I Became Famous After I Became a Parrot in the Movie Star's House - Chapter 127

His parrot suddenly ran away.

Li Pu touches the empty bed beside him, feeling particularly out of place. He still can’t sleep well.

In the other room, Bai Gaoxing is the same. He has gotten used to having someone beside him, and now he can only toss and turn with the blanket, unable to fall asleep.

After midnight, both of them post a “Happy New Year” message on Weibo.

Just moments ago, they were sitting close together, discussing what picture to use. Now, in the blink of an eye, they are each in their own beds.

The sound of firecrackers outside continues into the night and then resumes in the early hours. They both hear it all from start to finish.

The next morning, they wake up to yet another day of insufficient sleep.

But early in the morning, Bai Gaoxing is already diligently sitting in front of the electronic screen in the living room, publishing his third work of the holiday.

Yes, that’s right. He only posted two yesterday, and now he is posting two more today.

Li Pu steps out of the bedroom, and Bai Gaoxing flaps his wings and says, “Good morning!”

Just like before.

“…Good morning.”

Li Pu’s brows relax slightly as he stands there for a long time. He can’t help but think—maybe the boy just finds the bed a little small and prefers sleeping alone.

But he can’t fool himself with that excuse.

Something has been off ever since Dabai took the initiative to switch beds.

After breakfast, it’s time to change the dressing on the wound.

Li Pu lowers his head, watching the boy, who doesn’t look up at him even once as he carefully wraps the bandage. His other hand instinctively clenches slightly.

A sense of unease begins to rise in his heart, or rather… a sense of crisis.

But that feeling doesn’t last long.

The crew has only given them five days off. When the time is up, they board a plane back to Las Vegas.

During those five days, nothing seems to have changed. They still eat together, still chat. Dabai continues his usual habit of posting one or two short videos daily. Other than not sleeping in the same bed anymore, everything seems the same.

No—actually, the change is obvious.

During prep time at the hotel, the white-haired boy flips through his script, reading silently and occasionally asking about parts he doesn’t understand. To outsiders, they still seem close. But Li Pu knows—this is the second time Dabai has distanced himself from him.

The first time was after the kissing scene.

Back then, he hadn’t understood why Bai Gaoxing had suddenly turned cold, just like now—unpredictable. But last time, he had won the boy’s attention back because of his injury.

This time… what can he rely on?

“Li Pu, after we get back, you’ll have to work hard,” Frank says, walking over. Because Blake and Adonis have the most scenes together, some of Adonis’s parts need to be reshot.

“It’s fine.” Li Pu doesn’t really mind the filming; he’s just worried about Dabai.

Noah’s scenes still have one last part left.

Once “Blake” is replaced, the reshoots progress quickly. The new actor, Edel, is handsome, skilled, and, most importantly, has a great personality. He even spins a prop knife 360 degrees without dropping it.

This makes Frank even more emotional. “I really thought Park Jiahui was the right choice at the time. Who would’ve thought he’d turn out like this?”

“Yeah. It’s awful,” Darren agrees. “Now everyone knows about him.”

Frank’s remarks that day are posted on Weibo and various international accounts. It completely ruins Park Jiahui’s reputation in the entertainment industry—his career is as good as finished.

Meanwhile, the new Blake and Adonis work well together, and Li Pu’s injury has nearly healed. He still isn’t as agile as before, but with gloves covering his hands, the wound is no longer visible, and his movements aren’t affected.

“It looks like Bai took good care of you these past few days,” Nitia teases as she walks over.

“What?” Li Pu is momentarily confused.

“Don’t play dumb. Everyone saw how distracted Bai was when you got hurt. He even chased after the doctor, asking how to apply the medicine. Said he’d do it for you himself after you got back.” Nitia nudges him with her elbow and winks. “Are you two living together?”

“…”

Li Pu can’t say “no.”

But he can’t say “yes,” either.

“Oh~” Nitia smirks knowingly.

Li Pu stays silent.

He only knows that Bai Gaoxing’s behavior is too contradictory—making it impossible for him not to care.

Li Pu’s filming schedule still mostly takes place at night.

When he is alone in his room, Bai Gaoxing lies on the hotel bed, tossing and turning, holding onto the blanket.

In the days following the holiday, after making his decision, he calms down significantly and returns to his usual demeanor.

…Or rather, he forces himself to act as if nothing has changed.

Bai Gaoxing suddenly stops clutching his quilt. Li Pu probably hasn’t noticed anything unusual, right?

Even though he was flustered and awkward for a long time after the kissing scene, unsure of how to face Li Pu…

Even though he abruptly asked to sleep separately…

Even though he has been consciously avoiding physical contact with Li Pu since returning to the crew…

“…”

Yeah, these are big problems.

But since he has already thought it through, he can choose to ignore them. Eventually, they will all just become memories.

Bai Gaoxing buries his face in the quilt and lets out a sigh—only to hear the door creak open and the sound of footsteps approaching.

“…Is it too late to pretend to be asleep?”

Before he can decide, a low voice speaks above him, accompanied by the familiar aroma of food.

“Want a midnight snack?”

“…Yes!” Bai Gaoxing immediately turns over and sits up.

At midnight, the two of them sit across from each other at the dining table.

Li Pu watches the boy eat, his gaze lingering longer than intended.

Bai Gaoxing has already noticed the gaze. His hand holding the chopsticks trembles slightly as he looks up with a natural expression. “Is there something on my face?”

He even raises his hand to touch his face.

Li Pu watches Dabai for a long time, opens his mouth as if to say something, but upon seeing the boy’s clear eyes, his words turn into, “…It’s nothing.”

Bai Gaoxing smiles, lowers his head again, and relaxes his grip on the chopsticks.

