Shi Jianshu nodded repeatedly, animatedly complaining, “You don’t know! He promised to sign the contract for me, but now he still hasn’t! Just wait a bit—I’ll make sure the boss signs it!”
Qin Sizheng smiled, still unsure if he himself could even return to the entertainment industry; his contract was with Shengyu, and even Ming Fei’s influence might not be enough.
“It’s fine,” Qin Sizheng said, standing to head to the kitchen while asking if he wanted noodles.
Shi Jianshu happily agreed to anything. Opening the fridge, he saw the pile of washed fruits An Ning had left, grabbed them, and stuffed them into his mouth one by one.
Qin Sizheng felt like he was seeing his little brother from the orphanage again and couldn’t help scolding him lightly. “Don’t eat so much. The fridge’s stuff is cold. You’ll get a stomachache on an empty stomach.”
Shi Jianshu obediently set down the bowl, licking his lips as he looked at the pot. “Si Zeng, it smells so good.”
“Move over a bit, don’t burn yourself.” Qin Sizheng covered the pot and paused for a moment before carefully asking, “Are you close with Ming Fei? Did you go to his house yesterday for the contract?”
Shi Jianshu shook his head. “No. The boss told me to check out his abs. Do you know? His abs are super eye-catching, and really hard, feels amazing.”
He said this while lifting his own shirt a little.
Qin Sizheng’s brow twitched. Ming Fei brought someone home late at night just to… show off his abs? Was he crazy, or was Shi Jianshu just too innocent to act?
“What are you thinking?” Shi Jianshu asked.
Qin Sizheng tugged down his shirt, still unsure how to keep him away from Ming Fei. What if something already happened, or Shi Jianshu wasn’t as innocent as he appeared?
Since Lu Xianqing knew Ming Fei better, Qin Sizheng decided to ask him later.
For now, he set the matter aside and served a bowl of noodles at the table, watching Shi Jianshu eat enthusiastically, even finishing the broth.
“Hic!”
Qin Sizheng cleaned up the dishes and returned them to the cupboard. When he came back, Shi Jianshu was sprawled on the sofa, clutching the TV remote, flipping channels frantically.
“Watching something?”
Shi Jianshu’s eyes lit up. “Here we go.”
Qin Sizheng brushed back his hair and sat beside him. The TV showed a singing competition. Shi Jianshu, dressed in punk style, with exaggerated tattoo stickers on his neck, held the microphone and tilted his head back to sing.
His voice was clear and piercing, as if it could tear through the clouds, full of explosive power.
“Amazing! So amazing!” Shi Jianshu snuggled against Qin Sizheng’s arm, insisting he praise him. Qin Sizheng, helpless against his antics, said, “Amazing, you’re the best.”
Shi Jianshu beamed proudly. Qin Sizheng’s eyes lit up with an idea. “Do you want to learn boxing?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Shi Jianshu bounced up, accidentally pulling a few strands of hair, yelping in pain. Qin Sizheng quickly rubbed his head. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I’m fine!” Shi Jianshu said excitedly, asking when they could start.
Qin Sizheng replied, “First you teach me singing. Once you’ve taught me, I’ll teach you boxing.”
Shi Jianshu let out a long, drawn-out “Ah,” complaining, “You and the boss always negotiate first. Fine, I’ll teach you, but no backing out, okay?”
Qin Sizheng silently cursed Ming Fei again, then grabbed boxing gloves from behind the sofa and placed them on the table. “No backing out.”
“Then let’s start!”
Despite his seemingly innocent appearance, Shi Jianshu had a natural talent for singing. Ming Fei had provided him with the best teachers, nurturing him to the highest standards. Unlike Qin Sizheng and other “black sheep” in the industry, Shi Jianshu had mostly kind, well-controlled fans and no negative news.
“There was a wrong note here, repeat from the start,” Shi Jianshu said, impressively strict about singing. By the end of the morning, Qin Sizheng was exhausted but noticed his own rapid improvement.
“Keep practicing, and you’ll be ready for a concert!”
Qin Sizheng, too tired to talk, was amused by Shi Jianshu. “Then every day I’ll make you tomato and egg noodles.”
Shi Jianshu didn’t understand the joke. Qin Sizheng patted his head. “Everyone was tossing tomatoes and eggs at me, making me leave quickly, not hurt their ears.”
“Not gonna happen! Si Zeng is amazing!”
By noon, Qin Sizheng went to make lunch. Just as they were eating, Lu Xianqing’s call came. Upon seeing Shi Jianshu’s face, his expression darkened. “What’s he doing at your place?”
Shi Jianshu leaned over. “Good afternoon, Senior Brother Lu. Si Zeng made me something delicious. Have you eaten?”
