HYAT - 11

Shen Qianzhan’s thought process was simple and blunt.

Ji Qinghe had repeated, “I hope Producer Shen never has a day when she needs to come knocking on my door for a favor,” twice. The first time he said it, Shen Qianzhan took it as mere bluster from a man whose pride was wounded, trying to save face.

Honestly, she didn’t take it seriously the first time.

After all, from investors (her “sugar daddies”) to artist managers, such incidents occurred monthly, rain or shine, never missing a beat.

Investors had a myriad of reasons, from insisting on artistic aesthetics to accommodating their mistresses, or simply satisfying their need for control.

Typically, the most common action after making such threats was to withdraw funds.

Shen Qianzhan was equally direct: if they violated the contract, she sued; if they pushed their mistresses, she kicked them out; if they tried to control the production and sideline her, she fought back.

She was still adept at handling her “sugar daddies,” let alone artist managers.

Just two days prior, threats were made, and both parties tacitly agreed to never interact again. A couple of days later, after Shen Qianzhan painted a rosy picture, the other party returned with the artist’s resume, as if suffering from amnesia.

What could she do? She could only pretend to reconcile and then continue to blacklist them.

Ji Qinghe’s situation was slightly different from the two examples above. When he brought up that line a second time, Shen Qianzhan took it seriously.

This scoundrel was handsome, skilled, and exceptionally decisive in his actions.

For him to repeat a sentence twice, he was clearly vexed. Perhaps it was like the deeper the gasp, the greater the pleasure?

Shen Qianzhan mused that Ji Qinghe likely held a grudge over her “prostitution fee” remark and was confident that there was no suitable clock restorer who met her requirements other than him. No matter how much she somersaulted, she couldn’t escape the two “great mountains” in his palm.

Ji Qinghe was right.

She could find other investors, but currently, he was the only clock restorer who met her criteria.

But to truly lower herself and beg Ji Qinghe? She couldn’t do it.

A woman’s softness should never be found in her dignity or bottom line.

This was also one of the reasons why she was so resistant to working with Ji Qinghe. Who knew if, once they genuinely collaborated, she wouldn’t get carried away and desire him again?

Moreover, pretending everything was normal while facing a man with whom she’d had a fleeting affair, and having to be oblivious to his good looks, like a virtuous woman... If it weren’t for the pressing circumstances and lack of suitable alternatives, Shen Qianzhan wouldn’t be doing such a losing business.

________________________________________

Ji Qinghe lifted his gaze, his eyes assessing Shen Qianzhan’s face.

From the day he met Shen Qianzhan, this woman was like a meticulously kept vase, maintaining her 360-degree flawlessness around the clock.

Today was clearly even more so.

Ji Qinghe’s gaze traveled down from her deep, earthy, sunset-hued eye makeup, noted her deliberately flaunted new nails, and finally rested on her lips.

She was smiling, three parts defiant, seven parts entertained.

Clearly, she was here to stir up trouble.

He scoffed, his eyes deeply scrutinizing her, then noncommittally picked up the children’s watch.

The watch dial was a plain, silver-edged circle, with Minnie Mouse printed on the back. Both hands, one long and one short, were stuck at twelve o’clock.

Ji Qinghe flipped the watch over, examining the case back: “It’s quite something that you found such a vintage watch.” He asked: “From twenty years ago?”

Shen Qianzhan nodded: “First grade, a gift from my mom.”

Ji Qinghe understood. He pulled over a leather mat, casually wrapped the watch in it, and directly tossed it into a cabinet on the workbench, his expression cold, his voice detached: “Can’t fix it. Just go to Meng Wangzhou and pick another one.”

He smiled, each word clear and forceful: “I’ll compensate you.”

Shen Qianzhan: “...” This guy is ruthless. He’s even resorting to this kind of trickery?

She was about to argue when she heard him “shush” her, his expression impatient, clearly conveying a devilish look that said, “If you cause any more trouble, I’ll deal with you.”

Shen Qianzhan fell silent for a moment.

Her plan to annoy Ji Qinghe with a watch repair... was as naive as a terrible idea from a kindergarten-level opponent like Su Zan.

She suddenly felt like Jingzhou had been lost, the battle was over; she was simply no match for Ji Qinghe.

Ji Qinghe unbuttoned his cuffs, casually asking her: “Today it’s repairing a watch, tomorrow, a clock?”

“Or do you have no plan at all, just taking it one step at a time, as long as you can target me?” He rolled up his sleeves, and the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose glinted with a few streaks of cold, sharp light in the setting sun outside the window.

He lazily pushed up his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and briefly closed his eyes: “I’ve seen Producer Shen’s resume. I thought Producer Shen’s business acumen was quite formidable, but now it seems...” He opened his eyes, a half-smile playing on his lips: “Just so-so.”

“It’s alright, I guess.” Shen Qianzhan pretended not to hear the latter half of his sentence, remaining calm and collected: “I just didn’t expect Mr. Ji to be such a jerk?”

Her phone vibrated subtly in her pocket.

Shen Qianzhan guessed it was Su Zan, unable to wait, asking about the situation. While checking WeChat, she casually asked Ji Qinghe: “Dinner? My treat tonight.”

Before Ji Qinghe could refuse, she gracefully added: “Aren’t you curious about my business acumen? Give me a chance?”

