AGJN 062: I Didn’t Want to Either, Xuanguang Made the First Move

“So, when Lan He said you two have a good relationship, it’s true?”

Song Futan didn’t respond, but his gaze said it all.

Even though he was wearing a mask, everyone could feel the thick sense of mockery. They felt a stinging embarrassment—who told them to think they understood Xuanguang? Even now, they were still finding it hard to believe.

Someone nervously asked, “Could you take off your mask? I just want to confirm your identity…”

Song Futan: “…………”

The others: “Pfft.”

Although it was a bit funny to ask that so directly, this reporter’s words did reflect the sentiment of many. Anyone with even a little knowledge of the film industry, or who followed gossip, knew what kind of figure Xuanguang was.

You couldn’t really blame them for jumping to conclusions.

Xuanguang was someone who rarely showed up in public. There were rumors that his health wasn’t great, that he disliked attending events, and that he wouldn’t stay with a film crew for long periods. He didn’t have many friends in the industry either. Some said he was arrogant, but the thing was—he was indeed talented. His level of sarcasm could sometimes soar to the skies, and you wouldn’t even be able to argue back…

When people heard he was involved in *Beijing Seasonal Records*, they were shocked. His screen time was minimal, basically just voice acting, so there weren’t many details to glean, and most of what circulated were just rumors. In the end, they believed their own gossip.

It was already surprising enough that Lan He, previously considered to have no chance, suddenly became the lead. But it was even more shocking that Xuanguang really did have a good relationship with Lan He, just as Lan He had said? It wasn’t sarcasm or an attempt to smooth things over??

“But… what did you see in him? Why was it him?” The reporter’s words were a bit jumbled.

If nothing else, Song Qiyun knew the answer to that one. He said, “Both Xuanguang and I think Lan He is adorable!”

Reporters: “………………”

The reporters were utterly thrown off.

Isn’t Lan He Miao? Did he put a spell on the two of them?!

Thankfully, Song Qiyun quickly clarified: “Just like the protagonist in *Ghostly Charm*.”

Everyone finally caught on—oh, he was talking about character traits.

But they still wanted to dig deeper into Song Futan’s timeline. “So, did Teacher Xuanguang and Lan He become friends while recording *Beijing Seasonal Records*?”

Song Qiyun replied, “No, I was introduced to Lan He by the Chen Xingyu family early on. We live in the same neighborhood.”

Everyone: “……”

They almost forgot Lan He had once babysat Chen Xingyu’s child…

So, you knew each other even before *Beijing Seasonal Records*?

Some quick thinkers connected this to what Song Futan had said about their good relationship, recalling that no one really knew why he had joined this show. Tentatively, they asked, “Then… Teacher Xuanguang, did your decision to join *Beijing Seasonal Records* have something to do with Chen Xingyu or Lan He?”

Song Futan: “It had nothing to do with Chen Xingyu.”

Everyone: “……”

…So it had to do with Lan He?!

This was too much. The more they asked, the more their faces stung.

As reason slowly returned, they tried to make sense of Xuanguang’s thoughts. Maybe it was the classic case of a creator finding their muse and changing their temperament… though technically, this muse was male rather than female.

But Song Futan had already said everything he was willing to, and he stepped down from the stage. The reporters, still eager for answers, swarmed Song Qiyun instead.

Meanwhile, Lan He and Dou Chunting were listening backstage—thanks to the loud microphones, they could hear everything clearly.

When Song Futan said that there was no competition or other candidates and that Lan He was the only choice, Lan He felt his heart race, picking up on something deeper in those words.

Dou Chunting, seeing his expression, let out a sigh. Usually such a cool and refreshing actor, once he fell in love, he became like this—completely lost in the fantasy woven by a scumbag!

What a tragedy. Of course there were no other candidates. Lan He was the one who resembled Xiao Qian the most. As for Wang Lu, Xiao Yuqian, and the others? No matter how good their acting skills were, they didn’t have Lan He’s innate advantage.

Dou Chunting said heavily, “If one day, you have any issues with my brother… you can come to me.”

He had already thought it through—if Lan He ever found out the truth and broke ties with his cousin, his cousin might use his connections to blacklist Lan He. In that case, perhaps he could help his cousin make amends in some way.

Lan He: “What are you talking about, little brother?”

