GRMFBS CH85

Zhan Yan inexplicably received a large sum of money, and before he even had a chance to ask about it, a message popped up:

Zhan Suiru: [Agency fee!]

Zhan Yan: [Thank you, Boss!]

Having obtained a fresh prop and made the acquaintance of an artist he genuinely admired, Ji Lele was in high spirits. Consequently, he found Zhan Yan more and more pleasing to the eye. The kid was good-looking and had great camera presence; while not possessing the sort of face that looked sharper on camera than in real life, he was exceptionally pleasing to look at. He brought a soothing, comfortable presence to the screen—a rare, organic camera affinity.

Stroking his chin, Ji Lele contemplated giving Zhan Yan some extra scenes. But then that blunt question flashed back through his mind: “Does that come with extra pay?”

Forget it. He’d just arrange for extra close-ups directly without telling the kid beforehand!

“You, come here! Stand right here!” Ji Lele plucked Zhan Yan out of the corner he was trying to burrow into, shoving him toward a prominent spot near the front. Once the cameras rolled, he framed Zhan Yan directly in a lingering close-up.

This left Gu Jiancheng, freshly separated from him, glaring helplessly from the sidelines.

Once shooting wrapped, the props crew took the item from Zhan Yan’s hands with beaming smiles, chatting warmly with him.

Because Zhan Yan had found an alternative prop and diffused the director’s fury, the props team hadn’t caught much flak for burning a sculpture from Ji Lele’s private collection—partly because Ji Lele hadn’t spent much money acquiring it in the first place. Everyone was immensely grateful to Zhan Yan.

Xie Dongshu was equally relieved. While no one could strictly blame him for the incident, being caught in the center of it had been horribly awkward.

By fetching a replacement sculpture, Zhan Yan had directly extricated him from an embarrassing predicament.

Xie Dongshu made plans to treat Zhan Yan to a meal, though he felt a single dinner wasn’t nearly enough to express his gratitude.

Unaware of Zhan Yan’s prior “pay raise” dispute, Xie Dongshu simply noticed that Ji Lele intended to give Zhan Yan more screen time. More than happy to forge a good connection, he sat down with Zhan Yan during downtime to chat, sharing insights on how to act and find the camera angle.

Xie Dongshu spoke with total sincerity because he didn’t perceive Zhan Yan as a career threat. They were separated by well over a decade; by the time Zhan Yan established himself, Xie Dongshu would have already transitioned away from playing youthful leading men.

Zhan Yan found these unfamiliar topics genuinely fascinating and listened with rapt attention.

Gu Jiancheng grew jealous. He marched over to Zhan Yan’s side.

Catching sight of Gu Jiancheng, Xie Dongshu was momentarily surprised, though he masked it smoothly. Compared to Zhan Yan, he felt Gu Jiancheng was someone who posed a genuine threat.

Regardless of Gu Jiancheng’s actual acting chops, the distinct aura he radiated would instantly command the audience’s attention.

There were two kinds of actors in this world: those who completely transformed into whoever they played, and those who played nobody but themselves in every role. It was impossible to say which was objectively superior. The latter often faced a narrower range of roles, but with an inherent charm like Gu Jiancheng’s, audiences would chase after his work regardless.

No wonder the director keeps shoving him into the corners, Xie Dongshu realized. This isn’t someone suited for a minor extra—giving him even an extra scrap of screen time would steal the whole scene.

Thoughts raced through his mind, but his face settled into an effortless smile: “Classmates of yours?”

Still seated, Zhan Yan reached up and tugged Gu Jiancheng’s arm, pulling him down to sit right beside him: “My friend.”

He dared not say boyfriend; if word drifted back to Xia Yuexuan, and she casually mentioned it to his father…

Gu Jiancheng grew even more jealous, pressing tightly against Zhan Yan as he sat down.

“You’ve got incredible features. Any interest in pursuing a career in the entertainment industry?” Xie Dongshu asked warmly.

