This was a kiss in the play.

She was pinned against the corner of the sofa, passively receiving the kiss.

Her neck was arched, her back tense, her shoulder blades pressing against the hard parts of the sofa. The scented candle in the room had gone out at some point, depriving her of sight, making her other senses even clearer.

His hot breath, his slightly cool lips, his somewhat hard teeth, and the force with which he tightly gripped her wrist.

It was a little painful.

A few seconds later, the man released her, but the feeling of the kiss remained profound.

He raised his hand and turned on the table lamp, his voice hoarse, “Where are you going?”

She parted her lips, as if wanting to answer, but after a long while, she turned her eyes away again.

“Is that any of your business? If I remember correctly, we’ve already broken up.”

He looked down at her, not speaking, but the strength with which he held her hand had already lessened.

After a long silence, the man finally whispered, “Don’t make trouble, okay?”

“I’m not making trouble,” she asked, “did you resign?”

This time, his answer was quick.

“Narcotics police only retire, they don’t resign.”

She gritted her teeth and moved, wanting to push him away, but unexpectedly heard him groan. Pulling open his shirt, she saw new wounds on his back.

“You only had time to come back to me because you had injury leave, right?”

She bit her lower lip, a mixture of emotions welling up in her chest. Just as she was about to continue complaining, a glimpse of something in his pocket caught her eye—a small sachet.

She remembered mentioning it casually once before, only complaining that the mountain road was too difficult to walk, so she never got around to buying one. Later, she saw someone post a picture on their social media saying there was only one left, so she hurriedly went up the mountain in the rain, winding her way to the temple.

But she was told that this batch of sachets was sold out, and if she wanted to buy one, she would have to wait until next year.

She hadn’t expected that the last one had been bought by him.

Her tone softened involuntarily, “When did you buy it?”

“Asked a friend to buy it, didn’t you want one?” He took it off and placed it in her palm.

She liked the sense of ritual that fragrance brought. Bringing the sachet close to her nose, she smelled a faint scent of grass, flowers, and fruit, a unique and pleasant aroma.

She squeezed the sachet but felt something was wrong. She opened the bag and took out a ring from inside.

He whispered, a barely perceptible nervousness in his tone, “Didn’t know your size, so I could only buy based on instinct.”

She stared at the ring for a long time, past scenes flashing frame by frame in her mind. Finally, she couldn’t help herself and leaned helplessly on his shoulder. “Why did you have to choose this profession...”

The two had been in love since their student days, going smoothly for ten years. The turning point was the day he chose to become a narcotics police officer.

It was too dangerous. Just hearing those four words, she knew how dangerous it would be.

That day, she had read a lot about the lives of narcotics police officers and then couldn’t sleep all night.

They faced desperate criminals, people who would risk their lives for money. Every mission was a matter of life and death, and they could be held at gunpoint by criminals at any moment.

How could she not worry?

She admitted she was selfish, only hoping that her lover would live this life peacefully, even in the most ordinary way.

The silent signal of reconciliation between the embracing lovers was wordless. He had injury leave and had also received merit for arresting many criminals, freeing up some time to spend with her. The two had a very warm week in her small apartment.

That night was supposed to be when he proposed, but it was abruptly interrupted by a rapid ringing.

His best comrade-in-arms had died in the line of duty, killed by a criminal who detonated a grenade. His life was forever frozen in that winter.

Upon learning that the drug dealer was on the run, without any hesitation, he volunteered again to take on the task.

After changing his clothes, the lover behind him was already in tears.

“I heard, they still have guns, right? Armed drug trafficking, how dangerous that must be...”

He walked over, kissing away the tears on her cheeks one by one. She sobbed, touching his lips, as if offering the most fervent, last kiss.

They kissed for a long time, until the timer rang for the third time. Amidst the entanglement of their lips and tongues, she still tightly held onto his shirt.

If there was an apocalypse, how much she wished time would forever stop at this moment, her heart would no longer beat nervously for her lover’s life and death. They would be vulgar and lucky, hiding in a corner where no one could find them, sharing a kiss long enough to destroy the world.

However, time would still flow.

He wiped the corner of her eyes and whispered, “I’ll marry you when I come back.”

Her eyes red, she nodded with pauses, “Okay... I’ll marry you when you come back.”

He opened the door and walked out again.

—And this time, he couldn’t come back.