But before Dou Chunting could respond, Song Futan had already entered the room. Dou Chunting quickly stood up and slipped away.

Song Futan noticed Dou Chunting’s guilty look and asked, “What was he doing?”

Lan He, still confused, replied, “I don’t know. Maybe he has a grudge against you and wants to invite me to play cards?”

.

The press conference ended with everyone reluctantly leaving, and when the media returned, they each drafted their headlines, one more sensational than the next.

[Song Qiyun: Both Xuanguang and I find Lan He adorable; Xuanguang: He was my only choice]

[Inside Scoop on *Ghostly Charm* Casting: Lan He and Xuanguang’s Unusual Relationship]

[From *Ghostly Charm* Lead Casting, Let’s Discuss Those Long-Standing Rumors]

[Did Lan He Win Over Song Qiyun and His Son? This All Goes Back to Lan He’s Babysitting Skills…]

After lunch, when people checked the news, ready for some juicy gossip, they were completely thrown off—or rather, they choked on this particular piece of gossip.

【I’m coughing up blood. So, have I been eating fake gossip this whole time?!】

【How am I supposed to face my friends now? I was so confidently explaining the rumors about Lan He and Xuanguang to everyone!】

【I’m exhausted. Who said Lan He would have a hard time getting good projects for his next role? Who said he had little hope of even playing a villain in *Ghostly Charm*?】

【This is terrifying. You guys need to watch the full video of Song Qiyun and Xuanguang. They said Lan He was cast because he’s “adorable.” I’m speechless (I know they clarified later that it was because his character fit the role, but this is still wild).】

【That reporter asked the question we were all thinking. Is Xuanguang a fake? This isn’t the Xuanguang I remember! Teacher, your persona is falling apart!】

【These damn media outlets—what are they even shocked about? You guys were the ones who started the rumors about them not getting along, and now you’re getting slapped in the face, dragging me along with you to eat the wrong gossip.】

【Excuse me, but why would babysitting skills land someone a role? Is Song Qiyun’s new movie about parenting?】

【You must watch the video—words can’t describe the level of sarcasm in Xuanguang’s tone.】

【One of the entertainment industry’s unsolved mysteries has just been solved. Xuanguang didn’t join *Beijing Seasonal Records* because of debt; he wanted to hang out with Lan He… So, was the rumor about them not getting along just a misunderstanding? Maybe it was friends messing around and getting edited out, especially since Xuanguang barely had any screen time.】

【This is horrifying. Were all the things I read before just brainwashing gossip? I always thought Xuanguang was the cold and distant type.】

【Liu Chunyang, Wang Mao, Song Qiyun, Xuanguang, you all… I… you all…】

Netizens were having a tough time. They hadn’t even recovered from the drama of *Geometry of Dreams*, and now they were hit with another bombshell from Xuanguang that left their heads spinning.

Famous friendships in the entertainment industry weren’t uncommon. Many directors had their favorite actors, and it wasn’t unusual for creators to show bias. The problem was, everyone had been so deeply invested in the wrong gossip for so long, and now the emotional blow was severe.

Some netizens, eager to stir things up, even dug out old discussions from *Transcendence*, especially comments like “eliminate the wrong answer Lan He” and “everyone else can have hope, only He Pigeons can give up,” just for entertainment…

As they say, shared embarrassment is better than suffering alone, so everyone found some dark humor in it.

Lan He’s fans were utterly dumbfounded.

【I’m a He Pigeon, and I’ve never paid much attention to *Ghostly Charm* gossip. Today, I was suddenly told it’s like New Year’s, and now I don’t know whether to laugh or not—I wasn’t ready to celebrate…】

【I’m sorry, I really wasn’t mentally prepared. I was just telling my friends how pitiful my brother is, that he can’t land any roles, and how the company hasn’t even hired him an assistant in a long time. Now my friends are bombarding me with news, full of question marks—how do I explain this?】

If Lan He weren’t still signed with a small company and if Song Qiyun and his son weren’t known for their works more than their attitudes, He Pigeons might have even suspected some backstage connections.

While the He Pigeons were suddenly celebrating, fans of other actors were hit hard.

They wanted to shout that it was all shady, but the screenshots from *Transcendence* had just resurfaced, showing that everyone had agreed Lan He’s performance was unmatched…

So they could only grit their teeth and say that Lan He was just relying on his Miao heritage and his ability to cast spells.