…

Time passes quickly, and before anyone realizes it, filming for Casino is coming to an end.

Today is the final scene for Adonis and Noah—a life-and-death moment. Once this scene wraps, Noah’s role will officially be complete.

Although Noah’s screen time in the film is relatively short, his character carries some of the most profound emotional weight. Because of that, director Frank has set aside an entire day just for this scene.

“Great! The sun is so bright today.” Frank opens the curtains to let in as much sunlight as possible.

“Must you be so tasteless?” the screenwriter mutters. While the main characters are about to celebrate victory at dawn, Adonis and Noah have to face death.

And all of this is happening in the most beautiful weather, like snow quietly melting away, like a flower gradually withering.

“What do you know?” Frank tidies up the blanket piled at the end of the bed and waves at Bai Gaoxing to lie down.

Bai Gaoxing lies down as instructed—not completely flat, but propped up slightly with some blankets, allowing his upper body to be raised a little.

Today, Bai Gaoxing’s makeup is different from usual.

In the past, his makeup has been pale and sickly, but today the makeup artist has applied a slightly flushed look, making him appear more vibrant and alive.

The director wants to highlight that brief moment of hope—just before the inevitable decline. A cruel contrast to the so-called “last gasp.”

Frank is no stranger to filming death scenes.

As Bai Gaoxing lies in the blanket, he thinks that when someone dies, they don’t need to struggle like a parrot; they can just quietly close their eyes, right?

Uh… speaking of which, he has only acted in two films, but both of them have this kind of ending?

But in some ways, it also matches his current mood.

Bai Gaoxing looks at Li Pu as he walks over, recites Adonis’s lines, and then holds his hand.

The moment their hands touch, the heat from Li Pu’s palm makes Bai Gaoxing instinctively flinch. However, his small struggle is completely concealed by Li Pu’s large hand, and it isn’t noticeable on camera.

Ah, I’m dead.

Bai Gaoxing’s heart skips a beat. For a second, he forgets what he is supposed to do next. Then, slowly, he lets his eyelids drop, a faint smile lingering on his lips.

“Cut.”

Frank calls for a break.

He discusses something with the screenwriter next to him, complaining about how poorly she has written the scene, then turns back and says, “Bai, I think you can cry here.”

Cry… cry about what? Bai Gaoxing froze.

Seemingly noticing his surprise, Frank says, “Noah is happy that Adonis is with him in his final moments, but he’s also regretful that he can’t stay with Adonis forever, and that he didn’t get to see his favorite spring.” He pauses for a moment. “These two emotions are mixed together, so I hope you can cry and smile at the same time… Hmm… I’m not sure if you understand what I mean.”

“Laugh or cry?” Bai Gaoxing quips, then nods. “Got it, I understand.”

He immediately grasps the effect the director wants to achieve—it’s simply that Noah is content with what he has, yet unbearably reluctant to part with Adonis.

And beyond that, there are even more complicated feelings. A young person’s fear of death, the regret of leaving life unfinished—these emotions can easily bring someone to tears.

But Bai Gaoxing doesn’t know how to cry properly.

Aside from the time when he had just turned human and broke down, he hasn’t cried in a long time.

Even recalling that moment now doesn’t bring the same emotions. His eyes remain dry.

“Do you have… eye drops?” he asks bluntly.

“Oh no, that won’t do,” Frank immediately rejects the idea. “I need real emotions, real tears. Just one drop is enough.”

“Then who knows how long this will take?” Bai Gaoxing says helplessly.

“Think of something sad,” Frank suggests. “Even if it’s painful, you need to let yourself feel it.”

Sad things…

Bai Gaoxing has plenty of those.

He thinks that he actually has a lot of sad memories. But he cried so much as a child that he has grown tired of crying. Now, he has accepted reality—he can feel pain and numbness, but not tears.

So, what can make him cry now? It has to be something overwhelming, something that can truly break through his defenses. He will have to amplify it and let himself feel the heartache.

The crying scene doesn’t need to be continuous. The director just needs to capture the moment of crying, so the camera stays focused on the boy with his eyes closed on the bed.

Then, suddenly—

A single tear slips from the corner of his eye.

Frank, caught off guard, is about to speak when more tears well up and spill over, one after another, soaking the pillow beneath him.

“No, this is too much,” Frank calls out, cutting the scene again.

Bai Gaoxing’s eyes snap open.

But the tears won’t stop.

Li Pu, unable to watch any longer, grabs a tissue from nearby and steps forward.

By now, Bai Gaoxing has already sat up. Silent tears stream down his cheeks as he purses his lips stubbornly, refusing to make a sound.

Droplets gather at his chin and drip down, staining the quilt.

Li Pu is struck by the familiarity of it all—this scene is just like the moment the boy first became human.

Bai Gaoxing forces a smile, his eyes hollow. “Sorry, I think I…” His emotions are unraveling.

His voice falters, turning hoarse.

Then, warmth.

A gentle touch against his cheek.

He blinks, his tear-filled eyes curving slightly as he looks up. The glistening tears reflect light like tiny crystals.

Li Pu hesitates, his gaze darkening slightly.

But he doesn’t ask any questions. He simply, carefully, wipes away the wet streaks on Bai Gaoxing’s face.

The atmosphere in the room shifts. Even the other actors feel moved, some stepping forward to offer quiet words of comfort. The screenwriter reassures him, saying there’s no rush—they can take their time with the scene.

Bai Gaoxing takes a deep breath, wipes away the last of his tears, and clears his throat. His expression smooths over, once again composed.

He casts a quick glance at the man beside him, his eyelashes lowering.

…I can’t say it. The thought flickers through his mind.

He has been thinking about breaking up with Li Pu.