The flawless protagonists in novels, the unbelievably gorgeous characters on screen, or the youth idols that send young people into a frenzy—they all have another side unseen by the public.
Just one simple example should suffice to prove this point: Doesn’t the Little Dragon Girl need to go to the bathroom?
Thus, nothing in this world is perfect. Perhaps while you are cheering for the pure idol's brilliant performance on stage from the audience at a concert, she is actually on her period, a sanitary pad tucked between her legs. Perhaps a male celebrity, held up as a public role model, is secretly married and simultaneously cheating, fathering an illegitimate child.
People have two sides, perhaps even multiple masks. Wang Zhuo was no exception. Even those closest to him were unaware of the huge secret he kept hidden: X-ray vision.
And who would have guessed that Miss Ning Yao, the dazzling Movie Queen under the spotlight, the envy of countless women and the dream lover of innumerable men, renowned as the epitome of Eastern beauty, harbored a wild side beneath her refined and virtuous exterior?
Inside the warm, spring-like villa, a scene of ** had just concluded.
Oh no, perhaps it hadn't concluded yet, as their Great Movie Queen, Sister Ning Yao, hadn't yet dressed, and Wang Zhuo had only managed to throw on a bathrobe.
Wang Zhuo was currently leaning over the coffee table, sketching on a sheet of white paper with a pencil. Ning Yao nestled beside him, admiring his work in silent astonishment, afraid to interrupt his concentration.
In truth, Wang Zhuo’s drawing skill was limited to what he learned in middle school art class; he didn't even understand proper technique, relying solely on intuition when drawing. Yet, what he produced possessed an incredibly realistic style. If she hadn't seen him draw stroke by stroke, Ning Yao would have surely mistaken the final result for a photograph manipulated with special computer effects.
A lifelike image was gradually taking shape. It was a broad scene, featuring the expansive hall of the entire villa in the foreground, with the mezzanine level on the second floor below it—the main door, chandelier, railings, and sofa were all meticulously detailed.
The main subject of the drawing, positioned right in the center of the paper, was a ** female body. Although only the back was visible, Ning Yao knew clearly that it was herself. In the image, she was kneeling on the carpet, supported by her arms, her back muscles softly defined, her head tilted slightly back, her coiled hair slightly disheveled.
With a few quick strokes, Wang Zhuo outlined the lowest part of the scene. From his perspective looking down, this area depicted his own chest and outstretched arms—a pair of long-fingered hands gripping Ning Yao’s hips, the knuckles slightly sinking into the soft, yielding flesh.
And beyond those hands, before the chest, a space on the paper remained blank, refusing to outline the most crucial details.
He paused his pen, grinned, and turned to look at Ning Yao.
“So you have a talent for drawing. That’s quite a surprise...” Ning Yao, thinking he was finished, offered sincere praise.
Wang Zhuo smiled and shook his head. When drawing, he was actually cheating by using his X-ray vision. He merely had to replay the scene recorded by his vision in his mind, adjust the proportions, and then trace it onto the paper. A draft was instantaneously created in his eyes; all he had to do next was trace it onto the paper as if copying it.
Of course, this process was unknown to any bystander. His draft existed only for him, imaged within his retina.
“It really is well done. I bet you’d achieve great success even if you switched careers to become a painter...” Ning Yao commented, pointing at the image with a smile: “Are you leaving this spot blank on purpose? Is this a technique meant to leave room for the viewer’s imagination?”
“No, I’m not finished yet.” Wang Zhuo winked mischievously at her, as if mocking her attempt to outsmart him.
Ning Yao let out a soft sound, lightly bumping him with her arm: “Then why stop drawing?”
“Do you think painters are dairy cows? That milk flows out with a squeeze...” Wang Zhuo said smugly: “I need to cultivate some emotion.”
Ning Yao urged him: “Then hurry up and cultivate it. I’m waiting to see.”
“Already cultivated.” Wang Zhuo leaned in close: “Kiss me, and then I’ll start drawing...”
The Movie Queen’s lips were slightly warm, still carrying a faint, salty taste. She tried to push her tongue into Wang Zhuo’s mouth, hoping he could taste his own flavor, but Wang Zhuo anticipated it and nimbly dodged.
After the kiss, Wang Zhuo immediately put pen to paper. He drew incredibly fast. With just a few strokes, he sketched the basic outline, then meticulously shaded the details. Moments later, he realistically reproduced the place where their flesh met, which became the true focal point of the entire drawing. Even as a simple charcoal sketch, it was enough to make any viewer gasp in admiration and quicken their pulse. “Tch,” Ning Yao suddenly scoffed: “Such high artistic skill, yet you use it to draw something so vulgar. I was right about you. You’re an absolute rogue...”
The scene was depicted from Wang Zhuo’s perspective: a luxurious villa, bright spring light, a perfectly sculpted woman being ridden by a man **. Perhaps decades later, this would be a perfect work of art, but in the present moment, it was unadulterated pornography.
“What do you know? This is called art,” Wang Zhuo countered earnestly: “Even Confucius, that great man, said, ‘Food and sex are what men desire.’ This proves that engaging in such acts is just as vital as eating; it concerns the survival of humanity. So, my painting isn't vulgar at all; it's displaying life, elevating life...”