The rumor about casting spells became a meme among netizens and, unexpectedly, helped dispel another long-standing rumor—that Lan He was Mongolian.

…

Even Lan He’s company hadn’t anticipated this situation. While they knew that Song Futan and Lan He had a decent relationship, they had no idea that Song Futan had actually joined *Beijing Seasonal Records* just to support Lan He. The level of favoritism was beyond their imagination.

They were momentarily dumbfounded. They had previously thought it was best to stay low-key, fearing that the role might change, so they didn’t dare to make any public announcements and had asked Lan He to focus on his script, cherishing the rare opportunity. In hindsight, they wished they had celebrated the news from the start!

Over the next two days, Lan He turned down many interview requests—not on purpose, but because he had to help Song Qiyun with casting. For some of the supporting role auditions, he had to participate in the scenes, leaving him little free time.

Like today, after rehearsing scenes during the day, he had to visit Grandpa Dou in the evening. Since it was a visit to Grandpa Dou, not only did Hu 79 insist on coming along, but Bai Wu also wanted to go.

Bai Wu figured, who knows, maybe he’d end up living there someday—might as well start getting familiar with the place…

A slightly awkward situation arose when Xiao Yuqian also came to audition that day.

Though he hadn’t landed the lead role, Song Qiyun thought Xiao Yuqian might be suitable for the male lead’s teammate, meaning the second male lead.

Initially aiming for the lead, Xiao Yuqian reluctantly decided to audition for the second male lead when that fell through—after all, it was still a role in Song Qiyun’s film.

Of course, not all actors were willing to do the same. Wang Lu, for instance, felt his pride was at stake and didn’t audition for any other roles. When reporters mentioned Lan He, he grew bitter, feeling that had it not been for Lan He securing the lead first, he might have had a chance.

Why was Lan He deemed more “adorable” than him??

Even Xiao Yuqian, when he saw Lan He again, had mixed feelings. He had once thought it would be great to work with Lan He, but now it seemed the opportunity was there—just with their roles reversed…

But when they began the scene, Xiao Yuqian was stunned. Though he hadn’t seen the entire script, the part Lan He played, Xiao Lai, felt so natural—almost as if the character was made for him.

The fit was just too perfect. Xiao Yuqian started to understand why Xuanguang, as the screenwriter, had said Lan He was the only choice.

Sigh, he understood, but he still felt bitter.

Song Qiyun had already seen Xiao Yuqian’s audition footage before, and this time, he felt Xiao Yuqian’s chemistry with Lan He was pretty good too. He exchanged a nod with the producer, indicating that they were ready to cast him. Right then and there, he hinted at the decision to Xiao Yuqian.

“Thank you, Director Song.” Having originally aimed for the lead, Xiao Yuqian’s excitement at landing the role wasn’t as high.

Lan He shook his hand. “Congratulations.”

“Same to you…” Xiao Yuqian added, still somewhat sour, “I heard Yu Mengmeng is also auditioning… You’re so lucky. She must be auditioning for the female lead, right? I wonder if I’ll have any scenes with her.”

Yu Mengmeng was a well-known actress, beloved for her looks, popularity, and acting skills. Though the specifics weren’t clear, it was obvious she would be auditioning for the female lead.

Xiao Yuqian had always been a fan of Yu Mengmeng—everyone knew that, even his fans—so he was especially envious of Lan He.

Lan He: “Uh…”

There was something Lan He wasn’t sure whether he should say. He hesitated, then glanced at Song Qiyun.

Song Qiyun looked at Xiao Yuqian and said calmly, “You’ll have a lot of scenes with Yu Mengmeng. You two will be in a romantic relationship.”

Xiao Yuqian froze for a moment, then was overjoyed. “A love triangle?”

Song Qiyun: “No, just you and Yu Mengmeng.”

“Wait, then who’s Xiao Lai’s love interest?” Xiao Yuqian was following the usual logic. Shouldn’t the female lead be with the male lead? And another thing clicked for him—Song Qiyun was referring to the actor, meaning the female lead had been decided. “So it really is Yu Mengmeng? Me and Yu Mengmeng?”