Catching sight of the drama unfolding over there, Ji Lele strolled past clutching a thermos of wolfberry-steeped coffee, grumbling to Xie Dongshu: “Those two? Ha, forget about it. I already asked.”

He pointed first at Gu Jiancheng: “This one gave me exactly two words: ‘Not interested.'”

Then he pointed at Zhan Yan: “And this one? I offered to add scenes, and he asked me for a pay raise!”

“These two just came along for fun to see the sights!” Ji Lele complained bitterly.

Zhan Yan traced an arc in the air, gesturing toward the rest of the college kids, and grinned: “All of us did, actually.”

Having finished venting, Ji Lele walked off with a lighter step to resume directing. Xie Dongshu had a scene coming up as well; he bade them goodbye and turned to leave. Looking back, he saw Zhan Yan casually slinging an arm over Gu Jiancheng’s shoulder as they whispered intimately, the sharp chill in Gu Jiancheng’s eyes softening considerably.

Ah, youth must be nice.

Zhan Yan leaned in close to Gu Jiancheng’s ear, speaking softly.

Gu Jiancheng had just warned him that there was something bizarre about Xie Dongshu, cautioning him not to get too close.

Zhan Yan chuckled against his ear: “What are you getting jealous for? He’s not as handsome as you!”

“I’m not jealous!” Gu Jiancheng insisted. “Even if someone were better-looking than me, that wouldn’t make it okay!”

It really wasn’t purely jealousy. From the day Xie Dongshu stepped foot onto the set, Gu Jiancheng had sensed something abnormal about his aura. Small fires breaking out wherever he went was no coincidence, nor was it some destiny of “carrying fire” as that master had claimed.

Gu Jiancheng had observed him for two days and confirmed Xie Dongshu was not an esper. He had likely offended someone somewhere and been cursed with a technique, causing fires to ignite in his wake.

Who knew if the person Xie Dongshu had crossed was petty and vindictive? What if the backlash spilled over onto whoever was close to him?

Zhan Yan couldn’t stop laughing: “You’re the best looking!”

Taking advantage of his free time, Zhan Yan pulled up the entries in his Gossip System to see why fires followed Xie Dongshu everywhere.

The mystery was solved in short order:

[Xie Dongshu picked up an injured exotic beast, a Bi Fang. Mistaking it for a wounded fledgling, he brought it home and nursed it back to health with meticulous care.]

[Grateful for Xie Dongshu’s care, the Bi Fang resolved to grant him a wish. Entering his dreams, it inquired what Xie Dongshu desired most.

Xie Dongshu answered: “I want to be on fire.” (I want to be wildly famous.)]

The Bi Fang was a mythical bird capable of commanding fire, bearing only a single leg.

Xie Dongshu really drew the short straw here…

Zhan Yan decided to chat with him first.

Nearly a decade separated those two gossip logs. The following day, Zhan Yan steered their conversation toward pets.

Xie Dongshu sighed: “The way I am now, how could I keep a pet?”

Zhan Yan asked, “Did you ever have one in the past?”

Reminiscing, Xie Dongshu opened up: “When I was young, I cared for a one-legged bird.”

“Must have been over twenty years ago, back when I had just started middle school. One day, I picked up a bird.

“It was so gorgeous, covered in red and teal feathers. But one of its legs was broken, leaving it with only a single foot.”

Xie Dongshu sighed softly: “It looked so pitiful, so I brought it home. I had no idea what it ate, so I tested everything. Millet, vegetables, fruit, minced meat… I even hunted bugs specifically for it.”

Zhan Yan had zero doubt Xie Dongshu had cared for it diligently—the Gossip System indicated he had managed to fatten the Bi Fang up by several ounces!

“Hey, I still have a photo!” Xie Dongshu pulled out his phone and scrolled through his album.

The picture on his screen was a photograph taken of an old physical snapshot. Back then, camera phones weren’t around, so people used film cameras.

In the photo, a young Xie Dongshu beamed brilliantly, cupping a plump, round ball of fluff. Shimmering with red and teal plumage, the bird tilted its head with bright, rounded eyes, peering directly into the lens from his palm.

