HYAT - 12

Fortunately, Shen Qianzhan’s original intention wasn’t to please Ji Qinghe. Seeing that he was unresponsive to both soft and hard tactics, Shen Qianzhan didn’t press the issue and instead turned her attention to Meng Wangzhou.

After dinner, Shen Qianzhan excused herself to the restroom and went to the cashier to settle the bill.

Before leaving, she didn’t forget to give Su Zan a meaningful look, implying he should seize the opportunity.

Su Zan and Shen Qianzhan had been working together for two years, having developed a tacit understanding. With just a glance from Shen Qianzhan, he immediately got the hint. Using the pretext of a toast, he brought a pot of tea and sat down to Ji Qinghe’s right.

As soon as he sat down, Ji Qinghe looked up, his gaze cold and clear. If Su Zan hadn’t been certain he wasn’t the one who had offended him, he would have thought Ji Qinghe’s stare was as cold as looking at a dead person.

He cleared his throat slightly, raising his voice a little, trying to ease the awkwardness: “Mr. Ji, you probably still remember me, right? We just met two days ago, at Jichun Erwan.”

This time, Ji Qinghe didn’t even lift his eyes, completely ignoring him.

Su Zan was utterly bewildered. Seeing that the atmosphere remained awkward, he could only push on: “Shall I reintroduce myself?”

“During the day, I’m Xiang Qianqian’s manager at Qianzhan Film. At night, I’m Producer Shen’s part-time assistant. My name is Su Zan.”

As he finished speaking, whether it was Su Zan’s illusion or not, he felt that the overly aloof and noble Mr. Ji finally gave him a proper look.

“Part-time assistant,” Ji Qinghe loosened his collar, showing some interest: “And it’s divided into day and night?”

“Sister Zhan’s team has planning assistants. My job is more like a life assistant, a professional drinking companion.” Su Zan chuckled foolishly twice, then asked: “Mr. Ji and Sister Zhan have known each other for a long time? You seem like very close friends.”

Ji Qinghe played with his teacup, not uttering a word.

His face was already naturally cool, even more so when he wasn’t speaking. Su Zan sensed his aloofness and felt a bit helpless.

He’s truly difficult to deal with. No wonder Shen Qianzhan hasn’t gotten his phone number yet.

Su Zan sipped his drink, his peripheral vision catching sight of Xiang Qianqian, who had been ignored all evening. His instinctive professional reaction as a manager immediately kicked in. He rolled his eyes, then directly and bluntly said: “Mr. Ji, would it be convenient for you to give me your contact information?”

He took out his phone and shook it: “WeChat and phone number are both fine.”

Ji Qinghe slightly turned his head and said: “I don’t have WeChat.”

Su Zan was about to tap the “scan” icon when he paused, his phone screen stuck on the Moments page he had just been Browse.

About three minutes ago, Shen Qianzhan had updated her Moments.

Don’t know if she’s a dog, but she’s certainly dog-like.

The accompanying image was a blurred wine glass, and in focus behind the glass was Ji Qinghe’s right hand playing with a cup.

Ji Qinghe scoffed softly, instantly changing his mind: “But wait, I’ll have one in a moment.”

________________________________________

After settling the bill and sitting for a little while.

Shen Qianzhan thoughtfully concluded the gathering by suggesting Ji Qinghe looked tired and needed to go home and rest early.

Shen Qianzhan had the driver take Ji Qinghe and Meng Wangzhou to the entrance of Time Hall. When they got out, she stepped out of the car and walked with them for a couple of steps.

Seeing her being so polite, Meng Wangzhou recalled Shen Qianzhan’s hurried departure yesterday, when they hadn’t even had a warm farewell. He sighed regretfully: “Producer Shen, you’re so interested in clock collecting. When the association organizes an event soon, I’ll let you know, and you can join us if you’re free.”

Shen Qianzhan had put a lot of effort into Meng Wangzhou all evening, almost thoroughly understanding the Beijing Clock Collectors Association’s organization. She smiled and agreed.

She was just racking her brain for a legitimate excuse to make her presence known to Ji Qinghe.

After chatting with Meng Wangzhou, Shen Qianzhan turned her gaze to Ji Qinghe, completing the most crucial part of her “playing hard to get” plan: “Mr. Ji.”

