Psst! We're moving!
Shen Qianzhan didn’t hear him clearly the first time.
Ji Qinghe repeated: “My grandfather wants to see you.” His voice was low and mature, with the unique magnetism of an adult man.
Shen Qianzhan first savored the sound of his voice, and when she realized the content of his words, she was momentarily surprised: “Old Master Ji?”
“Are you that surprised?”
The elevator ascended to the second floor and made a brief stop.
Ji Qinghe switched hands, holding the umbrella, and moved closer to her before the doors opened.
The entrance of the elevator was crowded with people, all patients or family members going to the outpatient clinics on the floors above, carrying medical records or reports.
A nurse gently called out to make way, pushing an old man in a wheelchair who was on an IV drip.
The floor beneath Shen Qianzhan’s feet sank slightly as more and more people entered. She could feel the elevator’s capacity slowly approaching its limit.
She moved to a corner, and just as her leg touched the wet umbrella, Ji Qinghe noticed it before she did and handed the umbrella to her: “Hold this.”
As soon as Shen Qianzhan took it, he turned around, using his back to cut off all contact, shielding her between his body and the corner of the elevator wall.
She completely forgot what she was about to say. In front of her was his wet, disheveled hair, which looked less formal and meticulous, making his face appear much softer. Only his eyes, still as deep as a ravine, offered no sense of security.
Shen Qianzhan swallowed, her gaze uncontrollably moving from his eyebrows and eyes to his lips.
Ji Qinghe’s lips were not thin. His lower lip was slightly fuller than his upper, and the lines were so perfect they looked 3D-printed.
He didn’t smoke or drink, so he rarely carried a worldly scent. When faint, it was like cold smoke; when strong, it was like pine mist. Even his post-coital scent carried the crisp aroma of cold pine and thin mist.
Shen Qianzhan had more than once had the urge to sniff the elusive yet intoxicating scent on his neck.
In the confined space of the elevator, her wish was finally granted. She secretly took two deep breaths of the “fairy air” and asked in a hushed voice, “Are the perfumes at your company, Bu Zhong Sui, all this nice?”
The elevator ascended, and amidst the humming sound of the motor, conversations gradually started.
Ji Qinghe leaned down accommodatingly, his cold, wet hair brushing against her nose. He put his ear close to her, signaling for her to repeat herself.
Shen Qianzhan was cursing inwardly.
If they weren’t in an elevator, she would definitely lose her composure right now.
She took a deep breath, mentally berating him as a “demonic charmer” while calmly saying, “It’s nothing. Let’s talk outside.”
Ji Qinghe curled his lips, pretending not to understand, and leaned in even closer: “I didn’t hear you.”
As he spoke, his breath brushed against her ear, causing a slight tickle and a familiar shiver that traveled from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, an electrifying sensation that coursed through her heart.
Shen Qianzhan, who had her first taste of passion at twenty-nine and was now thirty, already longed for the soul-shaking connection of an intense relationship. His deliberate teasing made her blood rush to her head, and she glared at him: “Behave yourself.”
Ji Qinghe let out a muffled chuckle, a hint of satisfaction in his successful provocation.
Ji Qinghe knew Shen Qianzhan’s three major weak points perfectly.
The first was her right ear, the second was her lower back, and the third... was unspeakable. Just as a snake has its vital point, a person has their vulnerabilities. With these three areas controlled, Shen Qianzhan could only submit to his will.
Their movements were small and tucked in a corner, so their hushed conversation didn’t attract any attention.
Shen Qianzhan, who was usually tough as old leather and oblivious to blushing, unexpectedly felt a bit thin-skinned today. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the whispers and glances around them were directed at her.
________________________________________
The elevator stopped on every floor. By the seventh floor, half the passengers had gotten off.
Shen Qianzhan had also reached her destination.
Ji Qinghe stepped out of the elevator before her and walked down the corridor. When the operating room at the end came into view, he paused and stopped, acting like a true gentleman: “The surgery should be over soon. This isn’t a good place for me to be, so I’ll see you off here.”
Shen Qianzhan had a deep understanding of his habitual restraint and politeness. She nodded gratefully: “Thank you, CEO Ji.”
Ji Qinghe could tell in an instant whether her thanks were sincere or superficial: “No need for false politeness.”
Shen Qianzhan was used to his counter-moves, and her smile became a little more genuine: “Don’t you need to go wait for Dr. Fei?”
“We have an appointment to meet in his office.” Ji Qinghe glanced at his watch and explained, “I came over just now because I heard Dr. Fei was still in surgery, so I came to check on the situation.”
Upon hearing this, Shen Qianzhan raised her eyebrows slightly.
Her features tended to be soft, so her eyebrow-raising motion had less of an intimidating effect and more of a charming one.
“Old Master Ji has been waiting all this time?”
“Yes,” Ji Qinghe said. “He came for a few check-ups this afternoon.”
He could tell what Shen Qianzhan was trying to ask. He met her gaze and said, “Not today. If you’re willing, I’ll arrange another time for a formal meeting.”
The second half of the sentence carried some weight. As she pondered the meaning of “formal,” she felt a rare sense of guilt.
Before she knew the relationship between Ji Qinghe and Old Master Ji, she had a face thicker than a city wall, asking him to come out again and again, completely oblivious to embarrassment. Now, with a golden opportunity in front of her, her mind was filled with “I’m sorry I slept with your grandson.”
Shen Qianzhan had a special trait—she was driven by self-interest. After considering the worst possible outcome, which was Old Master Ji breaking her legs, she yielded to the temptation of meeting with a master of court clock restoration. She nodded demurely: “Alright, I’ll wait for your arrangement.”
