“You guys… you’re still too impulsive. But since it’s already happened, let it go. I’m not without the ability to handle these messy situations for you.” Wang Jin’s tone carried a faint frustration, as if disappointed in someone for being stubborn. But the second half of his sentence was clearly not directed at his beloved son—it was aimed at his treasured daughter-in-law.
Wang Shilin noticed too, though the more he listened, the more uneasy he felt. He glanced at Lin Qing, sitting by his father’s bedside with a mischievous smile, and then at his father, who was grinning like a Buddha. Who, really, was the biological son here?
Why did his father insist on staying in the hospital those extra two days like a stubborn bull, yet soften immediately when Lin Qing casually offered a peeled piece of fruit?
Yu Junqing stood at the doorway, quietly gossiping with Bo Rui as they watched inside.
Apparently, the events from yesterday had eventually reached Director Wang, but his reaction surprised everyone. To Wang Shilin’s string of complaints, Director Wang accepted them all publicly and even spoke frankly: his son was still young and hot-headed. It was his first time directing himself on set, and he got publicly embarrassed by an actress. If he had endured it, he probably wouldn’t want to direct again.
Moreover, Director Wang continued, since he only stayed a day in the hospital due to discomfort, some people immediately stirred trouble. The meaning was clear: such temperamental actors were a liability the crew couldn’t afford.
The media didn’t expect Director Wang to take such a sharp stance against Yun Qi. Their impression of him was always “nice guy,” “honest,” “meticulous”—seeing him publicly slight someone was rare.
Soon, a few directors familiar with him came forward to back him up. The media realized there was nothing more to write; with that many allies, they had to be careful.
A popular blogger even posted a new update, expressing deep support for both Director Wang and his son, and admiration for the younger Wang’s decisive approach. They speculated he might become a second director with the same rigor and dedication as Wang Jin.
Yu Junqing, finishing his recount, couldn’t help glancing at Wang Jin on the bed. He whispered to Bo Rui, “I feel like there’s still a knot between them. Look at Wang Jin—he’s smiling, but his movements around Lin Qing are a bit stiff, right?”
Bo Rui looked and agreed.
Wang Jin awkwardly adjusted a few things, feeling unsettled. He realized that having his son and this man by his side, he couldn’t be completely at ease.
He understood well that his son returned to stay near him, rather than remaining abroad, partly due to his wife’s guidance and partly due to his health.
Seeing Lin Qing speak politely and confidently, clearly well-educated, gave Wang Jin a sense of relief.
When Shilin first brought him over, Wang Jin almost thought this was about someone coming out. He worried for his son caught in the middle and instinctively called Lin Qing his daughter-in-law—but upon reflection, he hadn’t yet fully understood this young man.
At first, Wang Jin thought his son held grudges and hadn’t dared to ask. Later, seeing a photo of Shilin with this young man, so close and radiant, revealed the deep affection between them. Having filmed countless dramas and observed countless interactions, he recognized the bond immediately.
Wang Jin’s thoughts swirled, yet his face remained gentle. He knew a child’s future belonged to them alone. He could lend a hand, but he had no right to impose a path.
Bo Rui observed Wang Jin’s unease, thinking, “The father feels guilty; the son is oblivious.” But his focus wasn’t inside the room—he worried about Junqing being dragged into scandal by coming to the hospital.
Yu Junqing, oblivious to Bo Rui’s concern, studied the strange energy among the three people inside. Did Lin Qing already notice? His overly attentive demeanor seemed unnatural even from the doorway.
Lin Qing ignored Wang Shilin’s impatient glances. Bearing pressure from all directions, he continued speaking with Wang Jin. He wasn’t naïve—he had noticed the subtle stiffness in Wang Jin’s movements.
Had it not been for the idiot standing behind him, he wouldn’t have bothered putting on such a refined, polished act. Observing the transition in Wang Jin’s expression—from awkwardness to genuine praise and relief—he too relaxed slightly.
He knew well the hardest part of this path: parental acceptance.
Thanks to Lin Qing’s eloquence, he could convince his parents—grateful that his family were mostly educated and sincere, not narrow-minded scholars. His grandfather had even almost paired romantically with a foreign intellectual while studying abroad, so coming out wasn’t met with hysteria or rejection.
