HYAT - 4

Shen Qianzhan’s original intention was to express her shallow understanding of Xi’an. Although she had affection for it, compared to Ji Qinghe, whose ancestral home was Xi’an, she was merely a fleeting visitor to the city. All she could offer was an appreciation that bloomed like morning dew facing the sun.

Under normal circumstances.

Shen Qianzhan’s level of word choice and sentence construction was practically that of a peak master in the Chinese language group, far surpassing those who say, “Let’s drink, all our feelings are in the wine,” or “I’ll drink first as a sign of respect, and my sincerity is as strong as the alcohol.”

If she wanted a beautiful context, she could rattle off a string of metaphors without repeating words, praising from spring to winter until the seas dry up and rocks decay. If she wanted deep meaning and profound context, she could immediately recite the classic collection of Chinese ancient poetry from five millennia of history backwards. Even if she wanted everyday minimalism and a light luxury context, she could praise from Chanel to Louis Vuitton.

Her knowledge reserve and cultural appreciation could meet the diverse needs of various industries and age groups, making her practically a Chinese cultural repository harvester.

Compared to “tourist affection” or “transient affection,” the precise use of “dewdrop affection” (露水情 - which also means one-night stand) was simply natural and perfectly hit the mark.

But the problem also lay on this “mark”...

She was too carried away, so much so that she completely ignored that the very person with whom she had had a “dewdrop affection” was sitting on the other side of the dinner table.

Fortunately, Shen Qianzhan’s ability to react on the spot and her psychological resilience were as solid as rock, as stable as Mount Tai.

After a brief loss of emotional control, she incredibly naturally tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, raised her glass, and toasted Ji Qinghe from afar: “Compared to Mr. Ji, my understanding of Xi’an is indeed too shallow. Even if I give my all, I am merely the most inconspicuous drop of morning dew in the history of the sixteen ancient capitals.”

Ji Qinghe watched her for a moment, then suddenly smiled.

He raised a hand to loosen his tie, leaned back in his chair, and adopted a more casual posture: “We’re not talking about the history of Xi’an’s thirteen dynasties today.”

“We’re just talking about Producer Shen’s ‘dewdrop affection.’”

Shen Qianzhan: “...”

So, all her efforts to save face just now were completely ignored by him? He just had to be petty?

This scoundrel was genuinely stingy.

“Speaking of which, I really did scout Xi’an. In the initial proposal, the protagonist was born in the 1980s, right in the era of rapid development, a character caught between old and new times. Unfortunately, Xi’an doesn’t have particularly suitable filming locations, nor economically viable studio areas. Building our own sets would easily exceed the budget,” Shen Qianzhan said, subtly changing the topic, her voice tinged with regret: “Now the main creative team for the project is leaning towards filming in Beijing and is currently revising the characters’ backgrounds.”

Unfortunately, the tactic was good, but Ji Qinghe wasn’t buying it: “Producer Shen said there are no suitable filming locations?”

He didn’t pick up his wine glass. His gaze fell on the glass of clear water beside him. His fingertips tapped on the tabletop, as if considering whether to settle for a sip of the now-cold water.

Shen Qianzhan’s forehead twitched slightly, a hint of a headache setting in.

She knew Ji Qinghe was digging a hole for her in public, yet she couldn’t immediately think of a perfect solution. She could only bite the bullet and hummed a response, waiting for him to continue.

Ji Qinghe finally picked up the glass and took a sip of clear water, asking unhurriedly, “Qinghe Three Lanes isn’t suitable either, hmm?”

“It’s a semi-open ancient garden area, private and historically verifiable. Xi’an’s most famous internet-famous spot, a romantic encounter haven,” he spoke very slowly, as if afraid Shen Qianzhan wouldn’t hear clearly, enunciating each word with particular precision: “Producer Shen, you haven’t been there, have you?”

The smile on Shen Qianzhan’s face vanished instantly.

Memories related to Qinghe Three Lanes almost instantly came to mind.

For a moment, she desperately wanted to go back to that bed and kick this scoundrel off it to let him experience what it felt like for “June’s ‘spring’ breeze to be like scissors, specifically clipping tall pillars.”

This was originally just a performance of professional fake smiles and who was the most dedicated. When she was happy, her smile had some sincerity; when she wasn’t, she couldn’t even bother to pretend and just pulled a long face.

“I’ve been there.” She put down her wine glass, her voice cold: “It seems Mr. Ji is quite interested in our project. How about after the dinner, you leave me your work email or contact information, and I’ll send you a copy of the proposal?”

Her abrupt change in demeanor was obvious, catching everyone in the room, who had been smiling and listening to their “pleasant conversation,” somewhat off guard.

Su Zan was even more bewildered. Where was his charming, adaptable Sister Zhan? Who was this woman who wanted to stab Mr. Ji?

Did she still want the investment? Did she still want the project to start? Did she still want her bonus?

He chuckled awkwardly, quietly tugging at Shen Qianzhan, and whispered through gritted teeth, “Sister Zhan, do you want to go to the restroom and cool down?”

Shen Qianzhan felt quite calm.

From the moment Ji Qinghe appeared, she had secretly calculated that this collaboration was likely to fall through.

She had been in the industry for years, and aside from using her own artists for cooperative resources, she had never involved personal feelings in any project. She only hoped that Ji Qinghe, being aloof and proud, wouldn’t bother to acknowledge her. After tonight’s gathering, they would go their separate ways, as if they had never met again.

How much sincerity could a one-night stand have?

