; my junior brother hasn’t even accepted the challenge.”

Brand PR: “You’re kidding, right? Shouldn’t this have been planned long ago, with the challenge being just a formality?”

Li Baixi: “That would be too boring.”

Brand PR was skeptical: “As expected of Mr. Li. If there’s no sponsor yet, would you consider us? We can contact a live streaming platform, plan the event, and sponsor both sides’ makeup products. Viewers can vote online, with the votes converted into donations for charity. We’ll just gain some publicity.”

Li Baixi: “Sounds good, if my junior brother accepts.”

Brand PR: “…”

After a long time, the junior brother finally responded on Weibo: “If Senior Brother wants a competition, I’ll accompany you. But to be fair, I suggest a live format, with a third party deciding the theme on the spot. How about improvisation?”

The intent behind this suggestion was clear to both parties. Improvisation was Li Baixi’s weakness and his biggest psychological shadow.

The junior brother thought he had turned the tables, expecting Li Baixi to be stuck.

But Li Baixi seemed to have anticipated this, responding quickly: “Let’s do it. We’ll discuss the details later. Everyone can look forward to it.”

Junior Brother: “?”

Li Baixi messaged the brand PR: “He replied. We can start planning. I’ll have my assistant contact you.”

Brand PR: “You guys are too real!”

Five minutes later, Cheng Ping, just back from work, messaged: “What are you doing???”

Li Baixi: “As you can see, I’m challenging him. I thought you’d like this solution.”

Cheng Ping: “…I thought you preferred the PR approach! That’s why I asked my agent for help!”

Li Baixi laughed: “PR did help a lot. But you know what, I just discovered that direct confrontation is quite satisfying.”

Cheng Ping was swayed: “Yeah, it is quite satisfying.”

Then he realized and sent another message: “But wait, are you confident? What if you lose?”

He knew about Li Baixi’s past defeat to his junior brother and had seen their confrontations, always feeling that Li Baixi wasn’t yet “ten steps ahead.”

Li Baixi: “It’s true that in a competition, there’s no 100% certainty. But compared to before, I’m much more confident now. Do you know why?”

Cheng Ping knew it was a trap but still walked into it: “Why?”

Li Baixi: “Because now I have you.”

Cheng Ping: “.”

Though the numerical issue hadn’t been resolved, Li Baixi never missed an opportunity to tease, reminding Cheng Ping: I’m still waiting.

Cheng Ping, unable to fight back, took a while to reply: “Can I be your model? You can do my makeup.”

Li Baixi: “Junior Brother won’t agree. You’re a celebrity, which would be unfair. But you can help me practice.”

“Sure, how do you want to practice? I’ll help.”

“Really, any way is fine? Are you sure?”

Cheng Ping: “…”

The next day in the makeup room, Ma Koukou fluttered in, moved to tears: “Master, are you really going to go that far for me?”

Ma Koukou had quickly adjusted her mood, settled into being an assistant, and even started flirting in the crew.

This morning, she brought a cup of coffee to Albert’s makeup mirror, chatting awkwardly with the male god. The crew watched her in disbelief.

Albert forced a smile, responding sparsely, and his personal space bubble thickened from three meters to thirty, not touching the coffee at all.

Ma Koukou was oblivious, laughing like silver bells.

Li Baixi watched and said, “Ma Koukou, be honest. Have you accepted your fate and stopped thinking about revenge?”

Ma Koukou pretended to wipe tears: “No, Master. It’s just that my life isn’t worth you risking yours. The world is so treacherous. What if the competition is rigged? What about your precious reputation?”

Li Baixi flicked her forehead with a delicate finger: “You’re so filial.”

Ma Koukou, shyly: “I’m the world’s number one filial daughter.”

Li Baixi flicked her again: “If you’re really filial, think about that task I gave you.”

Ma Koukou remembered his dilemma about being the top and her eyes twinkled: “Speaking of which, isn’t the crew preparing an oil painting?”

Li Baixi was stunned.

The oil painting was supposed to be a prop prepared before filming.

In the movie, when the painter first painted Hong’s portrait, he used a red blanket embroidered with golden flowers as the background, making him lie on it naked. The subject’s body was almost left blank, becoming even paler against the vivid background, like a passerby in an ukiyo-e without emotions or history.

They fell in love because of this painting, and it eventually led to their separation.

The director wanted to achieve the ultimate artistic feel in the film, inviting a famous painter to create the prop oil painting. However, the painter, who had a big name and an even bigger ego, didn’t take the job seriously and only announced he would start now.

The director, needing the painting for promotional purposes, reluctantly agreed. But the painter then requested that Cheng Ping pose naked in his studio, as he never painted from photos.

When the assistant producer relayed this request, Cheng Ping’s face changed slightly, clearly uncomfortable. He mentally repeated “professionalism” several times before reluctantly asking, “How long will it take?”

Assistant: “…He said it would take a week.”

The crew was in an uproar.

Cheng Ping: “…”

Li Baixi staggered a bit, stepping forward.