Ning Yao chuckled until her frame shook: “Keep talking. If that’s true, why is it legal to photograph people eating, but illegal to photograph this kind of thing?”
“It’s necessary due to national circumstances,” Wang Zhuo laughed: “One hundred years ago, it wasn't illegal. In many other countries, it isn't illegal either. Haven't you heard? Even the Chairman read the illustrated edition of Jin Ping Mei.” “I can’t argue with you.” Ning Yao gave up, shaking her head with a wry smile, then asked: “Don’t you usually prefer the biting kind of play? Why draw this instead?”
“This is my second favorite,” Wang Zhuo chuckled dryly: “The body is comparatively difficult to draw; drawing this is much simpler...”
“You just love these kinds of ways to bully people,” Ning Yao huffed: “Either shoving it in someone’s mouth, or this riding posture... you little hooligan...”
Wang Zhuo raised an eyebrow and smiled, asking: “Then do you like being ridden by me?”
Ning Yao’s pretty face flushed slightly. She glanced at the drawing on the table and softly asked in return: “What do you think?”
Wang Zhuo smiled proudly, picked up his pen, and inscribed the date in a corner of the drawing, adding a crudely drawn huāyā as his signature.
Compared to his drawing skill, this signature was vastly inferior. There was no help for it; what he was doing should actually be called tracing, hence the good drawing. The huāyā, however, was entirely dependent on his own innate ability, remaining stuck at his middle-school level.
“That signature is certainly unique,” Ning Yao remarked with curious appraisal. “Even if someone else wanted to imitate it, they probably couldn't. The anti-counterfeiting factor is quite high.”
Wang Zhuo sweated inwardly, feeling a shame born from deceiving the public. He wondered if this was the saying: A master's sloppy work is deemed beautiful; a novice's masterpiece is deemed ugly.
“Draw one that shows my face tonight, how about it?” Ning Yao suggested eagerly.
“One that shows the face?” Wang Zhuo teased wickedly: “Doesn't that mean I get to enjoy myself thoroughly again?”
She gave him an annoyed glare. The Movie Queen pouted: “Even if I didn’t want a drawing, you wouldn't let me stop enjoying it, would you?”
Wang Zhuo was about to praise her for being sharp-witted and pragmatic when his cell phone suddenly rang on the table.
Seeing the caller ID, the corners of his mouth gradually lifted. The caller wasn't just anyone—it was Ning Yao’s old acquaintance, the beautiful widow Ruan Mingqing!
Seeing he wasn't rushing to answer, Ning Yao looked curiously at the phone and asked: “Mingqing? Who is it?” “You’ve met this person, but you don't know each other,” Wang Zhuo said cryptically, picking up the phone and hitting the answer button.
“Wang Zhuo, how have you been lately?” Ruan Mingqing’s voice was quite proper, betraying no hint of anything unusual.
“Living very well,” Wang Zhuo replied with a smile, casting a glance at Ning Yao, who was indeed making his life very good. He asked Ruan Mingqing: “How about you, Sister Qing? How are things with you?”
Ruan Mingqing laughed: “Same as always. I’m heading to Jiangzhou in a couple of days for an exhibition. If you’re free, why don’t we meet up?”
Meet up? She meant ‘come out’ instead, didn’t she? Wang Zhuo grinned, chuckling low: “Sister Qing, I’m actually in Beijing right now. When are you free?”
“You’re in Beijing?!” Ruan Mingqing sounded genuinely surprised and quickly pressed: “Are you with a group?”
“Just me alone, but I can bring a friend to introduce to you,” Wang Zhuo said, his words layered with meaning: “It might be a surprise, you know...”
Ruan Mingqing paused briefly, then cheerfully agreed: “That sounds great. I don’t have anything important scheduled these next few days, so I’m available anytime.”
“Then let’s not wait for another day, how about today?” Wang Zhuo winked at the thoroughly confused Ning Yao, saying to Ruan Mingqing: “I’m currently near Miaofeng Mountain.”
Miaofeng Mountain was in a relatively remote suburb. Ruan Mingqing considered the logistics and suggested a plan: since Wang Zhuo said they weren't ‘outsiders,’ they could have dinner first, then go sing karaoke.
After he hung up, Ning Yao curiously asked: “Is she a relative, or a friend?”
“A friend,” Wang Zhuo thought to himself, suppressing a laugh, and smoothly steered the conversation: “She’s a fan of yours. I’ll surprise her later!”
Ever since The Final Battle of Divorce, Ruan Mingqing had admired the talented actress Ning Yao. In the drama, Ning Yao played a character who dared to love and hate and bravely took responsibility, while Ruan Mingqing herself had just endured a failed and abruptly terminated marriage—so she often compared herself to the female lead in the play.
When the painful Struggle became a massive hit, Ruan Mingqing admired Ning Yao, the talented woman, even more. She never once imagined that this icon, who seemed like a chosen daughter of heaven, had once, in the silence of a lonely night, spied on her intimate moments with Wang Zhuo, even reaching a state of intense arousal, unable to stop herself!
It was common for fans to meet celebrities, so Ning Yao didn't think much of Wang Zhuo’s comment, unaware of just how special this fan truly was. A surprise awaited Ruan Mingqing, but for the great Movie Queen, wasn't an equal surprise also waiting?