“Xiao Lai doesn’t have a love story…” Song Qiyun said, sounding a bit exasperated. It was Song Futan who had refused to give Xiao Lai any romantic storyline, but since the film still needed emotion, the romance was given to the female lead and the second male lead.

“Why doesn’t he have one?! Ah, it doesn’t matter!” Xiao Yuqian hugged Lan He tightly. “Thank you!! Thank you, Director Song!!! You’ve made my dream come true!!!”

Lan He: “…”

Song Qiyun laughed. “You’re more excited about this than landing the role. You really are Yu Mengmeng’s little fanboy, huh?”

Xiao Yuqian’s admiration for her was well-known to his fans, but not to Song Qiyun. Embarrassed, Xiao Yuqian smiled, “Yeah. I was just thinking earlier about how I missed out on the lead role and the chance to act alongside Yu Mengmeng. I never imagined there’d be a twist of fate like this.”

Sitting nearby, Song Futan glanced over at them.

Song Qiyun chuckled, “My son’s probably thinking that it wasn’t just a missed opportunity—it was never an option in the first place.”

Xiao Yuqian: “…Did you really have to say it out loud?”

Though he was disappointed about not landing the lead role, the consolation of getting the second lead and potentially acting alongside Yu Mengmeng soothed Xiao Yuqian’s heart.

As they left, Xiao Yuqian and Lan He walked side by side, with Song Futan nearby. Xiao Yuqian couldn’t help but glance at Lan He. He thought to himself, so many people online were surprised, but if they had read the script, they wouldn’t be. If he were the writer, seeing an actor fit his character so perfectly, he’d be just as enamored.

He could already imagine the audience’s reactions once the movie was released—people would surely be amazed at how seamlessly Lan He embodied the role of Xiao Lai.

Xiao Yuqian’s gaze was so obvious that even without saying anything, Lan He and Song Futan both knew what he was thinking.

This script was special. It was born from an unexpected crossing of paths between life and death, refined through misunderstandings about mortality, and finally greenlit after a fateful encounter.

It wasn’t just Xiao Yuqian—Song Qiyun himself didn’t realize that it wasn’t a stroke of luck that Lan He matched Xiao Lai so well. Rather, Xiao Lai had been created because of Lan He. Due to certain aliases, Lan He had even considered asking Song Futan to change the character’s name, lest the shadowy circles of Beijing discover that this Xiao Lai was the same one from elsewhere.

*Snap.*

Lan He snapped back to reality. Oh, it was the reporters camping outside the company.

Recently, with many actors meeting Song Qiyun, reporters were naturally keeping a close watch. Seeing the three of them together, the reporters went wild, snapping photos and taking notes.

They were all used to this by now. Xiao Yuqian bid his farewells and got into his own car with his assistant.

Since Lan He and Song Futan’s relationship had already been made public, it was no surprise that they left together in the same car.

Lan He glanced out the window. “I feel like the reporters’ expressions are really complicated… I guess it makes sense. My social media has been blowing up, with people saying they got played by Liu Chunyang and Wang Mao and that they’ve been duped by false gossip. Poor them.”

Hu 79 popped out, saying eerily, “Are you serious? Liu Chunyang and Wang Mao were both tricked by master, so you’re the best actor of them all.”

Lan He: “…”

Song Futan immediately chimed in, “Let’s not mix things up.”

Hu 79 quickly retorted, “As if you’ve never been tricked yourself.”

Song Futan: “…”

Meanwhile, Bai Wu, who had already closed his eyes in agony, muttered, “…Can we please not bring that up again?”

Song Futan drove them to Grandpa Dou’s residence. Even before entering, they could hear birds singing melodiously in the courtyard, indicating that Grandpa Dou was entertaining guests.

Bai Wu, eager for a second chance to explore, popped out and looked around. What a great place…

He carefully examined Grandpa Dou. “Little Song’s grandpa seems easygoing and very clean.”

Hu 79 took a glance as well and said critically, “Hmph, I suppose we can barely count him as family. He’ll be included in the protection.”

Lan He: “…”

Song Futan: “Thank you.”

Lan He: “…………”

Grandpa Dou was entertaining guests today. One of his friends had not only brought a bird but also a dog.

With his hands behind his back, Grandpa Dou was looking at the dog sitting at his friend’s feet. The dog was quite large, with brown fur and two white patches above its eyes. It was lying on the ground, panting, while staring up at the birds.

