Concealed and Blended (Fendai): Chapter 48
Li Baixi: “…”
Cheng Ping: “…”
For a moment, Li Baixi forgot to move as he turned, and Cheng Ping stood still as if in a mirror image.
Albert looked left and right, realizing he should probably explain, “When you invited me for a drink, I thought it might be a good idea for you two to meet…”
He suddenly realized, “Wait, you said a friend was coming, and you didn’t mean Cheng Ping? Who then?”
At that moment, Ma Koukou, sporting her innocent doe-eyed makeup, barged in.
Li Baixi: “…”
Cheng Ping: “…”
Albert: “…”
Ma Koukou: “…”
Three years later, the four of them met again, eyes locking in a silent standoff.
A cold wind blew through the bar.
Albert had planned to excuse himself as soon as Cheng Ping arrived, leaving them a private space. But the unexpected twist left him speechless, staring at Ma Koukou.
Ma Koukou, fearing Albert might leave, quickly fumbled in his half-baked English, “Wait!” She pulled out his phone, “I was afraid I’d forget, so I wrote it down. Give me five minutes to read it.”
She cleared his throat and began the first line, “Dear Albert…”
Li Baixi: “…”
Li Baixi whispered to Cheng Ping, “Let’s go outside.”
The bar was indeed secluded, with most of the street outside dimly lit. The sound of dripping water from a nearby pipe echoed, adding to the unsettling atmosphere.
Although Cheng Ping had come to meet Li Baixi, he now remained silent. After a while, Li Baixi broke the silence, “I went to see your film’s roadshow a few days ago. They showed some clips; it looked really good.”
The words tasted bitter in his mouth, as if he were merely going through the motions.
Cheng Ping responded awkwardly, “Thank you. Actually, I went to see your exhibition today too. I’m too vulgar, I just thought it was beautiful.”
Li Baixi was taken aback, “When did you come? I didn’t see you.”
Cheng Ping: “I was in disguise, afraid of running into fans… You seemed busy talking to people, so I didn’t disturb you.”
The bitterness deepened. Li Baixi’s throat, long free of cigarettes, suddenly itched. He reached for his pocket, then pulled his hand back empty.
Cheng Ping, hands in his pockets, looked at the night sky, “I never got a chance to ask, after you left the set three years ago, where did you go?”
Li Baixi thought for a moment, “I went to my father’s exhibition.”
The news of his quitting had spread widely, and perhaps a friend had informed his father. As he entered the airport, aimlessly checking flights, his father called, “I’m hosting an exhibition in New York. Want to come?”
Li Baixi, realizing it had been a long time since they’d met, decided to fly over.
His father’s work was the same as ever, incomprehensible color blocks with grandiose titles.
His father said, “I supported you becoming a makeup artist to give you time to find your artistic vision. You’ve been searching for so long, it should be enough by now. Since you’ve left the industry, why not come back to painting?”
Li Baixi didn’t respond.
His father continued, “You’re too fixated on what’s real and what’s not. Seeing everything as fake, you can’t find anything real.”
Li Baixi thought this piece of wisdom sounded profound, but then his father changed the subject, “Do you know what I’ve been selling all these years?”
Li Baixi: “What?”
His father: “Stories. Your unrequited love story is quite good. I think it could be your breakthrough.”
Li Baixi: “…”
Li Baixi: “I realized then I couldn’t follow him, or I’d be ruined. With nothing else to do, I started traveling, looking for things to paint. I wandered further, climbed mountains, heard the pine winds at the summit, saw the Milky Way in the desert… My thoughts changed. Looking back, what I once thought was the whole world was just a small corner.”
Cheng Ping responded calmly, “Is that so.”
Li Baixi looked at him, swallowing words that wouldn’t come out.
Like: I painted many pictures of you.
He had painted many pictures of Cheng Ping but never displayed them. One day, in a remote village, a little girl he had convinced to be a model saw the paintings and asked, “Who is this?”
He said, “A friend.”
Maybe it was the way he said it, or perhaps the style of the paintings, but the girl cautiously said, “My condolences.”
Li Baixi had laughed.
After that, he stopped painting Cheng Ping. Cheng Ping was alive and well, just no longer his. His memorial brushstrokes revealed his own unworthy state of mind.
“And you?” Li Baixi asked, “Have you been well these years?”
Cheng Ping: “Not bad, I’ve been acting continuously, I think I’ve made some progress.”
That was an understatement. Assistant Yang had sent Li Baixi all of Cheng Ping’s new works. Cheng Ping’s rise in skill was like a rocket; he was now a recognized talent.
But Cheng Ping showed no pride, “I’ve been wanting to ask, these years with Zhang’s bad luck and downfall, was it your doing?”
Li Baixi almost forgot about him, “Oh, come to think of it, I did leave some precautions before I left, to prevent him from retaliating against you.”
Cheng Ping stared at him.
The darkness created an illusion of losing control. Turning away from Cheng Ping’s semi-permanent smile, all Li Baixi could see was the past image, angry and fierce, like ready to punch or bite his lip.