Qin Sizheng gently moved Shi Jianshu’s head aside to prevent Lu Xianqing from getting more upset. Shi Jianshu still wanted to speak, but Lu Xianqing’s teasing, half-smile half-threat made Qin Sizheng’s scalp tingle.
“Be good. Go eat first. Afterward, rest a bit and I’ll teach you boxing,” Qin Sizheng said, patting Shi Jianshu’s head to hurry him along—otherwise he’d be the one in trouble.
Qin Sizheng saw Shi Jianshu off and turned back to the camera, firing questions rapidly: “Did you go to see Dr. Shen? What did he say? Are you feeling uncomfortable now?”
Lu Xianqing replied, “Shen Qing said I don’t need to go. My Yan Yan is a special medicine.”
Qin Sizheng’s face lit up in surprise. “Really?”
“But…”
His smile froze instantly, anxiety creeping in as he waited for the rest of the sentence. Lu Xianqing let out a cold snort. “That little rascal came to our house? You taught him boxing? Let him behave? Pat his head? Qin Sizheng, the moment I leave, you’re already touching someone else.”
Qin Sizheng knew how possessive he was and quickly coaxed him, “I just had him teach me singing. Learning boxing was a courtesy. Patting his head was just to get him to leave and talk to you—don’t be jealous.”
Lu Xianqing still looked displeased. “What if I were on the phone with you and touched someone else’s head, making them behave? Would you be angry?”
Qin Sizheng wanted to say he wouldn’t, but seeing Lu Xianqing’s expression, he quickly twisted his words. “Angry. Very angry. So you’re not allowed to pat anyone else’s head to make them behave.”
Seeing him genuinely humbled, Lu Xianqing suppressed a smile and forced out a mix of grievance and pain, lowering his voice as he apologized: “Yan Yan, I know my possessiveness is too strong. You might find it annoying. I’ll try not to be jealous in the future. You two eat, I’ll sleep a bit before filming.”
Qin Sizheng glanced at the time and asked hurriedly, “Have you eaten?”
He blinked, looking forlorn. “Not very hungry. I’ll eat after filming. Don’t wait for me tonight—I have a night shoot to reshoot some scenes.”
If he didn’t eat now, he wouldn’t finish until at least nine after the night shoot. Qin Sizheng’s heart ached. She whispered, lowering her voice: “I’m not annoyed. I… like your possessiveness. I’m sorry. I won’t pat anyone else’s head again.”
Lu Xianqing gave a faint, unenergetic “Mm.” An Ning, watching nearby, gritted his teeth, wanting to jump over and tell Qin Sizheng, Your boyfriend is a top actor! Don’t trust him!
Qin Sizheng saw he still seemed drained. A few days ago, when Shi Jianshu had asked him to touch his abs, he had been punished almost to exhaustion for it—though he hadn’t even touched them then. Now seeing it with his own eyes, it was no wonder he was jealous.
Feeling increasingly guilty, Qin Sizheng softened his voice further. “I… I’ll play with the doll for you tonight. No more jealousy, okay?”
Lu Xianqing blinked, momentarily surprised. When he left, he had only suggested using the doll to tease him, wanting to see him blush and cuddle up—just claiming a little advantage.
He hadn’t expected Qin Sizheng to be so willing to yield. Lu Xianqing’s mood lifted, almost like a young man newly in love, itching to run around to release his excitement, veins standing out in his gripping hand.
An Ning, though not hearing the last sentence, could tell from Lu Xianqing’s expression that he was teasing Qin Sizheng. He whispered under his breath, “Old rascal!”
“Si Zeng! Aren’t you done with your call yet? I’ve finished eating!” Shi Jianshu knocked on the door from outside.
Qin Sizheng blushed, quickly waving goodbye to the camera. “See you tonight.”
On the day of Xi Ling’s concert, Shen Changfeng arrived early, holding a box.
“For you.”
He helped Qin Sizheng open it, revealing a tailored suit that highlighted youthful energy—an exquisite balance of restrained black and adolescent flair, clearly valuable. Qin Sizheng immediately knew who it was from.
He opened his phone and sent Ye Xu a message on WeChat: Thank you, Mommy. Please don’t send anything like this in the future; it’s too much trouble. I have enough clothes.
Shen Changfeng noticed the familiar nickname and raised an eyebrow; it was coming along quite naturally.
Ye Xu was probably busy and didn’t reply immediately. Qin Sizheng and Shen Changfeng tidied up, changed, and headed to Xi Ling’s concert venue.
The staff were surprised to see him, radiantly healthy and unaffected by the recent scandal that had surrounded him just days ago.
“Where’s Xi Ling?”
The staff guided him backstage. “This way, Teacher Qin.”
Xi Ling was discussing makeup with the stylist. The concert required a more exaggerated look, and he felt something was missing. Qin Sizheng suggested, “Add a red tie on the arm?”
