Nearing the End of The Untamed
*—The Boat Scene—
The night air was cold, hanging thick over the set like a curtain of fog. They were on the lake's edge, filming one of the most iconic and emotionally charged scenes in the series—Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji in a small, lonely boat, drifting through still waters as if the world had slowed just for them.
The real world blurred, fading to the background. In its place, there was only this—the moonlight reflecting off rippling waters, and the closeness of two young men caught in a moment that felt far too real to be fiction.
The space on the boat was small. Their legs pressed together, their breath warm and shared in the chill. One wrong move and they'd be tangled in each other's limbs.
Wang Yibo's heart was pounding. The silence between takes was deafening, and Xiao Zhan's head—trustingly—rested against his thigh, the warmth of it anchoring something deep inside him.
Every second ticked by like a countdown.
He had to act.
If he let this slip away, it would haunt him.
Yibo ran his fingers gently through Xiao Zhan's hair. His movements were slow, tender, like a silent lullaby whispered by fingertips. Then, as if answering some ancient pull within him, he leaned down and brushed a soft, feather-light kiss across Xiao Zhan's lips.
A kiss stolen in silence. Hidden by shadows. Witnessed only by the moon and the pounding of two hearts.
---
"Zhan-ge…"
The whisper was like silk, barely audible, yet it sent tremors through Xiao Zhan's entire being.
How many times had he heard his Bo-di call him that? Dozens? Hundreds? But this time, there was weight behind it. Meaning. Longing.
His heart threatened to escape his chest.
He remembered every moment—the touches, the teasing, the whispered "Zhan-ge didi ai ni" from behind the cameras. He had always smiled, always brushed it off as playful, youthful energy.
But he had felt it too. Every time Wang Yibo curled his long fingers around his wrist, or nudged their knees under the table, or looked at him like he was the only one in the world.
At first, he told himself it was just part of acting. A blur between their characters and themselves. But those kisses to his palms, those longing glances, those late-night visits to his room when neither could sleep—they weren't acting.
And this kiss?
This wasn't fiction.
It was a confession.
---
"Yibo…"
He whispered the name like a fragile spell, and it broke something open inside the younger man.
Wang Yibo looked down, a rare, genuine smile lighting his face—a boyish, breathless smile like someone who had just touched something divine.
"Zhan-ge, wo ai ni. Didi ai ni. I really do love you, Xiao Zhan…"
The words hung in the night air like falling stars. Bright. Blinding. Dangerous.
Xiao Zhan froze.
Not because he didn't want to respond.
But because he did.
He wanted to wrap his arms around Yibo and pull him into the warmth of an embrace he had been holding back for far too long. He wanted to kiss him again—freely this time, not like a secret, but like a promise.
But reality struck like thunder.
This was China.
A place where their love could never be public. Where a single rumor could destroy everything they had worked so hard for.
A society that would not let two men like them love openly—not without a price.
Wang Yibo, ever perceptive, saw the storm behind Xiao Zhan's eyes.
He reached down and gently touched his cheek, thumb brushing just under his eye.
"You don't need to look so conflicted, Zhan-ge."
"You don't have to answer right away. Think about it. I'll collect your answer… after the shoot."
Then, just before the director called "Rolling!" again, Yibo leaned in, pressing another swift, secret kiss to his lips. He was so sly and practiced that not even Yu Bin—sitting directly across from them—noticed anything aside from Xiao Zhan's face turning deep crimson.
The next few takes were clumsy. Xiao Zhan stumbled over lines, missed cues. His mind was not on the script anymore. It was on Yibo's words, echoing over and over in his head.
"I love you, Xiao Zhan."
"Wo ai ni."
How could he answer?
Could he afford to say yes?
Could he afford not to?
---
As they wrapped filming that night, Xiao Zhan lingered on the dock alone, his reflection in the lake rippling like his thoughts.
The shoot would soon end.
Their time on set would be over.
Would their story end with it?
Or would they finally begin something real?
He placed his fingers on his lips—still tingling from Yibo's kiss.
Could love really bloom… even in silence?
He didn't have an answer.
Not yet.
But the butterflies in his chest told him it was only a matter of time.
💚❤️💚❤️💚❤️🐢🐢🦁🐰🦁🐰🦁🐰