His friend proudly boasted, “What do you think? My grandson gave it to me. It’s called an Alaskan Malamute, cost me several thousand! I’m planning to move to the countryside for it and plant some melons too. My grandson says it’s good for my health.”

Grandpa Dou sneered. “That dog’s no good.”

His friend immediately felt a bit defensive. Had Grandpa Dou also heard about the “three silly sled dogs” reputation?

Another old man nearby laughed, “Don’t show off your grandson’s dog to Old Dou. He used to raise badger dogs—he’ll probably find all sorts of faults with it.”

Badgers were notorious for stealing crops, and badger dogs were trained to hunt them. It was once a trend in old Beijing, and people had even summarized their experiences into a book called *The Dog-Appreciation Sutra*. Anyone who kept a dog back then could quote a few lines.

Times had changed. Nowadays, no one kept badger dogs, and besides, dog ownership restrictions were stricter in Beijing these days.

That dog appraisal knowledge was still in Grandpa Dou’s head. He wasn’t familiar with Alaskan dogs, but he started listing his standards: “By our criteria, the canine needs complete tiger teeth, a raised head and tail, firm ears, and typically, a black-spotted tongue. The fierce ones are usually black; yellow ones are steady, and blue-coated with white faces are brave…”

His friend, knowing Grandpa Dou didn’t understand the infamous “sled dog trio,” casually interrupted, “Our dog isn’t a hunting dog; it pulls sleds. Besides, never mind all that—just look at the bone structure!”

Grandpa Dou: “I wasn’t done. As the saying goes, no matter how good the rest of it looks, if it’s four-eyed, forget it!”

His friend glanced at the two white patches above the Alaskan dog’s eyes—indeed, it resembled a “four-eyed” dog. Annoyed, he grumbled, “You’re so old-fashioned!”

Lan He, just stepping in, overheard Grandpa Dou’s remarks.

Bai Wu, wiping his glasses, held back tears, “Little Song, I misjudged your grandpa.”

…

Meanwhile, the photos taken of Lan He and the others outside the company were swiftly uploaded online by the reporters, sparking a wave of discussion among netizens.

First, it appeared that Xiao Yuqian was still pursuing other roles—no one knew whether he still held a grudge against Lan He. Second, this was the first time Lan He and Xuanguang were seen together since the press conference, further fueling the trending topic about their relationship.

Netizens marveled, lamenting how they had once been deceived by false rumors.

Only Lan He’s fans felt something was off when they saw the photos.

【Does anyone think Xuanguang’s long bag looks a bit familiar?】

【It’s not just the bag. The more I look, the more the whole person feels familiar.】

Some fans realized—wait a second… isn’t that… isn’t that the black-clad assistant who was always wrapped up more tightly than Lan He himself?

Because the assistant was so well-covered yet had a good figure, they had gained some attention among the fans. A few hardcore *He Pigeon* fans even remembered Lan He once calling this assistant “Futan,” though this was only known by the more dedicated followers.

In the past, no one thought much of it, but now, comparing the details, how could Xuanguang and the assistant “Futan” look so similar?

Wait a minute, come to think of it, Lan He never actually called him an assistant…

After some detective work, comparing details like fingers, bag stitching, and outfit choices, the fans confirmed: it was the same bag, the same person.

【………………?】

【I’ve eaten gossip for years, but I never imagined Xuanguang’s real name would be exposed this way.】

【I used to not believe that Lan He could cast spells.】

【Before today, even if you gave me three lives, I wouldn’t have dared to make up this kind of rumor: Xuanguang has a friend, and he runs errands for said friend.】

【The more we dig, the more our assumptions get crushed. I don’t want to eat any more gossip. My heart hasn’t even recovered from the pain Wang Mao caused. Why are they doing this to me?】

【Just a quick question—can I start shipping them now? The cold genius meets his muse (who happens to be male), and his entire persona collapses. It’s out of control.】

【You’re shifting gears too fast, but I won’t stop you. Who knows how close they really are?】

【I didn’t want this either. Xuanguang made the first move!】

【I’m shipping it! Sisters, let’s flood the screen with “FuLan Mingge” right now—】

【?? How are you all so skilled at this already?】

---

Author’s note:

Lan He: I told the director long ago—tricking people like this isn’t kind.

Bai Wu (as the victim): ????