Ah! Was a Bi Fang really this adorable?

“Cute, right?” Xie Dongshu said proudly. “It was so scrawny at first! I nursed it up bit by bit. I called it Qiuqiu.”

Zhan Yan asked Xie Dongshu for the photo: “What happened to Qiuqiu later?”

Sending the picture over, Xie Dongshu sighed: “Later, I heard state announcements saying that if you found a protected animal, you had to hand it over to the authorities, so I gave it up.

“I didn’t know what species Qiuqiu was, and I was terrified of raising it wrong.

“But after handing it over, I kept worrying they wouldn’t care for Qiuqiu properly. I worried for years on end… I don’t even know if Qiuqiu is still around today.”

Of course it’s still around! Zhan Yan thought to himself. That state campaign back then had been orchestrated jointly by the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau and the Wan Yao Alliance to recover demons that had been injured and reverted to their original forms during the Candle Dragon Remnant loop.

Naturally, he couldn’t explain any of this to Xie Dongshu, so Zhan Yan simply offered a few sympathetic words of comfort.

During some downtime that evening, Zhan Yan logged into the chaofan forum, tracked down Luowang, and asked if she could get in touch with the Bi Fang.

Administrator Luowang: [I can.]

Administrator Luowang: [He doesn’t have an account, but I can share my chat window with him.]

Administrator Luowang: [Did something happen?]

Sharing the chat window meant Luowang would definitely end up feasting on this gossip, but Zhan Yan wasn’t sure if the Bi Fang would mind. He had to keep things vague for now.

Approaching Science: [Just some ancient history.] Approaching Science: [If he doesn’t mind, let him chat with me directly.]

Luowang was intrigued. She reached out to the Bi Fang, giving him a brief rundown.

Luowang was fairly well-acquainted with Approaching Science by now; judging by his casual tone, it didn’t seem like anything dire, but there was definitely juicy gossip!

After listening, the Bi Fang turned things over in his head. He couldn’t recall getting involved in any scandalous secrets, so he readily agreed. Using Luowang’s direct message window, he began chatting with Approaching Science.

Approaching Science: [Did someone save your life over twenty years ago?]

Administrator Luowang: [That’s right.]

Administrator Luowang: [I even repaid him.]

Zhan Yan probed tactfully.

Approaching Science: [Do you remember the details of how you repaid him?]

The Bi Fang remembered vividly. After the Wan Yao Alliance retrieved him, he spent several years convalescing. Once he had mostly recovered, he went looking for Xie Dongshu.

By that time, however, relations between the Wan Yao Alliance and the Abnormal Affairs Management Bureau had soured once again, and the Bi Fang found dealing with them too much of a hassle.

Administrator Luowang: [When I tracked him down, I was afraid of frightening him, so I used a Dream-Entering technique to ask what wish he desired.]

Back then, Xie Dongshu had just entered the entertainment industry. His high hopes and dreams had been completely shattered, and in his dazed, half-conscious dream state, he mumbled: “I want fire! I want to blow up, blow up big!”

The Bi Fang had been baffled and deeply troubled. It was such a bizarre request!

Administrator Luowang: [Giving him fire was simple enough, but humans are fragile and easily harmed or scorched by flames. I repeatedly confirmed it with him multiple times! He insisted he wanted fire wherever he went.]

Administrator Luowang: [I spent an eternity researching and tailored an Auspicious Fire Circulation technique just for him. Wherever he walks, peaceful embers will manifest, warding off malevolent filth and catastrophe without ever escalating into a true inferno.]

The Bi Fang still felt he had been remarkably thoughtful and considerate!

Lurking on the side, Luowang had already pieced together the whole story!

The Bi Fang was an ancient demon who never browsed the web; he didn’t even possess a chaofan forum account. He was completely oblivious to modern internet slang and newly coined colloquialisms.

Approaching Science: [In all these years, did nobody ever bother to translate for him that ‘blowing up’ didn’t mean literal fire?]