Xiao Yitong felt as if he had just stumbled into a cult—a cult called: everyone in the world already knows that the boss and Yu Ge are involved and the whole thing is under intense public scrutiny… except for him, the assistant, who somehow didn’t know a thing.
Still uneasy about Yu Ge and Boss Bo, Xiao Yitong couldn’t resist calling Director Huang Qian—the one who had recruited him in the first place—to double-check.
Huang Qian never expected such good fortune to fall from the sky! The identity of the CEO’s wife, which their little squad had never been able to confirm, had just been directly revealed! He was ecstatic. After listening to Xiao Yitong’s live recounting of all the gleaming “dog-abusing” moments, he and his office teammates couldn’t help but draw in a sharp breath.
Who would have thought Boss Bo was that kind of CEO? Simply amazing!
Huang Qian quickly formed a tracking squad and established a friendly, cooperative relationship with the whistleblower, Xiao Yitong, to infiltrate the “enemy” and secure first-hand information. The logistics team promptly prepared a mascot figurine for each member—and also gave a little gift to the thoughtful whistleblower. Truly, the whole office was celebrating!
Xiao Yitong was stunned by Huang Qian’s reaction. This was not how things were supposed to go. Wasn’t this the moment when he should have been scolded and warned that being close to the boss could be risky, that only good resources would fall to them if they played along, and that as an assistant, he shouldn’t know too much?
For the first time, Xiao Yitong wondered if he was taking things too seriously—maybe a bit out of step with the times. Had Yu Ge already become the company’s public mascot? Would carrying a figurine of him lead to promotions, raises, and marrying a wealthy beauty to become a winner in life?
Holding the warm honey water he had prepared for Yu Ge—as the boss had instructed before leaving—Xiao Yitong stared at Yu Junqing, who was radiant and fully in character on set, feeling a bit puzzled. Yu Ge was an actor, yes, but why drink this like a singer?
“Cut!” Wang Shilin called happily, and the cast immediately relaxed, some heading to the restroom, others for a drink, or a quick snack. Yu Junqing walked over to Xiao Yitong with a towel, wiping sweat from his face.
Even in winter, when he concentrated deeply, sweat always formed at his temples. Indoors, it was tolerable, but outside, the wind made it painfully cold.
Huh? Yu Junqing patted Xiao Yitong lightly. No response? His eyes were fixed on something… nothing there.
“Coming back to reality?” Yu Junqing asked carefully. Xiao Yitong blinked and finally came back to his senses.
Noticing that everyone else had dispersed for a break, Xiao Yitong hurriedly handed him the water and added politely:
“This is the warm honey water the boss asked me to prepare for you.”
Yu Junqing’s expression softened immediately, eyes full of sweetness. He opened the lid and took a sip; the warmth and the gentle sweetness of the honey water brought an involuntary bright smile to his face.
“What’s with that smile? You look silly,” Lin Qing teased as he stepped forward.
Lin Qing had something to discuss with Yu Junqing. By now, most of Yu Junqing’s scenes were nearly finished—maybe three to five days left at most.
“You only have a few more scenes left, right?” Lin Qing gestured for Xiao Yitong to fetch another chair. Xiao Yitong nodded and went efficiently.
“Yeah, just a few more scenes,” Yu Junqing replied. The last few scenes were basically the conclusion; soon, he’d be done.
“That’s good. There’s something I need your help with,” Lin Qing said, satisfied that Yu Junqing had time.
“What is it?” Yu Junqing asked, curious but nodding. He had recently checked Xiao Yitong’s schedule—after finishing these scenes, he’d have a short break.
“Nothing major. I plan to return to the country for a bit. I need you to stay on set temporarily to watch over Shilin for a few days. I’ll be back soon,” Lin Qing explained.
Yu Junqing hesitated. When Director Wang Jin first invited him, it had been the same story. From what he could tell, Wang Shilin didn’t actually need that much help. Even with Lin Qing around, his main job was to slightly relieve Shilin’s burden. The real heavy lifting? There was nothing he could actually help with.
Lin Qing noticed his hesitation. “Do you have other things to do after filming?” he asked.
Yu Junqing answered honestly.
“Haha, fair enough. You thinking that way isn’t wrong,” Lin Qing laughed. He knew Yu Junqing well enough to recognize that he shouldn’t have that sour expression. The young man was overthinking again.
“I didn’t mean that. I just mean—can you help watch Director Wang Jin a bit?” Lin Qing wiped his eyes, then clarified.
Yu Junqing understood. Director Wang Jin, being older and slightly erratic, sometimes overworked himself, and Shilin and Lin Qing often had to keep an eye on him. Lin Qing’s main concern, beyond coordinating international matters, was still keeping tabs on Wang Jin.
Yu Junqing broke into a sweat. This was the “help” Lin Qing needed?
“Not that I don’t want to help, but my current position is… tricky. You know how rumors spread in this industry,” Yu Junqing said, his tone a little chilly. He’d seen enough over the years to know that helping could backfire.
Lin Qing paused, then realized his request was indeed a bit unreasonable. He and Shilin hadn’t been in this circle before. Considering Yu Junqing’s friendship with Shilin, it had seemed straightforward—but he’d forgotten this other layer.
“That’s true, we didn’t think it through,” Lin Qing sighed. But he genuinely worried about Wang Jin.
Truthfully, Lin Qing and Shilin reuniting wouldn’t have been possible without the old man’s help. Since they had talked things through, Wang Jin’s attitude toward him had been exemplary, often leaving Shilin secretly envious and frustrated. Every time Lin Qing was around, it seemed like he’d been taken back by a father.