Ji Qinghe nodded, and a fleeting, deep smile, difficult to catch, passed through his eyes.
________________________________________
During the Lunar New Year holiday at home, Shen Qianzhan, with nothing to do, read through “The Chronicle of Bu Zhong Sui” that Su Zan had accidentally put together while investigating Ji Qinghe. The information collected online was incomplete, and she struggled to read it. Although she never fully understood the relationship between Ms. Meng Qiongzhi and Mr. Ji Qingzhen, she at least had a rough idea.
The records showed that Ms. Meng Qiongzhi was a talented socialite with a rich life experience. When girls of her age were still fumbling with their future plans, Ms. Meng Qiongzhi had already set her sights and clearly defined her goal, dedicating herself to a career in art and design, making a name for herself in Europe.
Online, there were only a few brief mentions of the story between Old Master Ji and Ms. Meng. After their relationship broke down, there was no trace of Ji Qingzhen in any interviews with Ms. Meng Qiongzhi. If Ji Qinghe hadn’t revealed his identity, Shen Qianzhan would have probably spent a lot of time trying to confirm the relationship.
After all, no one would have imagined that the founder of a global luxury brand would have a history with a master clock restorer of traditional Chinese art.
In summary, Shen Qianzhan came up with three possible reasons why Old Master Ji wanted to see her.
First, after the little rascal Ji Lin’s theft of the proposal was exposed, Old Master Ji found out that Ji Qinghe was working with her and wanted to meet to clear up the misunderstanding.
Second, Ji Qinghe, representing Bu Zhong Sui, invested in “Time,” and Old Master Ji decided to meet with her after hearing about the inspiration for the show.
Third, Old Master Ji found out that she had slept with Ji Qinghe and was here as the patriarch to demand an explanation.
With some mental preparation, it was easier to make a plan.
Shen Qianzhan’s mindset was optimistic, and she temporarily pushed the matter to the back of her mind.
________________________________________
Her grandfather’s heart bypass surgery was very successful. After the surgery, Dr. Fei left, and nearly half an hour later, the anesthetized grandfather was wheeled out of the operating room and taken to a hospital room for continued observation, accompanied by his family.
Old Shen and his wife had been there all afternoon and finally relaxed. After spending some time with him, and seeing that there was nothing more they could do, they decided not to take up space and get in the way. They went home with Shen Qianzhan, planning to visit again the next day.
Her grandfather had a caregiver and his children staying with him. In Shen Qianzhan’s opinion, this level of care didn’t need her mother’s help. But she couldn’t stop her mother’s deep affection, and as a junior, she didn’t feel right saying anything. So, the next day, she had to take the long way around to drop her mother off at the hospital before going to work.
Near noon, Ji Qinghe sent her a WeChat message: “Are you free tonight? My grandfather is flying back to Xi’an tomorrow.”
Shen Qianzhan thought about her schedule for the day... She suspected that Ji Qinghe had privately checked with Qiao Xin about her work arrangements. Otherwise, how could he be so certain that she would have time tonight?
She thought about it but replied: “Yes, send me the specific time and location.”
Ji Qinghe replied: “The courtyard next to the Time Hall.”
Shen Qianzhan’s eyelids twitched.
She had a better idea of how “formal” the meeting Ji Qinghe mentioned yesterday was—was it formal enough to bring her home?
But old people don’t like staying in hotels. Since there was a place to stay in Beijing, there was no need to go to a hotel just to meet a junior. What’s more, she often went to the homes of screenwriters, big directors, and artists in Beijing. It was no big deal.
It saved time and money!
With this in mind, Shen Qianzhan regained her spirits. After entrusting the task of picking up her mother to Comrade Old Shen, she left work early to prepare a gift for the meeting.
Thanks to her experience from last year, when she visited Old Master Ji three times to persuade him, Shen Qianzhan’s research was exceptionally thorough.
She bought two jars of beautifully packaged vintage wine, a stone inkstone, and a handmade silk scarf for Ms. Meng Qiongzhi. After all this, Shen Qianzhan finally felt a lot more at ease.
As the appointed time approached, Shen Qianzhan raced to the courtyard.
To show her full courtesy, she sent Ji Qinghe a message just before the last intersection to let him know she was about to arrive.
Ji Qinghe’s reply came quickly: “Be careful on the road.”
Shen Qianzhan’s heart felt a little calmer.
Just three seconds later, her phone, which was still navigating, vibrated again. Ji Qinghe had sent another message: “I’ll be waiting for you.”
Even though they were just three cold words, Shen Qianzhan inexplicably read a different kind of ambiguous meaning in them.
She looked up at the traffic.
The second half of the road was a bit congested due to a bus stop.
She absent-mindedly watched the slowly moving pedestrians and couldn’t help but bite her finger.
________________________________________
It was ten minutes later when she arrived at the Time Hall. Shen Qianzhan hadn’t been in touch with Meng Wangzhou for a long time and didn’t know if he was still waiting in his usual spot to park her car. She drove over tentatively to check, and in the only parking space in front of the Time Hall, there was a black antique-style bicycle.
A young man was sitting on the back seat.
He wasn’t in his usual cold, formal suit. He was wearing a solid-colored sweater with a dark coat over it, and his soft loungewear pants loosely covered the tops of his feet, giving him a lazy, gentle, and handsome appearance.
Only his unchanging gold-rimmed glasses made his features look as refined and calm as they usually did.
Shen Qianzhan’s little heart, which she could never control, skipped another beat. It was as if she’d been hit by a sniper, and her blood rushed backward.
What the hell, why wasn’t this scumbag a scumbag today? How could anyone handle him aging backward every day?