Cheng Ping: “Li Baixi.”
Li Baixi strained to hear past the monotonous dripping water, trying to catch if Cheng Ping’s breathing had quickened.
A faint phone vibration cut through the air. Cheng Ping pulled out his phone, the screen’s glow lighting up his calm face, shattering the illusion.
Li Baixi stepped back, “What is it?”
Cheng Ping: “Oh, it’s my family, asking when I’ll be back at the hotel.”
Li Baixi was surprised. Last he checked, Cheng Ping was still distant from his family.
“You…”
Cheng Ping: “My brother’s grown a bit, sometimes pesters me with questions. Relations have eased. My parents… probably feel proud of me now.”
He hesitated before adding, “They’re even arranging a match for me.”
Li Baixi was at a loss for words.
He heard himself half-jokingly ask, “A match? With a man or a woman?”
Cheng Ping: “My parents arranged it, so a woman. They say she knows my orientation but doesn’t mind.”
Li Baixi opened his mouth, then closed it.
He had heard too many stories, understood human nature. He knew the Cheng Ping from three years ago, but had no right to question the man before him.
The phone vibrated again. Cheng Ping hung up, “I have to go.”
Li Baixi: “Alright, let’s meet again sometime.”
No specific time, just an empty promise.
Cheng Ping gave him a long, deep look, as if wanting to say more, but left without another word.
Li Baixi watched his retreating figure.
Backstage three years ago, he thought Cheng Ping might hate him for forcing a choice. Tonight, Cheng Ping seemed to have moved beyond even hate. Time washed away everything, smoothed it all over, taking it away. Li Baixi didn’t know how to feel about this.
Cheng Ping returned to the hotel, greeted his parents, and went to his room.
He sat by his suitcase, pulling out an old painting from a long-unused compartment.
This painting was handed to him by Ma Koukou after the wrap of ‘Crane Umbrella.’ It depicted the Louvre, with two figures holding hands in front of a painting.
On the back, it read: “Do not extinguish, I will always be your devotee.”
He didn’t know how he got through those days, recalling only a blank period.
According to Assistant Yang, he attended the wrap party, handled formalities, and returned home. Then he asked to meet with the company to discuss contract termination and regain control of his accounts to make his own statement.
He was in the middle of a heated discussion with his reluctant agent when Emperor Lu called to welcome him back.
Emperor Lu knew everything, including what Cheng Ping intended to do.
Emperor Lu: “I’m not here to persuade you.”
But Cheng Ping valued the elder’s opinion, asking, “What would you do? How can I accept what he sacrificed for me? But if I don’t endure, his sacrifice is meaningless. Did he calculate this, forcing me to accept?”
Emperor Lu looked at him gently, “I understand, both of you suffered.”
Tears suddenly fell from Cheng Ping’s eyes.
Cheng Ping: “Must I live a lie until I die? At least in my own life, I don’t want to play another role.”
Emperor Lu: “That depends on what you truly want inside. If you act for yourself today, can you endure the silence for the next decades? Frankly, before you reach an irreplaceable position, you’re just a product on the assembly line. Once replaced, opportunities will vanish, and even if you see a role you love, you can only perform for your own lamp at home… You’ll stop loving yourself, losing the power to love others.”
His agent had said similar things, but hearing it from Emperor Lu felt different. Each word seemed dug from his own past, carrying an ancient chill.
Emperor Lu looked at him, both sad and kind, “When that time comes, will you regret today’s choice?”
Cheng Ping was deeply moved.
Emperor Lu: “I hope you think it through. At my age, I no longer see anyone as more noble. It’s just personal choice. Life is lived once; I don’t want to see you regret.”
Cheng Ping heard the paper’s sorrowful creak, realizing he was gripping the painting too tightly.
He smoothed it and put it back.
Li Baixi had bathed, drank, and was ready to sleep when he received Ma Koukou’s voice message.
He casually asked, “How did it go?”
Ma Koukou: “I tearfully read three pages of English to him, he forgave me. We might be back together.”
“Congratulations.”
“But now I want to run away.”
Li Baixi: “…”
Li Baixi angrily asked, “What’s wrong with you?”
Ma Koukou, tearful, said, “I just came to apologize, didn’t expect forgiveness. Li, what did I do to deserve this? Honestly, I dream of him leaving me every day… It’s so painful.”
Li Baixi rolled his eyes, “Let me ask this: what do you think he likes about you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think hard.”
Ma Koukou hesitated, “Maybe he’s never met a weirdo like me, got enchanted.”
Li Baixi: “… You know yourself well?”
Ma Koukou began crying again.
Li Baixi, frustrated, said, “Here’s a suggestion: tone down the weirdness, act like you want a serious future. If he wakes up, you can leave.”
Ma Koukou: “Good idea, I’ll consider it. How did things go with Cheng Ping?”
Li Baixi was silent for a few seconds, “We talked a bit, then he had to go.”