As if a premonition had come true, after 72 sleepless hours, she received news of his death.

“Brother was...” his comrade-in-arms choked out, “Brother fell off a cliff and sacrificed himself.”

“They were driving a car, and the car was full of drugs. Because they couldn’t stop it, Brother smashed the window and climbed in himself. You know they’re all desperate people... they just... drove the car straight off the cliff.”

If I’m in danger, you can’t think of living either—this was the consistent thinking of desperate criminals.

As if her soul had returned to its place in that instant, or as if she had floated up at this moment, a buzzing began in her ears, as if everything was unreal, still like a dream.

“The person... have they found the person? If they haven’t found them...” Could he still be alive?

Weren’t there always miracles? Wouldn’t even God have pity?

The person on the other end suppressed their grief and said, “We found him, but he couldn’t be saved.”

In an instant, her body lost strength, and the phone fell to the floor. She couldn’t stand steady and slid down the edge of the bed to the side, unable even to find a clean place to sit down.

It felt like her internal organs were churning together, dizziness and nausea overwhelming her, as if someone had violently ripped open her chest. She never knew that a heart could hurt so much.

She half-crouched, arching her body, hitting her heart again and again, as if trying to alleviate the pain in this way. However, the feeling of suffocation still enveloped her relentlessly, as if trying to swallow her.

She fainted and woke up in the hospital.

The moment she saw the white curtains, even a flicker of joy flashed through her mind. She thought she had a nightmare, and now that she was awake, the world would return to normal.

Until his comrade-in-arms walked into the ward.

That moment felt like a bucket of ice water being poured down on her. Her heart suddenly stopped, and cold sweat covered her entire body.

They finally said the sentence she feared the most.

“Sister-in-law, please accept our condolences.”

Accept our condolences, accept our condolences.

Under what circumstances would one need to accept condolences? If she didn’t want to accept condolences at this moment, would he be able to come back to life?

More and more absurd thoughts filled her brain. Her head ached violently, but her eyes were dry and couldn’t shed a single tear.

It turned out that in the face of unbelievable extreme pain, a person would have no tears.

The comrade-in-arms opened a small box and placed it in front of her.

“This was... found in brother’s pocket.”

Inside the small black velvet box, two small items were neatly arranged.

On the left was a blood-stained military medal, and on the right was a ring.

Just like what he had tried his best to protect throughout his life, one was the country, and the other was her.

She covered her face and finally couldn’t control her sobs. Tears fell one after another, overflowing from her fingertips and heavily dropping onto the quilt.

“Didn’t he say...” she choked, “he would definitely come back safely and then marry me?”

After a long time, she pulled out the IV tube from her hand, stopped the bleeding, uncovered it, patiently wiped the wound clean, and then spread out her palm.

Like any normal dusk, she had no wounds, and neither did he.

She took off the ring and slowly, slowly pushed it to the base of her ring finger.

“Even if you didn’t ask me if you could,” she repeated in a trembling voice, “I would still tell you, I do.”

...

She seemed to finally understand this profession on the day her lover sacrificed himself.

In China, an average of one narcotics police officer sacrifices their life every day. This is the most dangerous profession in peacetime. The average lifespan of a narcotics police officer is 41 years. They have no tombstone after death and cannot appear openly in the news during their lifetime. The only time they appear publicly is for mourning.

In peaceful times, there are always heroes carrying the weight forward.

This was the first time. The director had already called “Cut,” but Yan Man couldn’t get out of character for a long time.

The set was filled with quiet sobbing. She leaned against the hospital bed, as if all her strength had been drained.

She had no thoughts, her brain was blank, but her eyes felt warm again and again, tears flowing down uncontrollably.

When the filming wrapped up, Yan Man got into the car, still without saying a word.

“Are you okay?” Simon handed her a glass of water. “Have some water.”

She shook her head, leaned against the window, looked at the busy and warm lights of the city, and shed tears again.

The next day at noon, Simon pulled Zhou Xuan onto the balcony.

“Did she sleep last night?”

“No,” Zhou Xuan shook her head. “Didn’t sleep all night. Finally lay down for a while, but as soon as she opened her eyes, she was crying again...”

Everyone knew that this was not a fictional story. It was real and distant, so distant that it was almost far from everyone’s world, yet it was happening every day.

Every day in the task force, narcotics police officers had to cut off contact due to cases, and their families asked again and again, “Are they still alive?”