________________________________________

Imperial Feast was a famous Beijing-style restaurant known for its Manchu Han Imperial Feast, a true hidden gem.

Shen Qianzhan called to reserve a table at ten in the morning and only managed to get a private room in the afternoon.

Once seated, Su Zan handled the ordering, and Shen Qianzhan was in charge of the drinks. After the appetizer platters were served one by one, Producer Shen, with her characteristic sense of ceremony, formally began, introducing Xiang Qianqian to Ji Qinghe.

Ji Qinghe didn’t touch the wine she had just poured, instead picking up a cup of clear tea to moisten his throat. Naturally, he also ignored Xiang Qianqian’s attempt to toast him.

After finishing his tea, he glanced at Shen Qianzhan, his words ambiguous and laced with sarcasm: “Business acumen? Yes, very commercial indeed.”

Xiang Qianqian felt awkward.

She turned to glance at Su Zan, who appeared unperturbed and used to it, which somewhat comforted her.

Su Zan was quite accustomed to the “bantering” dynamic between Mr. Ji and his Sister Zhan.

After all, these two didn’t hold back even in front of important figures; they were just ordinary staff, even less significant.

Shen Qianzhan smiled, not directly engaging: “Didn’t Mr. Ji just say two days ago that he’d settled in Beijing? I’m just being kind. Beijing is a big place, and connections are needed everywhere...”

Ji Qinghe interrupted her: “Buzhong Sui has tens of thousands of top clients.”

Shen Qianzhan smiled.

This scoundrel. Can’t go a single sentence without sniping, can he?

With one hand holding her metaphorical sword and the other holding a glass of wine, she directly toasted Meng Wangzhou: “Boss Meng, you’ve had it tough these past few years, haven’t you?”

Meng Wangzhou, suddenly called out, put down his gossip live stream on WeChat and raised his glass, returning a shallow toast: “Qinghe might be different from the businessmen Producer Shen usually deals with. He’s devoted to clock restoration and can be a bit old-fashioned. Though he’s cunning, he doesn’t hold grudges much...”

The more Meng Wangzhou spoke, the more he felt he was straying from his original intention. He immediately bit his tongue to stop himself, abruptly forcing a save: “Producer Shen will understand naturally once you get to know him better.”

Old-fashioned?

Perhaps not.

She thought Ji Qinghe was quite trendy; he couldn’t have just picked it up on his own, could he?

Shen Qianzhan clicked her tongue, pulling her thoughts back.

Currently, she hadn’t even assembled a screenwriting team. Aside from one percent of the script idea, nothing else for the project’s preparation had begun.

Meng Wangzhou’s words reminded her that going head-to-head with Ji Qinghe like this was not only useless but might even be counterproductive.

Had she lost all her emotional intelligence after sleeping? She hadn’t used any of her old tricks for coaxing “sugar daddies”; she just wanted to force Ji Qinghe into cooperation. Why on earth?

Shen Qianzhan had an epiphany, and a new plan formed in her mind.

She stood up, picked up her wine glass. As a person of substance, she could bend and stretch. She offered Ji Qinghe a compensatory toast: “Mr. Ji, please don’t be bothered by me. I’m treating you to this meal tonight, first, to thank Brother Wangzhou for his hospitality last night, and second, to apologize to Mr. Ji.”

She poured another glass, her hand not trembling at all, steady as an old dog: “It’s my fault for relying on the bit of... acquaintance between Mr. Ji and me, and being overly offensive in my words.”

Shen Qianzhan tilted her head back, drinking the glass without batting an eye.

There was a shimmer in her eyes, and wine stains glistened on her lips, showing a hint of drunkenness.

The room was silent; no one dared to speak.

Su Zan was even more dumbfounded. What was this act? Before leaving, wasn’t she calling him a “scoundrel” and even making fierce remarks about not wanting to be “pushed around” by Ji Qinghe, but rather wanting to “push him around”?

This was truly surreal.

When Shen Qianzhan poured her third glass of wine, Ji Qinghe’s expression finally shifted.

His gaze remained calm, and only when the light entered his eyes could one discern a fleeting hint of clarity and restraint.

He pursed his lips slightly, as if wanting to see what else she would say, with a hint of casual abandon in his demeanor.

Shen Qianzhan dug through her mental “Chinese Cultural Library” and said: “Mr. Ji prefers quiet, and I’ve disturbed you multiple times with my improper behavior. I sincerely apologize.” As her glass touched her lips, she saw Ji Qinghe seemingly straighten up a bit, and she added: “Three penalty drinks, and let’s forget our differences?”

Before Ji Qinghe could answer.

She raised her hand, lifted her glass, her lips parting, but before she could even smell the wine, her wrist was clasped by a slender hand. He didn’t use much force, yet held her firmly.

Ji Qinghe’s voice was low, his tone helpless: “Shen Qianzhan, here, we don’t force people to drink or argue about right and wrong.”

Shen Qianzhan had drunk two glasses on an empty stomach and was slightly tipsy: “So, I drank for nothing?”

She asked directly, with a hint of surprise in her words. This subconscious reaction was unexpectedly more appealing than Shen Qianzhan when she was clear-headed and worldly.

Ji Qinghe curved his lips, saying: “Yes, for nothing.”

Shen Qianzhan: “...”

Damn it, pleasing Ji Qinghe is harder than seducing him.