When the cameras went off, Yushan's hand moved away from Jun's shoulder almost instantly, like he had been waiting the entire time for that moment.
Jun felt the absence immediately.
The warmth that had lingered against his shoulder vanished, replaced by a hollow space that seemed to grow wider by the second.
The smile that had stayed on Yushan's face for the sake of the live stream faded without effort, dissolving like it had never existed.
He sat still, staring blankly ahead, every trace of composure now just a fragile shell.
Jun stood up, "The last time I checked," he said after a moment, his voice low but stripped of warmth, "we signed a contract to partner up." He paused, the silence stretching as he looked toward Yushan. "Was it changed and I wasn't informed about it?"
His tone wasn't confrontational, it was quiet, level, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.
Yushan finally stood up also, his movement unhurried. He turned first toward Jun, then toward the directors, whose faces were still frozen in a mix of disbelief and restraint.
"Sorry, you were right," he said, directing his words to them rather than Jun. "I was making decisions without thinking. And now, after giving it a thought, I don't want to partner up with anyone permanently. I'd rather take different projects, work with different people when needed." His voice was calm but far from apologetic.
The directors exchanged uncertain glances. The quiet stretched, until Nana finally spoke up. "We can wrap up here for today," she said carefully. "We'll get back to you later with the new schedule. For now, you can rest."
"Okay." Yushan's response came with the same indifferent calm. He turned toward Jun, his expression unreadable. "Should we?" he asked, gesturing toward the door leading out of the studio.
Jun blinked, momentarily thrown by the question. He didn't know how to take it... an act of politeness or an empty formality.
Yushan's unpredictability unsettled him. He hated it, hated the way he couldn't tell what Yushan truly meant. Without replying, he walked toward the door.
Outside, their chauffeur was waiting, the same one assigned to them for the past week, ever since the company had ordered that they spend time together and even share a hotel suite to build "chemistry." Now, the purpose of that seemed pointless.
~
Inside the studio, silence settled heavy over the four left behind. Jie leaned back against the wall, crossing her arms tightly, while the three directors remained standing, as if still trying to process what had just happened.
"This is getting out of control," Director Feng muttered at last, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "And I hate that I'm even considering this, but we might have to give the series to our second-best; Li Zhan and Wei Wei."
Nana turned toward him. "You know that's not going to happen," she said, her tone soft but firm. "The producer specifically wanted Yushan for this project. We're introducing a completely new genre for our studio, a complex fantasy BL with Alpha and Omega dynamics. Our fan base isn't used to that kind of story, and we can't risk losing their attention. Keeping Yushan is the safest choice we have."
She paused, glancing briefly at the others. "Even if the story starts with themes that might confuse viewers, Yushan's presence guarantees engagement. His fans will keep watching, even if only for him. By the time they realize what kind of story they're actually watching, they'll already be hooked."
Director Feng sighed, but he didn't argue. His shoulders sagged under the weight of exhaustion and pressure. "Fine. Then what do we do about his current behavior? It's not just stubbornness anymore."
"Since the producer's still in the building, why don't we call a quick meeting?" suggested the third director, his tone practical. "We can discuss how to handle this before things spiral further."
"You're right," Nana agreed. "I'll secure the meeting with him. In the meantime, you should release the rest of the cast from rehearsal. Today's schedule is already in ruins."
They walked out in silence. When they stepped out, the hallway lights reflected sharply off the polished floor, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors.
Each of them peeled off in different directions, their minds already racing ahead to what would come next.
Within minutes, the core team had assembled in the boardroom... the producer seated at the head of the table, the CEO beside him. The air was tense, thick with the hum of restrained frustration.
"If working without a fixed partner is what Yushan wants," the CEO began, his deep voice cutting through the quiet, "then I don't see an issue. He's still under our company. This isn't a loss."
Nana straightened in her seat. "But... Sir," she began, her tone steady but urgent, "the reason we push for actor pairings is because it's easier for fans to invest in a duo than in a single artist. It helps us build emotional continuity, and right now, we were counting on Yushan and Jun's partnership to erase the Yu–Xin image from public memory. If Yushan keeps changing partners, it'll only..."
The CEO raised a hand, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Yushan already has an established fanbase, one that's proven its loyalty. They won't leave him just because of changing co-stars," he said firmly. "Besides, this might actually protect us from another scandal. The closer he gets to a co-actor, the higher the risk. We've already seen what happens when fans think there's more between him and a colleague than there should be."
The producer nodded in agreement. "Exactly. As long as we don't put Yushan and Xin in the same frame again, the speculation will die down eventually. Let the fans say what they want. Time will dull the noise."
"But Sir," Nana tried again ..
"We've lost enough time already," the CEO interrupted, "the release date for the new series is nearly upon us. Shall we get to work?!"
The silence that followed carried a quiet defeat. One by one, the team nodded.
"Yes, sir," they answered together.
The meeting ended as quickly as it began