HYAT - 48

Ji Qinghe’s words were so seamless that Shen Qianzhan was momentarily taken aback. After she figured out what he meant, she first raised her eyebrows, then smiled dismissively, simply assuming he was joking.

But when Shen Qianzhan turned to him, trying to brush it off with a casual smile as she would in any other similar situation, she realized that Ji Qinghe seemed serious.

He was still focused on the road, his jaw slightly tense. He wasn’t smiling or even sparing her a side glance. His expression was serious, and the lines of his profile were as if they had been drawn with a paintbrush, possessing a natural, artistic quality.

His appearance was cold. When he wasn’t speaking, unless he made a conscious effort, no one would ever associate the words “approachable” or “friendly” with Ji Qinghe’s face.

The last time Shen Qianzhan had seen him with that look was when they were signing the contract earlier in the year. Back then, his entire demeanor was one of cold, professional seriousness.

She had always felt that she couldn’t read Ji Qinghe. He was deep and cunning, and when he was plotting against someone, he left no trace. In every confrontation, she not only came out on the losing end but also fell into traps he had set up at some point, always ending up in a sorry state.

This time was different.

He didn’t put on any pretense or give off any strong signals. He simply and directly told her his attitude—he wasn’t joking.

Subconsciously, Shen Qianzhan began to retrace every scene in her mind from the moment she had stepped into the courtyard that afternoon.

From Old Master Ji’s friendly demeanor toward her, to Ms. Meng Qiongzhi turning around to speak to her in front of the stove, to the final farewell scene.

Old Master Ji’s personal curiosity about her was only evident during the short walk from the main house to the kitchen. Ms. Meng never directly asked for her personal information, always maintaining the politeness and distance one would show to a guest.

She parted her lips, wanting to say something, but the atmosphere in the car had been sent back to the same awkward silence as when they had first gotten in, all because of Ji Qinghe’s words.

They drove in silence to the parking lot. Before getting out of the car, Ji Qinghe turned down the music to a volume suitable for conversation: “You don’t need to worry about anything. They still think I’m in the early stages of a crush and won’t have any particular opinion of you.”

This kind of topic had always been a sensitive one between Shen Qianzhan and Ji Qinghe.

Normally, with Shen Qianzhan’s personality, she would have responded with a sarcastic retort, whether she meant it or not. She would have definitely shown a stubborn attitude. But today’s situation was a bit unusual.

She couldn’t lie to herself about what had happened behind the screen. While Ji Qinghe might have lost control for a moment, she had not only failed to push him away, but she had also enjoyed that suspended, heart-stopping feeling, followed by the sudden, rapid loss of control.

Her nature still craved the sense of being adored, desired, and possessed, especially when the person was Ji Qinghe—the one who had broken down her defenses and with whom she was willing to share such intimacy.

She quickly tried to think of how to respond to him.

Saying “I didn’t take it to heart” would sound weak. Retorting with “Why should I worry?” would seem frivolous. For the first time, Shen Qianzhan felt the air in the car was thin.

Fortunately, a phone call came at the perfect time, rescuing her from her predicament.

Shen Qianzhan said, “Just a moment,” and looked at the caller ID. Seeing it was Su Zan, she quickly found an excuse: “Su Zan is probably calling me about the script.”

Ji Qinghe nodded, signaling for her to take the call.

Shen Qianzhan didn’t answer. She let the phone vibrate, pretending to have completely forgotten what they were just talking about, and said, “Thank you to Old Master Ji and Ms. Meng for the dinner tonight. Please pass on my thanks to them again.”

Ji Qinghe turned to look at her.

He was calm, even a bit amused. The expression on his face implied, “Let’s see what you come up with next.”

Shen Qianzhan was unbothered and asked him, “When are you going back to Xi’an?”

“It’s not set yet,” Ji Qinghe paused and said, “Ming Jue will handle it. I’ll have him notify you in advance.”

