Marrying the Male Lead’s Disabled Uncle – Chapter 32

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today!” Director Jin announced, walking over with a glimmer in his eyes. Looking at Pei Lang was like discovering a rare treasure. “Kid, keep acting well. Once this drama airs, everyone will see how brilliant you are.”

This was the highest praise possible. Director Jin had never spoken so highly of anyone before.

Zhong Yixiao, watching from the sidelines, was visibly surprised. As Director Jin and Pei Lang chatted, Zhong Yixiao took the opportunity to head off to remove her makeup and change out of costume.

Director Jin continued to heap praises on Pei Lang, speaking so highly of his performance that it left Pei Lang a little embarrassed.

In his mind, he was just doing his job—taking the paycheck and delivering a solid performance. That was what an actor was supposed to do.

With Pei Lang’s unexpected arrival saving the production valuable time, the long-starved crew members were finally able to call it a night and head off to eat.

After chatting with Director Jin for a bit longer, Pei Lang went to change back into his own clothes.

“Brother Lang, you were amazing!” Lu Lu was practically beaming with excitement. “Did you know? The same people who ignored you earlier are now singing your praises behind your back?” His eyes sparkled as he looked at Pei Lang with pure admiration.

Pei Lang, however, remained unfazed. “Where are we going for dinner?”

Instead of waiting for the stylist to remove his headgear, he casually took it off himself and changed back into his usual attire. Clearly, he had other priorities.

Lu Lu fell silent for a moment. “…Brother Lang, didn’t we just have a meal? Shouldn’t you be watching your diet? The actors I’ve worked with before don’t even eat dinner. And if they do, it’s just a plate of salad.”

Pei Lang, unfazed, replied, “I just filmed an intense action scene. I’m starving from all the movement.”

Before coming here, he had checked out the local food scene and made a list of must-visit restaurants near the film studio. However, since it was already late and he had an early call time the next morning, he didn’t want to go too far.

“There’s a crayfish restaurant about five kilometers from here. Wanna go try it?”

Lu Lu hesitated before sighing in resignation. “Fine.”

It seemed impossible to get Pei Lang to care about dieting. Though he had a great physique and wasn’t gaining weight, actors were still expected to maintain a strict regimen. Eating like this just wasn’t the industry norm.

“I’ll go get the car.”

“Go ahead.”

While waiting, Pei Lang stood outside and pulled out his phone, opening a group-buying app to place an order.

At that moment, Zhong Yixiao walked out and the two of them happened to cross paths.

Seeing Pei Lang’s phone screen, Zhong Yixiao raised an eyebrow. “Going out to eat?”

Pei Lang smiled. “Yeah, made plans with my assistant.”

They stood there facing each other—calm, open, and unhurried.

The atmosphere was oddly harmonious, yet tinged with an indescribable undercurrent.

After a brief moment, Zhong Yixiao extended his hand. “Zhong Yixiao.”

Pei Lang shook it. “Pei Lang.”

“Looking forward to working together tomorrow.”

“Likewise.”

Just then, Lu Lu pulled up in the car. Pei Lang bid farewell and got in, heading off to dinner.

Zhong Yixiao stood there watching the car disappear into the distance, momentarily lost in thought.

Soon after, Liu Ran also came out. Since neither of them had dinner plans, they walked back to the hotel together, casually chatting along the way.

At the crayfish restaurant, Pei Lang and Lu Lu ordered a feast and started digging in.

Lu Lu, while capable, had a slightly naive side, which Pei Lang found amusing. He enjoyed teasing him, watching him struggle to argue back, and eventually give in.

“Brother Lang, I saw you talking to Zhong Yixiao earlier. What were you two discussing?”

“Just chatting. Why?” Pei Lang asked, barely looking up as he skillfully peeled another shrimp.

Lu Lu hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Nothing much… I just heard that he likes men.”

Pei Lang paused.

Lu Lu continued earnestly, “Brother Lang, you’re really handsome, so you should be careful. Zhong Yixiao has a massive fan base. If any rumors spread, his fans will definitely come after you.”

Pei Lang: “…”

In this world, same-sex relationships were perfectly normal, and same-sex marriage was legal.

So what if Zhong Yixiao liked men? There was nothing unusual about it.

The only abnormal thing would be if he got involved.

“Relax, I know where to draw the line.” Pei Lang finally spoke, his tone casual. “Your dear brother here just wants to act and marry his future wife. If netizens want to overanalyze normal social interactions, that’s their problem. I can’t possibly give up my entire personal life just to please them.”