Xi Ling slapped his thigh. “Brilliant!”
His arm muscles became more defined, the red band accentuating the lines, while the stylist extended a red streak at the corner of his eyes, adding strength and tension.
Knock knock.
Xi Ling turned and smiled. “Uncle.”
Qin Sizheng turned to see a middle-aged man in a slate-gray suit, serious and with a long scar down the right side of his face.
Xi Ling introduced him, “This is my uncle Han Zhang, in charge of security for this concert. Qin Sizheng, you should know him.”
Qin Sizheng shook his hand politely.
Xi Ling looked him over, then shrugged, jokingly noting a resemblance. “I feel like Sizheng looks a bit like you, especially the eyes—could it be…”
Han Zhang scowled. “Xi Ling!”
Xi Ling immediately raised his hands in surrender, grabbed his gloves, and dashed off. “I’m going on stage!”
Qin Sizheng smiled awkwardly at Han Zhang, who studied him a moment longer before nodding and leaving.
Qin Sizheng finally went onstage for the concert’s final third. Backstage, he watched Xi Ling, who was dazzling under the lights, sweat glistening as fans below screamed and waved passionately for him.
He watched, completely absorbed, thinking of how his little Qin strings had always cheered for him the same way—no matter what happened, steadfastly trusting him, supporting him without asking for anything in return, with the only wish being for his well-being.
Qin Sizheng felt a sting in his eyes; sometimes he wondered whether he truly deserved to be loved so much by them. After all, he had done nothing for them in return.
Shen Changfeng, sensing what he was thinking, quietly observed the concert and said softly amid the roar of the crowd, “Your very existence is the greatest fortune for them. And it’s not true that you’ve done nothing for them.”
Qin Sizheng turned his head.
Shen Changfeng pointed to his collar. “You carry them in your heart, every single moment.”
Qin Sizheng realized the truth of it and smiled.
At that moment, Xi Ling had just finished a few songs and, catching his breath, leaned to the side and grinned at the fans. “I have a mysterious guest tonight—guess who it is! I promise, you won’t expect it!”
The crowd erupted in unison: “Qin Sizheng!”
Xi Ling froze. “?”
Qin Sizheng also blinked in surprise. “?”
Xi Ling scratched his head. “I thought I hid it so well! How do you all know? I’m so embarrassed. Pretend you don’t know!”
Laughter thundered across the tens of thousands in the open-air venue. Xi Ling finally, with no suspense left, called the “mystery guest” onto the stage.
Meanwhile, Lu Xianqing, taking a break from filming, accepted the water An Ning handed him and took a couple of sips to soothe his throat, then bent his head for the makeup artist to wipe his sweat and touch up his makeup.
The production had been plagued with setbacks, stopping twice, and the crew was tense under Zhou Changjiang’s constant scrutiny. The moment Lu Xianqing returned, he was scolded for over ten minutes.
Knowing he was in the wrong, he didn’t argue, enduring the lecture quietly. Zhou Changjiang eventually dismissed him with a curt, “Work overtime, finish filming this movie as soon as possible!”
Lu Xianqing had smirked, “Just shoot casually?”
Zhou Changjiang glared, “Ensure quality while you’re at it!”
That morning’s shoot was grueling. Only Lu Xianqing could withstand the pressure; others grumbled quietly but dared not speak, burying themselves in concentration, afraid of being scolded.
After the makeup artist left, An Ning took back the cup and murmured, “Still no response over there? Are they really planning to make this a fight to the end? Even if it means sleeping on the street, they won’t let you have it easy.”
Lu Xianqing let out a disdainful smile. “They’d better have that backbone.”
An Ning pursed her lips, eyes filled with discontent and frustration. Just thinking of Qin Sizheng suffering such injustice at Shengyu made her want to tear Xu Zhiliang apart.
“The studio situation is already being handled by He Xing,” An Ning continued. “For appearances, you should at least give the boss a courtesy call. It’s mostly symbolic, but better than stirring trouble. The boss is a bit… eccentric. Offer a sweet gesture, and the paperwork will be smoother.”
Lu Xianqing nodded slightly. Zhou Changjiang happened to walk by; Lu Xianqing gave An Ning a look, and she wisely fell silent.
“Preparing to separate from the studio?” Zhou Changjiang asked.
Lu Xianqing didn’t hide anything. “Mm,” he said with a smile, “Film more with me in the future. Gotta support the family.”
Zhou Changjiang studied him, his tone firm yet carrying a hint of sincere advice: “Take care of him. That kid looks obedient and soft, but he’s stubborn as hell, just like you. If you’re serious, learn to temper yourself. Don’t always bully him—you’ve had a hard road yourself.”
Lu Xianqing, usually not one for words of instruction, nodded at this. “Got it.”