She took a deep breath, as if making a difficult decision, her tone solemn: “Since we are destined not to collaborate, I won’t come to bother you again soon.”

Meng Wangzhou interjected: “Didn’t you two talk perfectly fine yesterday?”

Shen Qianzhan, like an absolute white lotus, showed a look of grievance and hesitated to speak: “Mr. Ji doesn’t quite approve of me, and I also feel that cooperation should be a mutual willingness, not something to be forced.”

Meng Wangzhou had enjoyed their conversation tonight and particularly admired her uninhibited and carefree personality. Hearing this, he looked at Ji Qinghe with great disapproval.

Shen Qianzhan stopped there, patted Meng Wangzhou’s shoulder, and said: “Don’t worry, it won’t affect us drinking together.” With that, she looked at Ji Qinghe again, waving: “Mr. Ji, get some rest early and take care of yourself.”

Ji Qinghe showed no emotion from beginning to end, only finally reacting when he heard “take care of yourself”: “Don’t worry, after all, my wish is to die under a peony.”

His gaze fell on Shen Qianzhan’s face, lingering for a moment, then he said: “Peony flowers require a lot of care and energy to cultivate. I will take good care of myself.”

Shen Qianzhan’s smile stiffened, almost faltering.

She pretended not to understand, maintaining a smiling and friendly farewell on her face, but internally she was already thinking: “Get lost, you bastard.”

________________________________________

Over the next few days, Shen Qianzhan kept her word and no longer bothered to make her presence known at Time Hall.

She only instructed Su Zan to update his Moments irregularly, ensuring the visibility was set to—Ji Qinghe.

Sometimes it would be work updates—endless morning meetings, work reports, crowded meeting rooms.

Sometimes it would be after-work updates—drinking parties, dinners, KTV.

And sometimes, even more perverse, he’d post high-definition, unedited work photos of Shen Qianzhan.

Su Zan’s Moments comments went from “Is the rich second-generation experiencing a financial crisis?” and “You’ve changed, doggie” to “Su Zan, wake up, you’re a rich second-generation who only knows how to live a debauched life.” After that, he desperately set his Moments to be visible only to Ji Qinghe.

Shen Qianzhan was also busy, meeting screenwriters, constantly reviewing works, and selecting suitable candidates.

Her Moments changed from coffee and milk to wolfberries steeped in a thermos, and Meng Wangzhou diligently liked every post daily.

After a busy week, Shen Qianzhan went on a business trip.

The first to breathe a sigh of relief was Su Zan. He almost immediately told his assistant to buy him the loudest bundle of firecrackers from the firecracker shop to celebrate.

When Shen Qianzhan learned this news at the airport, she pulled out Su Zan’s WeChat with a forced smile and called him warmly.

Su Zan was with Xiang Qianqian at an audition. When he received Shen Qianzhan’s call, his heart fluttered, and he quickly covered his phone, hiding in the nanny van: “Sister Zhan?”

Shen Qianzhan asked: “What are you busy with?”

“Accompanying Qianqian to an audition. Director Lei’s new movie is casting, and we bumped into him two days ago while drinking healthy tea, so we got a chance to try out. How are you? Was your flight delayed?”

“No,” Shen Qianzhan said, standing in the check-in line, and instructed: “Don’t forget to post on Moments.”

At the mention of this, Su Zan felt exhausted. He sighed helplessly and asked: “Sister Zhan, will this even work? I’ve been posting on Moments for a week, and Mr. Ji hasn’t even liked a single post.” He probably doesn’t even look at Moments, and might even avoid us when he sees Qianzhan Film’s people.

Shen Qianzhan retorted: “Then what else? You worry about Qianqian’s lack of exposure and fans forgetting her the moment she’s free. If we don’t seize the opportunity to make our presence known to Ji Qinghe, what if he completely forgets about the collaboration?”

Su Zan frowned, his face full of disapproval: “I thought your ‘retreat to advance’ strategy was a thousand-point self-damage for a ten-thousand-point enemy damage. Don’t play yourself into a dead end.”

Moreover, there was something he didn’t say.