Alive? Such simple three words, yet they were their only wish for their loved ones.

On the next balcony, Shi Nanhong was originally chatting with Ye Lin. Seeing a familiar face, before he could even ask, the two anxiously disappeared from the balcony.

As if thinking about how to make her feel better quickly.

Shi Nanhong turned his head. “Is Yan Man living next door to you?”

Ye Lin stared in the direction next door, his brow furrowed, as if thinking about something. After a long while, he came back to his senses and replied in a low voice.

“Yeah, she’s been living here before.”

“Really didn’t expect it,” Shi Nanhong sighed. “Judging by what they said, this little girl hasn’t gotten out of character yet? Didn’t you guys finish filming several hours ago? Why is the team still worried?”

“Suddenly reminds me, you were like this when you first entered the industry too. Because you were too talented, naturally born to be an actor, and your empathy was stronger than others. Ordinary emotions were felt doubly, and painful ones even more so...”

Back then, the young Ye Lin still had a cold and immature naivety. Although he was more mature than his peers, he was still not as in control as he was now. At that time, a war scene had also left the young man unable to recover for a day and a night.

In the end, it was Shi Nanhong who helped the young man find the root of the problem and untied this knot.

Precisely because of this, after hearing that Ye Lin had finished filming this scene, Shi Nanhong had chosen a time to come over and check, worried that his condition would also be affected.

“But you’re already a mature actor now, none of my worries exist,” Shi Nanhong lowered his head and took a sip of tea. “Although I know I should always come and take a look to feel at ease.”

While speaking, Shi Nanhong returned to the topic of Yan Man. “That little girl is also too talented, she gets into the characters too deeply, especially for such deeply moving scenes. If she doesn’t release the emotions completely, they will keep accumulating.”

This was her advantage: strong belief in performance, easy to empathize, natural acting style.

But at the same time, fairly, when encountering such impactful scenes, it was even harder to get out of them.

Shi Nanhong had no doubt that she had already become the character in the play and had forgotten who she was.

In the end, Shi Nanhong sighed, “Seeing her always makes me think of you.”

The next evening, Simon said the weather was nice and insisted on taking Yan Man out for a walk.

Zhou Xuan was drying her clothes and shouted from the balcony, “Come back later! There are no schedules these two days anyway! It’s always good to take a walk, and I can tidy up the room.”

“Keep your voice down,” Simon said, “the whole building will know she’s going out.”

Yan Man put on her mask, and Simon had already opened the door, standing at the entrance waiting for her to change her shoes.

When she stood up again, the door lock next door also clicked.

She didn’t turn her head. As she walked forward along the carpet, she suddenly heard someone call out.

“Yan Man.”

She took two more steps before stopping, as if only then realizing she was being called.

Yan Man turned around.

Ye Lin stood at the corner of the corridor light, his facial expressions obscured by shadows, making it hard to discern his emotions.

He said, “Come with me.”

...

After talking with Simon, Ye Lin took her onto the car.

In a daze, she sat in the passenger seat without asking anything. It wasn’t until half an hour into the drive that she came to her senses.

“Where are we going?”

“To see someone,” he said.

The car drove into a residential area, circled a few times, and stopped at the unit building according to the navigation.

Ye Lin pressed the door access, and they went up to the 20th floor.

When the door opened, Yan Man was stunned.

It was Qiu Fei.

The wife of the police officer from the anti-drug news story, and also the prototype for the female lead of their short film.

Although the families of anti-drug officers were not publicly disclosed, as the performer of this short film, Yan Man had received videos from Qiu Fei to better portray her role.

At the moment she saw her, the sunlight reflecting off the buildings made Yan Man’s tears well up again.

...

Ye Lin closed the door, leaving the space to them.

Yan Man talked with Qiu Fei for a long time, until it grew dark outside. Qiu Fei wiped away the tears on her jawline, her voice filled with relief.

“At the beginning, I really was like you... crying every day, unable to accept it. Tears would fall unpredictably at any time.”

“When I saw the mall, I thought about the movie he wanted to watch but never got the chance to. When walking on the street, I thought about how he said he would accompany me shopping but never did.”

“Even sitting in the car, seeing the beautiful night scenery outside, thinking he would never see it again, I couldn’t stop sobbing.”

“But,” Qiu Fei said, “One night, I sat alone on the balcony with a fleeting thought of ending it all. In that moment, I suddenly thought of him.”