If she hadn’t been greedy for beauty and foolishly led astray, she wouldn’t have stumbled so badly.

In this circle, it’s incredibly difficult to maintain a good reputation.

Shen Qianzhan’s reputation, built up painstakingly over several years, was something she absolutely did not want to see ruined by scandalous news involving an investor.

So the best approach was: no cooperation, no crossing the line, no repeating past mistakes.

________________________________________

The night passed uneventfully.

As the dinner approached its end, Shen Qianzhan excused herself to the restroom, also taking the opportunity to pay the bill.

When she returned, she predictably saw Ai Yi waiting by the sink, touching up her lipstick.

Ai Yi: “So much fire tonight?”

Shen Qianzhan turned on the faucet, briefly rinsed the back of her hands, and didn’t reply.

Ai Yi glanced at her in the mirror, twisted her lipstick back, and put it into her small handbag: “You can’t possibly not see that Jiang Yecheng intends to cooperate with Mr. Ji, can you?”

“Isn’t attracting investment my job? Why is Mr. Jiang worrying about it?” Shen Qianzhan turned and grabbed paper towels to dry her hands, unconcerned, meticulously tidying stray strands of hair from her forehead.

Ai Yi chuckled lightly, shaking her head: “Qianzhan, Bai Xuan signed the contract with Qianzhan Film. As the client, they have the right to ask Qianzhan Film to replace the producer.”

“And I heard that at the time, to secure this tribute drama, you accepted Bai Xuan’s ‘overlord clause,’” she leaned against the wall, her smile neither warm nor cold, seemingly ethereal but sounding like she was dealing in illegal substances: “I won’t elaborate on the importance of this drama to the platform. Let me give you a heads-up: if you offend someone and get replaced, I can’t make a decision to breach the contract for your sake.”

Shen Qianzhan meticulously smoothed the last stray hair. Looking at her radiant and stunning reflection in the mirror, her mood finally improved considerably.

Su Zan had always thought she liked Jichun Erwan because of the hotel’s “pay later” service, but that was only one reason. Another reason she couldn’t directly voice was: look at this mirror, it’s like it comes with a beauty filter, so pleasing.

She nodded, tucked in her chin, and saw her palm-sized face shrink even further from that angle. Finally satisfied, she said: “It’s alright.”

Shen Qianzhan’s last sentence was light and unanchored. Ai Yi couldn’t immediately tell if her “it’s alright” was referring to herself or responding to Ai Yi’s warning.

“You don’t need to breach the contract,” Shen Qianzhan said with a forced smile, not even bothering to be vague, directly stating: “There’s no true emotion in the field of interest. Our plastic friendship can only be win-win; it can’t withstand tests.”

She turned to leave, but halfway through opening the door, she remembered something and turned back to add: “Don’t worry about replacing the producer. I won’t step aside; let’s see who dares to replace me.”

________________________________________

Despite saying that, once back in the private room, Shen Qianzhan still straightened her attitude and maintained the enthusiasm appropriate for a client, accompanying them until the end of the dinner.

The unfavorable atmosphere tonight meant no one drank too much.

When the party ended, the mood was quite sober and rational.

Although the objective conditions weren’t conducive to her usual performance, Shen Qianzhan was still good at seizing opportunities, sparing no effort to showcase her excellent quality as a considerate “little warm jacket.”

She asked Su Zan to call a driver for Jiang Yecheng first, to wait at the hotel entrance, preventing Mr. Jiang from catching a chill after drinking.

This thoughtfulness somewhat softened Jiang Yecheng’s sour expression from the evening. He then expressed his eagerness to cooperate with Buzhong Sui, reminding her to connect more with Ji Qinghe offline.

Shen Qianzhan readily agreed, then turned to arrange for Ai Yi.

Ai Yi’s company was nearby, and she had driven herself there. Shen Qianzhan called a designated driver for her.

After arranging everyone, she seemed to finally remember that she had overlooked Ji Qinghe. With an apologetic expression, yet little sincerity in her tone, she asked, “Mr. Ji, do you have a hotel you’re staying at in Beijing?”

Ji Qinghe had observed Shen Qianzhan’s deliberate coldness throughout. Hearing her question, he met her gaze and replied, “I just settled in Beijing not long ago.” As he spoke, he lightly tapped his fingertips on the tabletop.

His fingers were long and strong, with sharp and clear lines. For seasoned hand-enthusiasts, they were perfectly flawless works of art, naturally suited for admiration.

Shen Qianzhan looked once, then again. That suffocating feeling of being gripped at the back of her neck returned.

It was as if he wasn’t just tapping the table to relieve boredom, but had another intention: noting her debts.

Shen Qianzhan tried to maintain her composure: “Otherwise, I can call a driver for you?”

Ji Qinghe looked up, his expression not entirely satisfied.

Shen Qianzhan asked again: “Then should I have Su Zan send you?”

Ji Qinghe still didn’t respond, but his face clearly conveyed: Su Zan, who?

Shen Qianzhan really wanted to pretend she didn’t understand, but her intelligence wouldn’t allow it.

She hesitated, the phrase “If you’re not in a hurry, I can give you a ride later” stuck at the tip of her tongue, unable to come out.

Ji Qinghe had no intention of letting Shen Qianzhan be embarrassed in front of their collaborators. He maintained his composure, meaningfully saying, “No rush, I’ll sober up.”

Jiang Yecheng and Ai Yi, who had just shifted their butts, ready to leave, exchanged glances, seeing the same question in each other’s eyes: Did he drink tonight?