With that, he rubbed his lip with his thumb and his voice lowered slightly: “Is tomorrow Thursday?”

The phone’s vibration stopped, and Shen Qianzhan subconsciously looked down at the screen to check the time: “Yes, it’s Thursday.”

Ji Qinghe seemed to think for a few seconds: “Something came up for me tomorrow. I won’t be attending the script meeting. Have Su Zan send the audio and text files of the meeting minutes directly to Ming Jue.”

The excuse of “something came up” was so insincere that if his tone hadn’t been so flat and emotionless, Shen Qianzhan would have thought her lack of tact had angered him.

She was slightly stunned but didn’t show it on her face, and she readily agreed. After watching Ji Qinghe leave, she stood there for a moment, completely bewildered.

Did this scumbag not want to see her tomorrow, so he “had something come up”?

Or did he get what he wanted and now finds her uninteresting again?

No, that couldn’t be right.

Ji Qinghe’s goal couldn’t be satisfied with just a kiss, could it? That seems too casual.

________________________________________

The sudden change in the scumbag was so great that Shen Qianzhan spent the entire night wondering at what point his psychology had gone astray.

When she realized how much time she had wasted on this trivial matter, Shen Qianzhan felt as if she had been hit over the head, and she woke up.

Shen Qianzhan, who had a restless night, woke up the next day with a splitting headache. All she could see was a gloomy sky. The tall buildings in the distance were shrouded in a gray haze, making it difficult to discern what was real and what was not.

She lay in bed for a while, and only when her mother came in to urge her to get up, seeing she was still in bed, did she finally get up for work, holding her heavy head.

When her father drove her downstairs, he looked worried: “The weather forecast says there’s another cold front coming. It’s almost the Lantern Festival. Don’t get stuck in Beijing and be unable to get home.”

Shen Qianzhan pressed the floor button and joked, “Are you tired of seeing me and in a hurry to go back home?”

“Nonsense,” her father laughed and scolded her: “You’re so petty. I can’t even say anything without you complaining. I’m just worried about the fish in the backyard pond.”

This year’s spring weather was abnormal. A while ago, there were snowstorms in various places, and relief fundraisers were held one after another. It was no wonder her father was anxious. Shen Qianzhan didn’t take it too seriously. She soothed him with a few words and drove off to work.

The script meeting was scheduled for the afternoon. This was partly to accommodate Jiang Juanshan and Lin Qiao, who lived far apart, one in the south of the city and one in the north. It was also to accommodate Ji Qinghe’s schedule. Shen Qianzhan had communicated with Ming Jue several times and knew that Ji Qinghe was busiest in the morning, so they always coordinated for the afternoon.

Now that he was absent, Shen Qianzhan didn’t feel the need to reschedule. She instructed Qiao Xin to take detailed minutes, and the meeting started promptly at 3 p.m.

The creative team they had assembled, including both Jiang Juanshan and Lin Qiao, were not inexperienced screenwriting novices. Lin Qiao and Shen Qianzhan, in particular, had a great working chemistry from their previous collaborations, and they confirmed the direction of the script’s revisions in just one hour.

During the break, Su Zan went downstairs to buy coffee and brought Su Lanyi back with him, who sat in on the second half of the script meeting.

After the meeting ended, Su Lanyi was quite interested. Not only did she ask for the meeting minutes, but she also requested the screenwriters to create a proposal in a PowerPoint presentation outlining the creative direction and inspiration.

After assigning the “homework,” she noticed the heavy snow outside and offered to have the company’s business car drive the screenwriters home.

Jiang Juanshan, who had driven his own car, politely declined. Seeing that everyone’s eyes were on Lin Qiao, he smiled and answered for her, “No need to trouble you. It’s on my way.”

Seeing that the two weren’t just being polite, Su Lanyi gave up and had Su Zan take them downstairs.

Once the small conference room was empty, the sound of the equipment running became particularly clear.

