Chapter Text
Wen Kexing was the role Gong Jun had been waiting for.
He’d cut his teeth on costume dramas and your typical rom coms, but he so desperately wanted something more. But acting paid the bills, helped him buy things for his family, so he’d taken whatever came his way. When his manager approached him with the script for what would become Shan He Ling, he was immediately drawn to the role. Unlike him in so many ways, and with so many nuances and layers, he knew the character would be exactly what he needed to challenge himself and grow as an actor. He had tried for the part before, but had first landed in the reject pile. But COVID had given the original actor time to think, and when the role of the Scorpion King opened up, Li Daikun asked to be recast (quite insightful, in the end, as he was brilliant at capturing the duality of the assassin). So Gong Jun got the chance to audition once more.
The producer, Ma-jie, had been given his name and it was his role to win. All of the candidates had been asked to perform two specific scenes, but he wanted Shan He Ling so badly, he threw in two extra, the last of which was from what would become Episode 17, Wen Kexing’s drunk conversation with Zhou Zishu on the road to Long Pavillion. And Gong Jun could play drunk brilliantly; he could bring out the fluidity and sway of it without artifice. And it was that segment that really won him the part. That and the mandatory beauty and puppy dog eyes. (And, as he learned later, being single -- and thank goodness for that rule!). Soon he would be on his way to Hengdian.
The actor playing opposite him was Zhang Zhehan. Gong Jun was vaguely familiar with Zhang-laoshi from a drama that had been popular ages ago, Demon Girl, though he hadn’t really seen him in much else. But Gong Jun was a demon on the internet, and he looked up all he could find of Zhang Zhehan on Baidu, Weibo, Oasis...anywhere he could go in China, or with a VPN. Zhang Zhehan, he learned, was a talented actor, ridiculously hot, a great athlete, and a self-proclaimed crazy person. He loved his friends, basketball, his mama and his country. And unfortunately there were the usual rumors of girlfriends, so Gong Jun knew he played for the wrong team. Still, it was nice to know he would have someone gorgeous to look at for four months...and he looked like a lot of fun, which could be crucial cooped up on set for the long, hot summer.
Things started off slow in Hengdian. The first two weeks were stunt training, and it took all he had not to fall over with every move. He’d acted in costume dramas before, but this was his first time in Wuxia and his first time in a harness. He gave it his all and focused as best he could. He didn’t see much of his costar the first couple of days — Zhang-laoshi seemed surprisingly aloof, and took to the training so well that Gong Jun was a little nervous to be so inept at spins and flips near him. So he settled instead into an easy rhythm with Sun Xilun, the young actor who would be playing Zheng Chengling. They both enjoyed League of Legends and could sit together and game. So off hours were spent on LOL and soaking his aching muscles. He maybe spoke two words to Zhang Zhehan, but he was at least nice to look at.
Well, Ma-jie was having none of that. Concerned her two costars weren’t developing any chemistry, she put her foot down during the first table read and had them sit together and exchange WeChat info. She then took the core cast out to dinner and had the two men sit together. Zhang Zhehan was polite, serving his junior food and chatting. But he was used to wine, and they were drinking beer. Strong beer. And it turned out Zhang Zhehan was a lightweight. After just a few rounds, could barely sit up straight. Ma-jie asked Gong Jun to bring his senior home.
That’s when things took a bit of a turn.
Zhehan started to get a bit handsy.
“You’re unnecessarily tall, Gong-laoshi. Why are you so tall?” How was he supposed to respond to that?
“You’re ridiculously handsome, Gong-laoshi. Why are you so handsome?” Again, not really something he could respond to.
“You’ve got a lovely, deep voice, Gong-laoshi. Why aren't you saying anything? Speak!” Absent barking, there didn’t seem to be an appropriate reply, so he remained silent.
This continued for the entire fifteen-minute walk back to Zhang Zhehan’s hotel room. Then things got worse.
“Where’s your keycard, Zhang-laoshi?”; “In my back pocket, Gong-laoshi”
Gong Jun had a bad feeling as he tentatively reached into Zhehan’s back pocket, which proved out when Zhehan grabbed his hand and cupped his ass with it. When Gong Jun turned and looked at him quizzically, Zhehan tipped his face up and kissed him. And not a chaste kiss. And Gong Jun was only so strong a man, so it took him a second or two to pull away.
“You’re too drunk, and I’m too much of a gentleman for this, Zhang-laoshi...” and he retrieved the keycard from Zhang-laoshi’s pocket, got him inside, and deposited him on the hotel bed. Leaving him face down, shoes still on, clothes still on, Gong Jun backed out of the room. After he left, he flattened himself against the door frame and took a breath for the first time in what felt like hours. Oh my god, that happened. If Ma-jie thought things had been awkward between them during stunt training, she was not going to be pleased when shooting started the next day. Or would his senior even remember this tomorrow.
*** ***
He did not remember.
“I understand you got me home last night, Gong-laoshi. I apologize if I caused you any trouble. I hope we can work together well.” And they started on hair and make-up.
*****
(Our boys arrive in Hengdian)