Lu Lu sighed, knowing he couldn’t win an argument with Pei Lang.

“I just don’t want to see you get attacked online,” he muttered. “Seeing all those insults thrown at you before, it made me really upset.”

Pei Lang smiled, peeling a shrimp and placing it in Lu Lu’s bowl as a gesture of reassurance.

“Don’t worry. I’ve survived worse slander and abuse before. What else could possibly bring me down?”

Lu Lu still looked troubled, but Pei Lang chuckled and added, “No matter what happens online, I’ll still have you—my little angel.”

Lu Lu instantly turned red, struggling to come up with a rebuttal. “…Brother Lang, if anything happens, let me know, okay? If I can’t help, Sister You definitely can. Just don’t keep everything to yourself.”

“I know, I know.” Pei Lang waved him off with a laugh.

By the time they got back to the hotel, it was already late. After showering, they went straight to bed.

The production team had arranged for each lead actor and their assistant to share a hotel suite with two bedrooms. Director Jin’s team was highly professional—no spoilers leaked, no paparazzi following the shoot, and none of the actors dared to stir up trouble. It was a solid crew to work with.

Across the hall from Pei Lang’s room was Zhong Yixiao’s suite, and diagonally opposite was Liu Ran’s.

The next morning, the three of them happened to open their doors at the same time.

For a brief moment, they stood there, looking at each other.

Since they weren’t close, no one spoke. But there was an unspoken understanding in their gazes.

After exchanging simple nods, they quietly walked to the filming site together.

That day’s filming schedule had changed.

Pei Lang would be shooting scenes with supporting characters in the morning, while the main leads, Zhong Yixiao and Liu Ran, had their scenes together in the afternoon.

Last night’s battle sequence had ended with Fu Zhixing and Qin Junru leaping off a cliff.

At the bottom was a deep pool of water, which had miraculously saved their lives.

After crawling out of the water, they took shelter in a cave and waited for dawn.

But Fu Zhixing was gravely injured. The Four Guardians of the Demon Cult had coated their weapons with poison, and after an entire night, the venom had sapped half his martial strength, leaving him in unbearable agony.

Qin Junru refused to leave his side. She carried him across mountains and rivers until they finally arrived at Linxi Inn.

The inn’s proprietress was skilled in medicine, but the Demon Cult’s poisons were too complex for her to counteract.

She told them about a legendary physician who resided in Fengzhu—a healer capable of curing any poison, treating any illness, and even mending shattered bones.

Their only hope lay in seeking out this miracle doctor.

The miracle doctor’s residence was deep within a lush green bamboo forest, shrouded in mystery. Even the most skilled martial artists would be unable to find him unless they were fated to do so.

Determined to give Fu Zhixing a fighting chance, Qin Junru led their group to Fengzhuju.

The so-called miracle doctor of Fengzhuju was none other than Wen Yan, the second male lead. When the female lead arrived with the male lead seeking treatment, Wen Yan fell for her at first sight. He detoxified Fu Zhixing and allowed him to stay and recover before they continued their journey.

That afternoon, they were set to film the pivotal first meeting of these three characters.

Since all three of them had scenes together, the director called for a discussion and rehearsal.

Pei Lang sat to the side, casually munching on a bag of potato chips as he watched Zhong Yixiao and Liu Ran run through their lines.

Yes, it was supposed to be a scene involving all three of them. But because Liu Ran disliked Pei Lang, she deliberately excluded him.

Zhong Yixiao had initially tried to include Pei Lang, but Liu Ran kept pulling him back into the two-person dynamic, monopolizing his attention.

Pei Lang, however, didn’t seem the least bit bothered. His role was to support the male and female leads, after all. So instead of forcing his way in, he simply leaned back, snacked on his chips, and enjoyed the free show.

His relaxed and indifferent attitude only frustrated Liu Ran further. She had intended to provoke him, but his utter lack of reaction left her stewing in her own irritation. On top of that, she was growing weary of repeating the scene over and over with Zhong Yixiao. But since he was an award-winning actor, she didn’t dare to show her impatience.

“Teacher Zhong, let’s take a break,” she suggested.

“Mm.”

Their assistants rushed forward to offer them water. Meanwhile, Pei Lang was ignored entirely.

Despite Director Jin’s appreciation for Pei Lang’s talent, many in the crew remained unconvinced. In their eyes, Pei Lang was nothing more than a controversial figure. Some even suspected that he had some improper relationship with the director, which was the only reason he was getting a second chance.

Pei Lang, of course, was well aware of the gossip.