Shen Qianzhan was reviewing the meeting minutes while recording the file. Qiao Xin turned off the projector and came over to organize the meeting documents.

Su Lanyi sat for a while. Perhaps finding it too quiet, she flipped through the printed pages of the outline on the table and asked Shen Qianzhan about her next steps.

“The outline and the first episode’s script will be finalized this month,” Shen Qianzhan said, quickly scrolling with her mouse: “The collaboration between Mr. Jiang and Lin Qiao is a perfect fit, and they’re working faster than I expected. If we continue at this pace, we can put the start of filming on the agenda soon.”

Shen Qianzhan’s work pace was notoriously brutal, and the difficulty of her projects was no exaggeration.

Su Lanyi had always been hands-off in this regard. She elegantly finished flipping through the outline and nodded in approval: “Are you leaning toward Shao Chou Xie as the director?”

Shen Qianzhan didn’t answer immediately. She beckoned to Qiao Xin and took a USB drive from her: “Su Zan is interested in cinematography. He edited a few clips of Director Shao’s classic scenes a while ago.” She turned her computer screen to Su Lanyi and opened the video player.

Su Lanyi noticed a file on her desktop named “Ji Qinghe” and raised an eyebrow: “What’s this?”

Shen Qianzhan followed her gaze and explained: “It’s a file related to CEO Ji.”

When she was working on the contract with Bu Zhong Sui at the end of last year, Shen Qianzhan personally oversaw several revisions. To make it easy to access, she had kept it on her desktop. Later, as their collaboration progressed and more documents and messages were exchanged, she often just dragged files and images into this folder.

Su Lanyi had just asked casually. After hearing the explanation, she took a closer look and laughed: “You and CEO Ji are both quite interesting. One has a dedicated folder on their desktop for the other, and the other is only interested in your topics at the dinner table.”

The mouse cursor on the video file slowed down. Shen Qianzhan looked up at Su Lanyi.

The latter gently shrugged, saying in a gossipy tone: “After Xiang Qianqian left Qiandeng, she invited me and CEO Ji to a dinner.”

Shen Qianzhan had heard Su Zan mention this. She had even bitten her nail down to the quick at the time, so the memory was very clear: “I never saw you care about Xiang Qianqian much when she was at her peak at Qiandeng, but now that she’s left, you’re having dinner with her?”

“If I had known she was the one arranging it, there’s no way I would have gone.”

When Xiang Qianqian was trying to leave Qiandeng, she had severely offended Su Lanyi. Su Lanyi originally had no intention of letting her off the hook easily. Not to mention whether Xiang Qianqian could successfully leave, the lawsuit alone could have dragged on for a year or two. If Ji Qinghe hadn’t intervened, the matter would never have ended so amicably.

“That old fox Jiang Yecheng arranged the meeting for her. I thought it was another opportunity to make some money. I went and just watched how greasy Jiang Yecheng was. It was really disgusting.” Su Lanyi shook her head, her tone full of disdain: “I was about to leave when CEO Ji finally arrived. He didn’t have to give Mr. Jiang face. He glanced at the room, didn’t even sit down, just stood there for a moment, and said that since not everyone was there, he didn’t want to waste his time.”

“Mr. Jiang was stunned and asked who else wasn’t there.” She took a sip from her straw and looked at Shen Qianzhan with a knowing glance.

Well.

She didn’t need to name anyone. Su Lanyi’s look clearly pointed to her.

Shen Qianzhan’s expression didn’t change. She clicked on the video, her tone even calmer than Su Lanyi’s: “I can’t believe my name is enough to fool a big shot like that now.”

Su Lanyi laughed: “Did I tell you before?” Her features were bright and beautiful, and when she stared at someone, it was very intense: “I just love seeing that little look on your face when you refuse to admit anything. It’s so attractive.”

“Do you really think CEO Ji shows up for just anyone?” Su Lanyi rested her chin on her hand and said with a playful smile: “I think you’ve gotten spoiled.”