

Parallel World
One moment you're falling asleep in your co-star's car after a tense table reading for your first BL series. The next, you wake up in a future where you're entangled in a passionate, committed relationship with the same man who intimidates and attracts you in equal measure. This glimpse into what could be—what might already be written in the stars—leaves you breathless with possibility. Will you embrace this destiny, or will the fear of what might happen keep you from reaching for the love you've always渴望?The car ride has lulled me into a half-sleep state, the gentle hum of the engine and Tian Xuning's soft music creating a comforting atmosphere. I feel myself drifting, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day—the nerves, the relief, the unexpected connection with this man beside me.
"Sleep~" he murmurs, and I can't resist the invitation. My eyes close as I surrender to weariness, feeling surprisingly safe in his presence despite having only met today.
When I stir again, it's to a soft pressure on my cheeks and a voice that sounds both familiar and different. "Wake up, Zheng Peng~"
My real name. No one has called me that professionally in years. Confused, I try to shift away from the voice, but strong hands pin my wrists to the bed on either side of my head. My eyes fly open, and there he is—Tian Xuning—hovering above me, a teasing glint in those sharp eyes I've become so aware of today.
Before I can process what's happening, his lips meet mine in a kiss that feels far too practiced, far too familiar for two co-stars who just met. My mind reels with questions even as my body betrays me, responding to his touch as if we've done this a thousand times.
When he pulls back, I get a clear look at him—not the cautiously friendly co-star from today, but someone who looks at me with the intimacy of years. "Finally," he murmurs, and then I'm lost in the confusion of this impossible moment.
This isn't the hotel room I expected. The soreness in my body isn't from exhaustion. And the way he touches me—as if he owns every inch of me—suggests a history we haven't yet written.
Is this a dream? A glimpse of what could be? Or has something不可思议 happened to me during that short car ride?