But it didn’t come without cost. Glancing at Yu Junqing, he recalled leaving abruptly earlier—thankfully Junqing hadn’t said anything.
After coming out, his family had made one thing clear: once he inherited the family business, he could make his own decisions.
Recalling his early years abroad, Lin Qing remembered sleepless nights and constant effort.
Annoyed, he turned sharply to glare at Wang Shilin. Shilin, caught off guard, stared at Lin Qing, puzzled.
“Uncle, we’ll head back. You rest a few more days.” Lin Qing judged the timing and bid farewell, recognizing Wang Jin’s inexperience with a son-in-law.
Wang Jin nodded; indeed, the crew couldn’t be left unattended too long.
“Oh, Lin Qing, you said you came back to help Shilin? Will you be returning?” Wang Jin asked, unable to hold back.
The period Shilin had spent back home was still fresh in his mind. Seeing this well-mannered, successful young man now, he wondered if his family would approve—perhaps that had prompted his return. Wang Jin felt a strange sense of pride.
Wang Shilin, hearing this, realized too, standing at the door pretending not to listen, but keenly attentive.
Lin Qing found their behavior peculiar—why were these two acting this way?
He suddenly remembered: he hadn’t told Wang Shilin that he’d come out to his family… yet.
Hesitating, he glanced at someone’s alert ears and smiled mischievously, looking at Wang Jin with all the theatrics he could muster.
“I… I’ll stay for now. We’ll see later…” He said, as if struck, and hurried out.
Wang Jin gave a playful kick to his “little rascal,” signaling him to chase.
Wang Shilin, jolted by his father’s nudge, realized he had no choice but to follow—Lin Qing had just returned to the country, and losing him now would truly break him.
Yu Junqing, watching from the sidelines, silently admired Wang Shilin’s plight.
“Brother Rui, was he acting just now?” Junqing whispered to Bo Rui after following from another angle.
“Yes,” Bo Rui confirmed. Though the father and son were in the midst of it, Lin Qing was clearly performing.
Junqing, knowing Lin Qing well, understood the quiet grudge he held. Back in school, he had been the target of constant gossip, yet had handled it with icy precision. Despite his genteel appearance, Lin Qing’s methods were far from innocent.
Junqing lingered a moment, while Bo Rui noticed the restless crowd around them—doctors and nurses quietly recognizing Junqing.
A young nurse in pink mustered courage. “Are you… Junqing? I love your drama! Can you… sign this?” She stammered, aware of the gazes fixed upon them, trembling with a mix of fear and excitement.
Junqing smiled warmly. “Sure, give it here.” He signed quickly.
The nurse, thrilled, decided from that moment to be his loyal fan. She was awestruck by his beauty, warmth, and sunlit demeanor.
It had been a long time since he signed anything; his fingers moved with faint unfamiliarity. Bo Rui noticed the fleeting complexity on Junqing’s face.
Watching the crowd ready to surge, Bo Rui subtly squeezed Junqing’s hand. Junqing remained calm, quietly instructing the young nurse. She successfully held back the crowd as he and Bo Rui headed for the elevator.
“Hurry, Rui!” Junqing whispered, a mischievous grin on his face.
Bo Rui, slower due to lack of fitness, eventually dragged him into the elevator. They saw the nurse standing her ground, smiling at Junqing.
“Troublemaker,” Bo Rui panted, shaking his head.
“Hehe, forgot,” Junqing sheepishly rubbed his nose. Despite his disguise, someone had recognized him.
“Just wait,” Bo Rui said, lowering the hat further, then immediately started making calls.
He quickly instructed Huang Qian’s team, ensuring that the day would proceed smoothly.
Huang Qian received the first private instruction from the boss and, after hanging up, shouted, “We’ve got ‘dog food’!”
“What?” The busy subordinates were confused—dog food? They were single, but this wasn’t the kind of nourishment they needed.
Huang Qian explained while managing the team. They began their research, verifying Junqing’s photos online, noticing none had leaked. Likely, all hospital staff involved were private, making containment easier.
Bo Rui reviewed the situation, satisfied. As long as operations maintained this standard, his company’s efforts weren’t wasted.
Watching Junqing quickly fall asleep on the bed, Bo Rui gently pinched his cheek. He wondered how long it would be before they could reveal their relationship publicly.