Gu Xingzhou is a young master from the capital’s elite circles. Growing up, he always got whatever he wanted. He pushed his luck with extreme sports until he broke his leg, and his family shipped him back to the country to “recuperate.”
At his sister-in-law’s suggestion, he casually agrees to star in a “low-budget script.” The catch? It’s a dual-male-lead drama, and the intimate scenes are shockingly explicit.
He’s got a temper, but he keeps his word, so he grits his teeth and joins the cast. He never expects to fall for Xie Ci at first sight.
Xie Ci has spent eight years struggling to make it as a bit-part actor. He has played corpses and nameless extras, endured malicious targeting, and bears old scars.
He is unfailingly polite in public, and no one is allowed inside his personal space.
The director lends a helping hand: the two men are assigned to share an apartment with only one bedroom.
As they go from strangers to familiar faces, sharing a bed and weathering one storm after another, Gu Xingzhou pushes his way into Xie Ci’s life while Xie Ci keeps yielding ground.
“You can drop the formalities with me, but don’t think you can run away.”
“...All right, Mr. Gu.”
Two formidable men face off: the reserved bottom and the dominant top. Onscreen and off, he is the only one for me.