But he didn’t care. It was within his expectations.

There was no point in stressing over things he couldn’t change. That would only be a waste of energy.

“Brother Lang, why don’t we go rest in the car for a bit before you change into your costume?” Lu Lu suggested, unable to stand the way Pei Lang was being treated.

“Alright.”

Just as Pei Lang took a couple of steps, a woman suddenly approached him with a sharp gaze.

“Are you Pei Lang?” she asked, her tone blunt.

Pei Lang paused, then responded politely, “Yes. And you are?”

“I’m a teacher at the International Music Academy,” the woman replied impatiently. “Director Jin asked me to teach you some piano-playing movements for your scene later.”

Though Pei Lang looked decent enough at first glance, the woman clearly held him in disdain. She was in her forties, thin, and had a sharp, unpleasant tone that made her seem mean-spirited.

As they spoke, the teacher’s assistant wheeled in the guqin for the upcoming scene, deliberately placing it right in front of the three leads. The setup was obvious—they were trying to embarrass Pei Lang.

Pei Lang, however, merely raised an eyebrow and smiled.

“Thank you, Teacher. I appreciate your hard work.”

The woman crossed her arms. “Director Jin knows that you don’t know how to play the guqin, but your character needs to. So, he asked me to be your stand-in. You don’t actually have to play it, but you do need to at least look like you’re playing during the long shots. Otherwise, it’ll ruin the immersion.”

She made it clear that she found it humiliating to be a stand-in for an actor like Pei Lang.

“I understand. Thank you, Teacher.”

Pei Lang remained polite, despite Liu Ran watching with a mocking smile and the teacher’s tone growing increasingly harsh.

Tsk—what is he pretending for? Liu Ran scoffed internally, eager to see Pei Lang humiliated.

Zhong Yixiao, on the other hand, silently observed Pei Lang.

Many would assume he was just pretending to be calm under pressure.

But Zhong Yixiao could tell—he wasn’t pretending at all.

Pei Lang’s personality was nothing like the rumors suggested.

Interesting.

Just then, Pei Lang spoke.

“Teacher, I can do it myself.”

In the upcoming scene, the female lead and male lead would walk through the bamboo forest and stumble upon Wen Yan playing the guqin. Captivated by the beautiful melody, the female lead would be mesmerized—leading to Wen Yan’s instant infatuation with her.

The guqin performance was critical—it had to be convincing enough to impress both the heroine and the audience.

What nobody knew was that Pei Lang actually could play the guqin.

He had been prepared all along.

But since everyone assumed he was incompetent, Director Jin had brought in a teacher to instruct him on the movements and serve as his stand-in.

The moment Pei Lang said he could do it himself, the teacher’s expression darkened.

“Oh, you can do it?” she scoffed. “Everyone knows what kind of person you are. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re trying to do. You’re just making excuses because you don’t want to learn! You’re lazy!”

The woman’s voice dripped with disdain. “What, do you think I want to teach you? If Director Jin hadn’t personally invited me, do you think I’d waste my time substituting for someone like you?”

Pei Lang: “Uh—”

He was momentarily speechless.

But before he could respond, the teacher kept going.

“You don’t want to learn, fine! It’s not like you have to actually play the instrument, right? Doesn’t matter to you how the scene turns out. Whatever! I won’t waste my time anymore. If Director Jin asks, I’ll just tell him the truth.”

Her tone turned sharp as she sneered, “You and Director Jin have a special relationship, don’t you? No wonder you don’t care about the details. Just sit there and pretend to play—who cares? The audience must be idiots in your eyes.”

With that, she stormed off in a huff.

Pei Lang blinked, then turned to Lu Lu with an innocent expression.

“…Did I say any of that just now?”

Lu Lu gave him a pitying look before turning toward the door.

“No, Brother Lang. She said it all by herself.”

Pei Lang suddenly burst out laughing.

“As expected of a teacher! Her imagination and comprehension skills are top-notch.” He turned to Lu Lu, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Lu Lu, you’re so naive. You should start learning from me.”

“I’m not naive!” Lu Lu pouted.

Pei Lang took the whole incident in stride, showing not the slightest hint of offense. Lu Lu, seeing that Pei Lang was unfazed, didn’t feel upset either. Instead, she laughed along with him, their laughter growing louder until tears welled in their eyes.

Their bright, carefree smiles were like daggers to Liu Ran.

She clenched her fists, her jealousy flaring.

How dare they laugh so freely?

At that moment, all she wanted was to wipe those smiles off their faces and grind them into the dirt.