“I realized that some people are born to be stars, while I should stand on the ground he protected, gently looking up at him.”

“He allowed me to cry for him, but he wouldn’t want me to remain so despondent. We met through fragrance, so I opened a small scent shop to continue our story.”

“I used to think, after he left, having endured so much pain, if I were happy, would that be unfair to him?”

“Later, I realized that living happily and well is the most important thing they exchanged their lives for.”

...

Yan Man’s tears gradually subsided.

She nodded, feeling as though she had walked through the emotions with Qiu Fei and now found peace.

Qiu Fei glanced out the window: “It’s late. Are you hungry? Shall I get something for you?”

That reminded Yan Man of something. She stood up and said, “No need, I’ll eat when I get back. Thank you so much today.”

“You’re welcome,” Qiu Fei said, “I watched your short film. It was very well done and has great social and educational significance. I’m grateful to you and Teacher Ye for acting in it.”

“Let more people remember him and understand that drug use and trafficking can never be forgiven.”

Yan Man walked out of the unit door and put on her mask.

It was late, and there weren’t many people in the neighborhood. The streetlights were on, with insects swirling around.

She wondered if Ye Lin had already left.

Probably, right?

Thinking so, she took out her phone, planning to call a ride back.

Just as she finished ordering, a car ahead flashed its hazard lights and stopped by the roadside.

Yan Man opened the car door and got in.

Ye Lin looked at the rearview mirror, turned his head, and started reversing.

Yan Man blurted out, “I just called DiDi.”

After a moment’s thought, she guessed, “Could it be...”

Ye Lin turned to look at her: ?

“You’re the DiDi driver I called?”

Ye Lin: “...”

There were few cars around, and no one had responded for a while. Yan Man canceled the order and put her phone aside.

Ye Lin: “Feeling better?”

“Much better,” she said.

Perhaps this was the meaning of performance—allowing someone who had almost always lived in a safe zone since childhood to experience more lives and stories.

Yan Man rubbed her stomach: “I’m actually a bit hungry.”

What to eat?

Ye Lin glanced at her from the front mirror, “Didn’t you go on a diet for the role a few days ago?”

Knowing he was referring to how deeply she had immersed herself in the role these past two days, barely eating, Yan Man tilted her head and suggested, “How about eating fish tonight? You should be good at picking bones.”

“...”

It seemed everything was fine since they could even banter.

Coincidentally passing by a grilled fish restaurant, they parked the car and headed inside to a private room.

Yan Man adjusted her hat and mask in the rearview mirror. It was a classic-style grilled fish restaurant with costumes and props available for photoshoots, which customers returned before leaving.

Yan Man casually picked up an umbrella and handed it to him.

It was a habitual gesture; only after handing it over did she realize she wasn’t with Simon and the others.

Facing the man’s puzzled gaze, she couldn’t honestly say she was just looking for something to do. After a moment’s thought, Yan Man found a reasonable excuse: “Use it to cover up, so others won’t recognize you.”

The man wore a black hoodie, the hood pulled over his head, and a solid black mask. He glanced at the bright red oil-paper umbrella in her hand and nodded faintly.

“If I open this umbrella for more than three seconds, both of us will be on tomorrow’s headlines.”

Yan Man: “Be confident. We’ll be on tonight’s headlines.”

“...”

By the time the grilled fish arrived, Yan Man had already eaten one. Looking up, she saw he was still picking out the bones.

“Not the way you’re doing it,” Yan Man took his plate, “Like this—pinch the bone and pull it upwards, and it comes off.”

Placing the fish in front of him, she said, “Consider it thanks for bringing me here tonight.”

Swiftly, she deboned another fish.

“This one, thank you, DiDi driver.”

Ye Lin: “...”

After finishing the grilled fish, they returned to the hotel.

Yan Man let Simon confirm a paparazzi-free route before putting on her hat and getting out of the car.

Standing in front of the car, she hesitated to speak.

Before she could figure out how to start, Ye Lin had already parted his lips.

As he spoke, his Adam’s apple moved, casting a dark shadow in the night.

He seemed to have something to say, but after much deliberation, he finally uttered four words: “Good luck in the competition.”

Yan Man understood.

This tone was familiar to her—it reminded her of her high school principal during the college entrance exam.