He always felt that Sister Zhan using his Moments to portray an image of working hard and living positively was particularly like someone who had been dumped by a scumbag, intentionally creating an image of living well without him, trying to strike at the short-sighted jerk and make him regret it.

He tapped the armrest, then a sudden realization struck him, and he asked: “Sister Zhan, I have a very bold idea.”

Shen Qianzhan had just checked in and boarded the plane. Hearing this, she asked casually while looking for her seat number: “What idea?”

Su Zan said: “That romantic encounter you had in Xi’an, was it Mr. Ji?”

Shen Qianzhan: “...” Damn it, is your mouth blessed or something? Stop your dangerous thoughts right now.

Su Zan had only asked casually. As he expected, his Sister Zhan should have burst into laughter, or cursed him for being unrealistic and having a dirty mind, or laughed flirtatiously and shamelessly, saying she wished she had such luck but didn’t.

But now, there was silence in his ear, no response at all, only the faint, gentle prompt from the flight attendant at the cabin door.

Oh no, oh no.

He seemed to have accidentally activated his “jinx” innate skill again.

Su Zan’s mind buzzed for a moment, then he said in disbelief: “Holy crap, really?”

Shen Qianzhan seemed to just snap back: “Fake.”

Su Zan knew Shen Qianzhan too well. He didn’t believe those two words at all, stuttering incoherently: “The man you slept with seven or eight times in one night was Mr. Ji?”

Shen Qianzhan helplessly pinched her mey-shin, between her eyebrows: “Seven or eight times is a bit of an exaggeration...”

Su Zan suddenly didn’t know whether to first express his admiration and respect for Ji Qinghe’s powerful stamina or to cheer for his Sister Zhan. No wonder Shen Qianzhan hadn’t mentioned “Xiao Yi, Xiao Er, Xiao San, Xiao Si” (little one, little two, little three, little four - often referring to casual lovers or flings) lately; the charm of rekindled old flames was clearly greater.

He rubbed his hands, nervous and excited: “So, between the two of you now, who’s more of a scumbag?”

Shen Qianzhan slapped her phone shut, ending the call.

________________________________________

Shen Qianzhan’s business trip only included Qiao Xin, and they went to Hangzhou.

A month ago, an original script outline submitted by Qiao Xin passed the internal review. After a week of phone communication, Shen Qianzhan felt the efficiency was low and decided to fly to Hangzhou herself for a face-to-face meeting with the creative team.

She always acted decisively. She arrived in Hangzhou at noon that day, roughly finalized the cooperation intention in the afternoon, and even had leisure to visit West Lake with Qiao Xin in the evening.

Unfortunately, Shen Qianzhan was naturally not destined for a life of leisure. As she posed for selfies on the second-floor balcony of Starbucks, her phone automatically pushed an entertainment news alert—popular young actress Xiang Qianqian and her sugar daddy sightseeing at night on the street.

Shen Qianzhan immediately lost interest in selfies. She casually tapped the news, Browse the exposé.

The exposé claimed that an enthusiastic netizen, while walking their dog, unexpectedly encountered Xiang Qianqian and her boyfriend strolling at night, intimately holding hands.

Below this exposé were blurry nighttime photos of Xiang Qianqian and Ji Qinghe walking side-by-side. There were three photos in total: the first showed Xiang Qianqian glancing sideways with a faint smile, maintaining a fist’s distance from Ji Qinghe as they walked; the second showed Xiang Qianqian looking down at the road, with the caption “shyly looking down”; the third was...

Shen Qianzhan tapped to open the large image, zooming in on their allegedly clasped hands—the details were too blurry to make anything out clearly.

Rationally, she was certain that Ji Qinghe and Xiang Qianqian probably hadn’t met more than three times. But emotionally, using herself as an example, she had slept with Ji Qinghe after knowing him for just one day. If they wanted something to happen, considering they had known each other for a week, anything was possible.

Shen Qianzhan was genuinely sour.

She indignantly pulled up Meng Wangzhou’s WeChat account and, in one breath, blocked and deleted him.

________________________________________

An hour later.

Su Zan’s WeChat rarely received two messages from Ji Qinghe.

One read: “Waiting for a lawyer’s letter.”

The other read: “Push Shen Qianzhan to me.”