“Ah Qing, did your father say where he went today?” Wang Shilin suddenly asked, his face showing clear frustration.
“No, why? Something wrong?” Lin Qing shook his head.
“I tried calling him about post-filming promotions. Several calls went unanswered,” Shilin said, holding his phone.
“Impossible,” Lin Qing frowned and immediately dialed Wang Jin’s number.
The call went through, but nobody picked up.
“Maybe he fell asleep in his room?” Yu Junqing asked.
“Impossible!”
“Impossible!” Shilin and Lin Qing said in unison.
“Wang Jin is very responsible. On set, we only let him sleep six hours a day. He used to work several days straight without sleep,” Lin Qing explained.
“Oh…” Yu Junqing recalled Wang Jin’s reputation for being serious, not surprised. He could be sluggish mentally but instantly alert when filming.
“Your phone,” Xiao Yitong suddenly whispered, handing Yu Junqing the ringing device.
“It’s Rui Ge?” Yu Junqing called out.
“Yes, I’ve arranged for Director Wang Jin to be sent to your hotel lobby. Please pick him up,” Bo Rui said, rubbing his temple.
“Director Wang?” Yu Junqing exclaimed softly.
Lin Qing and Shilin exchanged glances; Yu Junqing silently gestured, “He’s in the lobby.”
Shilin hesitated, Lin Qing understood, and quickly went downstairs.
Bo Rui explained the situation to Yu Junqing. His team had followed Zhu Wen. Initially, nothing seemed off, but intuition kept him on the trail, and eventually, he tracked Zhu Wen to a hotel where Zhu Wen had arranged a meeting with Wang Jin.
——Visual divider——
Zhu Wen sat quietly at a hotel table, uninterested in the menu. The location was remote, and he wasn’t sure why Wang Jin had scheduled the shoot here. But it didn’t matter to him. He calmly ordered a little, waiting for his meeting.
He felt an unusual urgency, as if waiting even a second more could trigger something. He decided to proceed with his plan, especially since Bo Rui’s side was blocked.
Wang Jin received strange messages early in the morning. Initially thinking it was a prank, he ignored them. Repeated messages hinted at unrest in the crew, advising him to be cautious. Wang Jin, protective of his set, immediately felt uneasy.
Deciding to check things out, Wang Jin went to the agreed location. Zhu Wen had booked the inn’s innermost private room.
Upon entering, Wang Jin immediately noted that the young man in front of him had clearly undergone extensive cosmetic surgery; his facial lines were unnatural. He couldn’t immediately recognize him.
Seeing Wang Jin arrive on time, Zhu Wen estimated his plan was already 80% successful. He had learned by chance that Wang Jin intended Yu Junqing to play the lead in his final project—a role of critical importance. With leverage over Yu Junqing, Zhu Wen was confident Wang Jin wouldn’t trust him blindly and ruin the production.
Wang Jin studied the young man, noting a gleam of triumph in his eyes. His heart tightened. What was this person’s goal?
But Wang Jin, being experienced, didn’t speak first. Losing initiative was risky.
Zhu Wen didn’t mind who spoke first. As long as he had provoked Wang Jin, he didn’t care about the rest. He straightened his posture and greeted Wang Jin formally before speaking:
“You may wonder who I am, Director Wang, but my identity is not important. What matters is that I’ve admired your work for a long time. I’ve heard you’re filming the last project of your directing career, and I must share a few words with you.”
Wang Jin, hearing this earnest tone, was slightly exasperated. Young people were naive—he could usually discern sincerity from performance.
Zhu Wen continued:
“After seeing your press conference, I know this is your final project. I want to offer a reminder.”
Wang Jin’s brow furrowed slightly. Zhu Wen’s voice sounded familiar…
Zhu Wen didn’t notice and continued:
“A good production should be flawless. If there are flaws, they’re due to the script, not individual misconduct. Don’t you agree?”
Wang Jin’s heart skipped. Personal misconduct? He immediately thought of Shilin and Lin Qing. Squinting, he asked:
“Are you referring to personal relationships?”
Zhu Wen, realizing Wang Jin caught on, felt a surge of satisfaction. He was indirectly implying Yu Junqing’s involvement with a man.
But Wang Jin, unaware, worried instead that Shilin and Lin Qing’s private matters might be exposed. Exposure in China could harm careers, unlike abroad. His gaze toward Zhu Wen grew tense. This person claimed concern for the project but seemed fixated on Shilin and Lin Qing. What exactly did he want?
After a long monologue, Zhu Wen paused for tea. Wang Jin, feeling an uncanny familiarity, suddenly remembered…
“You’re Zhu Wen?” Wang Jin exclaimed.
Zhu Wen was startled—how had he been recognized? Wang Jin’s reaction confirmed it.
Wang Jin’s anger flared. When Yu Junqing tried to help him before, he hesitated—but now, Zhu Wen, ungrateful, was targeting Shilin and Lin Qing? What was his intention?
Zhu Wen, flustered, felt a surge of anger. Once his actor, now who was he to scold him? He clutched Wang Jin’s collar and raised a fist.
“Did he hit him?” Yu Junqing frowned, concerned if he should intervene.
“No, my team restrained him. He’s older and not in great shape, though his complexion isn’t good,” Bo Rui said, relieved.
“Rui Ge is the best,” Yu Junqing murmured, sending a little playful “muah” at his phone.
Bo Rui quietly rubbed his forehead, thinking: what was with this baby-like pampering? Daily, his hands itched… but this little treasure might just need a smack.