Chapter 100: They Will Meet Again

“The filming for ‘Cycle’ MV is finished.”
Sikong Xiu was the first to stand and applaud, clapping as he backed away. “Congratulations, everyone, we’re wrapped! I’ve got something to take care of, so I’ll be heading out—”
He had barely turned around.
Zhou Yili was leaning carelessly against the wall, holding Shen Jixing’s silver longsword, blowing on its blade with a nonchalant, disdainful air.
“Where are you off to?”
Sikong Xiu: “……”
Wasn’t this guy just filming the last scene in the room?
Teleportation, apparently.
“My house blew up,” Sikong Xiu said, his foxlike eyes curved in a smiling arc, delivering the nonsense with a straight face.
Zhou Yili gave a vague “oh.”
“Why didn’t it blow you up along with it?”
“……”
What kind of question was that?
Seeing Zhou Yili’s barely contained irritation, Sikong Xiu almost found it funny. “Having you act in a breakup script is like pulling teeth.”
Zhou Yili remained cold as ever.
Whenever Shen Jixing wasn’t around, he was the picture of aloof, untouchable nobility.
“It depends who I’m acting with.”
Acting with Shen Jixing was out of the question.
Sikong Xiu could only keep smiling. “Would you act with someone else?”
If he wouldn’t act with Shen Jixing, he wouldn’t act with anyone at all.
The old fox was born sly; as thoughts spun, he could only come up with this supposedly foolproof solution.
Though it hardly seemed foolproof…
Zhou Yili was still himself—a faint chill in his eyes, which let Sikong Xiu recall something familiar.
It was how Zhou Yili looked just after a breakup.
Damn, maybe they’d gone too far…
He and Shen Jixing had teamed up to trick this silly kid—would Zhou Yili now be angry with Shen Jixing, too?
“Teacher Shen!”
A staff member’s voice called out nearby, “Congratulations on the wrap! Are you coming to tonight’s wrap party?”
Shen Jixing was already dressed in his usual attire—a white, soft-collared casual shirt, elegant and distant as he nodded, “Thank you.”
He didn’t answer about the party. “Let me check.”
Shen Jixing walked calmly toward Zhou Yili.
From the moment Shen Jixing appeared, Zhou Yili’s gaze never left him. Sikong Xiu could guess the answer now.
Angry.
But the kind of anger easily soothed.
Despite his arrogant young master’s air, he stared at that tall, proud figure, never blinking.
Rather cute, really.
“Are you coming tonight?” Shen Jixing asked mildly.
Zhou Yili glanced at him, noting how quickly he’d changed out of his costume after filming, then looked away.

“Whatever.”
Shen Jixing watched him for two seconds, then replied to the staff, “We’ll be there.”
The staff shrieked and ran off.
“Tonight Star’s wife will come to the celebration dinner, we’ll eat with Star’s wife, ahhh, I’m the happiest little girl in the world!!!”
At that title, Zhou Yili narrowed his eyes.
His already foul mood worsened.
“Why are you still wearing the sensor?” Sikong Xiu suddenly noticed something.
Zhou Yili followed his gaze; on his wrist, extending from the cold white cuff, was a silver metallic bracelet.
A hint of icy restraint.
“Where’s the flower?” Sikong Xiu became Zhou Yili’s mouthpiece.
Shen Jixing, draped in icy white, showed no sign of a rose. He glanced up, his gaze gently sweeping over Zhou Yili’s lowered eyes.
“Find it yourself.”
…
Shen Jixing didn’t dislike those little roses.
He kept them on him, maybe to please Zhou Yili—a proud, cold man who didn’t mind those tokens of affection.
Zhou Yili’s mood brightened just a bit.
“Boring.”
He looked Shen Jixing up and down, searching in vain for any trace of a rose in the snowy landscape. “I’m not looking.”
Shen Jixing didn’t look at him again, turning to discuss some plot details with Sikong Xiu.
The two of them knew the whole story; together, they’d tricked him alone. Zhou Yili reached out with devilish fingers to tug at Shen Jixing’s collar.
Shen Jixing was startled, gripping his hand. “Zhou Yili!”
A faint blush, tinged with annoyance, spread over his ears as he glared at Zhou Yili, who was carelessly searching for the little rose. “Let go, you scoundrel.”
Broad daylight, acting like a little rogue?
Zhou Yili’s gesture was entirely instinctive—he just wanted to touch Shen Jixing, bored with their conversation. He withdrew his hand nonchalantly.
“You’ll find out tonight.”
Zhou Yili’s casual tone was ambiguous, but Shen Jixing more or less understood his meaning.
Tonight, he would know.
Just what kind of rascal Zhou Yili was.
“Hello,” Sikong Xiu tried to interrupt their flirting. “Do you two remember I exist?”
They didn’t avoid him at all.
Zhou Yili glanced up and retorted, “You exist?”
Brotherhood isn’t about having each other’s backs.
It’s about stabbing your brother twice when bored.
Sikong Xiu gave up trying to argue with this love-struck fool and said to Shen Jixing, “I’ll message you the details later.”
Shen Jixing still had scenes to reshoot.
The pain in a mage’s life was far deeper than it seemed.
The agony of injection, the struggle in letting go of the little lion, blood and wounds, finally dissolving into dust.

These were moments he never let Zhou Yili witness.
Shen Jixing was always used to bearing everything alone.
Yet he never realized that someone was willing to be trapped in eternal cycles of despair for him.
“What’s there to discuss?” Zhou Yili tried to join the plot conversation. “Why not talk to me?”
Sikong Xiu paused.
He smiled awkwardly but politely. “Should we turn ‘Cycle’ into a period, or maybe a pink heart-shaped happy ending?”
He feared Zhou Yili would just wave his hand and resurrect everyone on the spot, turning it into a time-reversal story to save his lover.
Zhou Yili scoffed.
“So what?”
Sikong Xiu was called away by the stage manager; he gestured to Shen Jixing.
Still sulking—better soothe him, or he might ruin the celebration party tonight.
Shen Jixing: “……”
He wasn’t good at soothing people, only at stating the facts.
Everything in Snowfall Town was being dismantled; the Christmas decorations were taken down one by one, leaving emptiness in their wake.
“Cycle doesn’t suit a happy ending. Your new album’s theme isn’t happiness.”
Zhou Yili didn’t deny it, letting Shen Jixing lead him away from the town.
“This album was prepared for two years.”
He meant, when he started preparing the album, he didn’t know Shen Jixing would come to him.
Shen Jixing found it amusing. “Then why are you angry? This was the ending set from the start, and it’s the best for you…”
It was the script that best fit Zhou Yili’s album theme.
Any random changes might trigger a reversal in his career.
“There’s no such thing as a predetermined ending.”
Zhou Yili seemed never to fear the unknown. “If I want, I decide the ending.”
His fearlessness broke through convention—bold, relentless.
He was the one who compromised.
Because Shen Jixing cried.
He shed a tear at the end of the story, so Zhou Yili gave in to him in everything.
“You’re terrible at comforting people.”
He just didn’t want Shen Jixing’s first appearance in his lens to end this way.
Zhou Yili seemed incapable of accepting any form of Shen Jixing’s departure.
Snowfall Town was being dismantled; they stood in the realm of North Mountain, about to leave, as if watching the world collapse beneath their feet.
“Someone has to step forward, even if they’re erased in the river of time.”
Zhou Yili knew what his next line would be.
He turned, glaring fiercely at him, “Don’t say it.”
Shen Jixing looked at the little lion trapped in a cycle, unwilling to awaken, and smiled gently at him: “But they will meet again.”
“I love you, I love you.”