She hummed in response: “Being a mentor is tough. If the team members’ conditions aren’t good, you have to help mediate their emotions.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll rest well these two days and won’t affect the competition. I’ll work hard to get a good ranking for you.”

Ye Lin paused.

Actually, these past few days, he had been thinking about why his heart felt empty the moment she untied their fate.

Just like now, arranging everything beforehand, knowing she was going out, taking her to see Qiu Fei, and resolving her emotional knots—what was the reason?

Was it just to make her compete well?

Under the cover of night, the streets were bustling with traffic but eerily silent.

Yan Man’s figure disappeared at the hotel entrance. After watching for a long time, he finally withdrew his gaze.

The next day, the short film about the anti-drug police officer aired, titled A Life Devoted .

Yan Man wasn’t present for this live stream. After discussing with Simon and the production team, they deliberately moved the live stream earlier without telling her.

After all, she had just had a good night’s sleep last night, and everyone was worried that watching it again might affect her emotions once more.

At this moment, Yan Man was still asleep, unaware, while the live stream had already begun noisily.

Ye Lin wore a white shirt, his hair casually styled by the stylist. Though it was a simple arrangement, he still looked incredibly handsome and eye-catching.

With the live stream moved earlier, everyone’s preparations were somewhat rushed.

The barrage quickly noticed:

[Why does top-tier Ye look so disheveled without his wife?]

[Without his wife, it’s like he lost the mainstay of his life (not really).]

[Ye Lin: First day without seeing his wife, missing her.]

[What if they saw each other in bed last night?]

[?]

Soon, the live stream room fell silent.

This session had the least barrage comments among the three broadcasts, but the number of likes was the highest.

It could be interpreted as everyone crying too much to send barrage comments, merely tapping the screen furiously while choking on sobs as a form of release.

Almost immediately after the live stream ended, the topic trended at No. 1 on Weibo.

The production team put a lot of effort into it. At the end of the film, they attached photos of the fallen anti-drug officers that had been publicly disclosed, along with their ages and achievements.

Everyone cried uncontrollably:

[Started crying when the male lead prepared for the mission. Stopped briefly, but then the real-life photos appeared, and I lost it again...]

[For many, this is a story, but for them and their families, it’s a real lifetime.]

[It’s hard to imagine how brave one must be to choose this profession. Deep respect.]

[After watching, I’m even more determined: Drug use and trafficking are unforgivable. No tolerance for celebrities involved in drugs returning to the industry!]

[How dare they return? The stability they sacrificed their lives for is being trampled by you?]

[Why don’t they have tombstones?]

[Not only do they lack tombstones, but they can’t even be mourned. To protect their families, they fear retaliation during memorial services.]

[I’m f***ing sobbing my eyes out.]

[Covert yet great.]

[No wonder this show has been a hit for three seasons. It has such a strong sense of social responsibility. Especially the ending credits—they truly remember them in another way. Full of sincerity.]

[Not only that, but the female lead Yan Man didn’t participate in the live stream because she collapsed emotionally after filming. She empathized deeply with the character and cried for two days straight. To avoid affecting her emotions again, the production team rescheduled the live stream.]

[Oh my god…]

[She’s truly remarkable. Her method-acting style makes performing in such roles akin to self-torture—experiencing twice the heart-wrenching collapse of the character. And she insisted on taking this role. In previous interviews, she mentioned hoping more people would remember the anti-drug officers, believing their sacrifices wouldn’t be in vain.]

[T-T]

[Entertainment needs more actors who take their craft seriously—with more responsibility and sense of mission.]

[The entire crew, from top to bottom, was incredibly professional. The director flew ten hours back from abroad to shoot this. Ye Lin acted for free, privately interviewing all the friends of the real-life prototype and pulling two all-nighters. Qi Geng had only a few lines but canceled three events, staying from start to finish.]

[Thank you to all the participants. Anti-drug police officers are truly great.]

The discussion about anti-drug officers reached new heights, even surpassing previous trending topics. This was the result all the creators hoped for.

As for the CP fans, they were initially immersed in the drama, overwhelmed by its impact, unable to recover for a long time.

By midnight, the symptoms eased, and the restless souls finally awakened. Some began dissecting the pair’s scenes together.

At 12:25 AM, a discussion post about the kissing scene—

Climbed to the top of the super topic.

[Captured some suspiciously extended moments. Fellows, do you think I did the right thing?]