Ma Koukou, anxious, asked, “That’s it? What’s the status? Is it over?”
Li Baixi chuckled, “Hasn’t it been over for three years?”
Ma Koukou insisted, “No, I don’t accept that. He can’t let go that easily. You sacrificed so much for him, left your career to start over, got tanned…”
Li Baixi: “.”
Li Baixi: “Got tanned?”
Ma Koukou: “A bit.”
Li Baixi slowly said, “That’s why I can’t use it as leverage.”
Ma Koukou, puzzled, asked, “What nonsense, still obsessed with purity? I need to find out what Cheng Ping thinks.”
“Don’t. He’s doing well, no need to disturb him.”
Ma Koukou: “?”
Suddenly Ma Koukou asked, “What are you afraid of?”
Li Baixi: “I’m not afraid.”
Ma Koukou laughed, whispering, “What are you afraid of?”
Li Baixi was speechless, then asked, “What are you afraid of?”
Ma Koukou: “…”
Ma Koukou: “Sorry, goodbye.”
A few days later.
During a live stream, the former captain saw a comment: “Li Baixi is live next door.”
The resurrected name changed his expression.
The former captain had accepted Zhang the actor’s promise of “washing clean and gaining popularity” and stepped on Cheng Ping. Unexpectedly, Li Baixi’s move saved Cheng Ping.
Li Baixi’s video took the focus away from him. All the gossipers forgot about him.
His plan failed, and after retiring, he barely maintained his popularity with live streaming, watching Cheng Ping soar.
He seemed cursed, first with a bad contract, then losing his girlfriend. Drunkenly cursing a bartender was filmed and posted online, further ruining his reputation.
Looking at Zhang the actor’s fate, he suspected he was also on someone’s blacklist.
He always believed Cheng Ping was behind it, but after a hint, he thought it might be Li Baixi.
Now, he barely maintained his audience by being outrageous. The viewers wanted drama, so he decided to join Li Baixi’s live stream.
Li Baixi was painting. The description said he was staying in a village he had visited while traveling and was doing a charity live stream, painting local children and auctioning the works for donation.
He focused on painting, unable to read the comments, so a host sat beside him, selecting questions to read aloud.
The former captain’s viewers, sensing drama, egged him on.
The former captain laughed, “This is what you want?” He typed, “Describe the details of harassing Cheng Ping?”
Oh! The viewers were excited.
He sent a few more messages, catching the host’s attention. The host’s face changed and said, “Mods, handle that.”
Li Baixi heard, “What’s wrong?”
The host didn’t answer.
The former captain’s viewers stirred the pot, filling the chat with arguments.
The host was overwhelmed, unable to address Li Baixi.
Just then, a golden text scrolled across the screen: “Esteemed user ‘LovesAllApples’ has entered the room.”
Cheng Ping: “…”
He had been watching from home, unable to take it anymore, and logged in to intervene, forgetting how much he had spent three years ago.
The highlighted entrance startled him, but he thought no one would recognize him, and Li Baixi wouldn’t watch the replay.
So he charged more, unleashing a barrage of gold text, dominating the chat.
He spotted a comment at the bottom: “XXX did it.”
XXX was the former captain’s nickname.
Cheng Ping paused, then entered the former captain’s stream, seeing him cursing, “Who’s this gold text? Li Baixi’s crazy fan? Dreaming of harassment?”
Cheng Ping cracked his knuckles.
Gold text: [It’s your grandpa.]
The former captain’s viewers panicked: [Gold text is attacking!]
“What?” The former captain put down his phone to see the gold text attacking.
He hadn’t anticipated meeting a master. The gold text overwhelmed him, with superior speed, firepower, and system-dodging skills, hitting all his sore spots.
The former captain was stunned, trying to hint to his mods to ban the user, but it was too late. His viewers, seeing his darkening expression, egged him on, “Blushing! Blushing!”
Cheng Ping was furiously typing when his phone buzzed.
Li Baixi sent a: “?”
The keyboard fell silent.
Cheng Ping thought Li Baixi wouldn’t watch the replay, but the host had reviewed the live stream and told Li Baixi about the gold text.
Li Baixi, curious, watched the replay.
In the former captain’s stream, the gold text abruptly stopped.
The attacker vanished, leaving the former captain fumbling to recover.
Li Baixi waited, then sent another: “?”
The phone screen lit up and dimmed. Cheng Ping buried his face in his pillow, pretending to be an ostrich.
Beyond embarrassment, he felt anger at himself and at Li Baixi’s persistent questioning.
He didn’t know what Li Baixi wanted to hear.
The answer he gave to Emperor Lu that day?
The response to his family about the match?
After all this time, after Li Baixi’s rebirth, how should he express himself—
Funny, while you wandered, all I could do was be a keyboard warrior.
You anticipated this, knowing from the day you left, we were no longer equal.
Despite this, I still hope your vast heart has a corner for me, under the Milky Way, in the pine winds.
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