Li Baixi knew what Ma Koukou meant but hesitated at the critical moment.

Steadying himself, he finally spoke: “Actually, if you don’t mind, I can try painting it.”

The director had seen Li Baixi’s work and had initially invited him to join the crew because he was impressed by his paintings.

Feeling resentful toward the painter, the director, hoping for an alternative, asked Li Baixi, “How long do you need?”

Li Baixi: “If all goes well, three days.”

The director clapped his hands: “Great. And you don’t need a live model, right?”

Li Baixi was about to answer when Ma Koukou poked him again.

Li Baixi’s words changed mid-sentence: “It would be better to have a live model for the initial sketch.”

The director frowned: “Why?”

Li Baixi: “.”

Director: “?”

Li Baixi quickly said, “Photos lack soul.”

The junior brother sneezed from far away.

Director: “?”

Hesitant, the director looked at Cheng Ping: “I don’t want to make our actor uncomfortable…”

“I’m fine,” Cheng Ping said firmly.

Li Baixi glanced at him.

Does he really know what he’s getting into?

That day, filming ended early. Li Baixi solemnly said, “Thank you, Cheng. Let’s work overtime.”

Cheng Ping, equally serious: “Alright.”

The two solemnly left the set and walked into Li Baixi’s hotel room.

The assistants had thoughtfully set up the entire scene, perfectly recreating a corner of the studio. The red and gold blanket hung half on the wall, half draped over the bed, avoiding making Cheng Ping lie on the floor. Even two candlesticks were set up as the light source.

Cheng Ping stood there, looking at the golden-red bed.

The situation had progressed to a point where anyone could predict the next steps. Li Baixi cleared his throat, about to say something when Cheng Ping asked, “Should I lie down?”

Li Baixi: “…Yes, go ahead.”

So Cheng Ping slowly removed his clothes, put on a long wig, and awkwardly lay on the soft blanket: “Like this?”

His body now perfectly matched Hong’s image, pale and vulnerable. Trying to escape

 this feeling, he spoke in a strange tone, sounding fierce.

He didn’t want Li Baixi to notice his inappropriate reaction just from his gaze.

Li Baixi realized why he had hesitated earlier.

This scene was too real, to an ominous extent.

But he had prepared for this moment for so long; he couldn’t back out now. If he retreated, what would Cheng Ping think?

Li Baixi: “Turn a bit more… Bend your left leg… Raise your head… Yes, stay like that.”

He hastily took a photo: “Okay.”

Cheng Ping, wondering how long he’d have to hold the awkward pose, was surprised: “What do you mean okay?”

Li Baixi: “You can move.”

Cheng Ping: “Didn’t you say you needed a live model for the soul?”

Li Baixi: “We can find the soul in other ways.”

Cheng Ping didn’t expect things to escalate so quickly.

He lay there, feeling Li Baixi approach, fingers brushing his lips.

Li Baixi softly asked, “Have you thought about resolving our previous issue?”

Avoidance wasn’t Cheng Ping’s style. His gaze shifted, but he steeled himself: “It’s not really an issue… I just thought you couldn’t be the top, so I figured I would…”

His words were cut off by Li Baixi’s lips.

The kiss was deep and purposeful, with Li Baixi’s touch awakening him.

Cheng Ping gasped, looking at Li Baixi. His eyes were deep pools, tempting like those that had lured others for centuries.

As they intertwined, Li Baixi moved Cheng Ping’s wig.

Cheng Ping, following his gaze, had a thought: “We look like the painter and Hong.”

He didn’t realize he had spoken aloud.

His unintentional words hit home, shocking Li Baixi: “Don’t say that. You’re not like Hong.”

But were they different? If Cheng Ping changed one day, losing his inspiration, would he still love him?

Li Baixi dared not ask himself.

He hadn’t forgotten Su Jian’s question.

Reading the script had made it clear: his desire for Cheng Ping wasn’t pure love. It was mixed with self-projection and compensation, both contradictory and self-serving.

The painter knew that loving Hong brought him closest to that noble illusion, but it was always just an illusion. When the bond broke, he would return to his true self.

Sensing Li Baixi’s hesitation, Cheng Ping moved closer, whispering sweetly: “It’s different; you’re much better than the painter.”

Li Baixi’s tongue felt bitter: “No, I’m a fraud.”

Cheng Ping looked at him almost naively: “I like you in men’s clothes too.”

Li Baixi smiled bitterly: “That’s not the point.”

Cheng Ping repeated: “I like you in men’s clothes too.”

Suddenly, Li Baixi understood.

Cheng Ping knew everything, seeing through his facade. Yet, he was still content, willingly misplacing his affections.

In that moment, Li Baixi felt both shame and desire.

This flower was meant for him, destined to wither in his hands, beautifully and tragically.

Their first time together felt perfectly aligned.

At the climax, Cheng Ping made a sound akin to crying. Li Baixi turned him over, gently kissing away the tears he had caused, like a false saint.