Of course, Ning Rong knew what kind of ‘like’ she meant.
She sighed. “I do like him, but not the way you’re thinking. It’s the sister-for-brother kind of like. So don’t worry.”
Sister Wei: ???
Sister Wei felt even less reassured.
“Brother?”
Ning Rong didn’t want to elaborate. She lightly pushed her shoulder. “Yes, brother—the little brother in the sibling sense.”
She guided her to the door. “I’m going to sleep. You should rest early too.”
“Oh, and…” As she was closing the door, Ning Rong remembered something. “Don’t tell my brother yet. You’re my manager—you follow my instructions.”
Sister Wei: …
Sister Wei felt overwhelmed, and yet her artist didn’t seem concerned at all.
“Do you think I can rest easy hearing that?”
Ning Rong blinked. “When the time comes, I’ll tell him myself.”
Sister Wei: …
Ning Rong waved. “Good night.”
With a ‘click,’ she closed the door.
Sister Wei: …
All night, Sister Wei kept pondering the relationship between Pei Qingjian and Ning Rong. Even in her dreams, she sat behind an interrogation desk, Ning Rong and Pei Qingjian in front, scrutinizing them, wishing she could figure them out completely.
Pei Qingjian, of course, had no idea. After sending Zhou Pengyue off, he reviewed the script a bit more, then went to bed, ready for the first day of filming tomorrow.
The next morning, Shall We Marry? officially began filming.
Since it wasn’t an idol drama and didn’t rely on social media traffic, the production team didn’t rush to announce it publicly. After the opening ceremony, they immediately dove into shooting.
Pei Qingjian, having changed into his costume and finished his makeup, stepped out onto the set. From a distance, he saw Director Zhang Nan explaining scenes to Ning Rong and the veteran actors playing his character’s parents.
He listened for a while, and soon filming officially began.
Ning Rong and the two veteran actors took their positions. At the director’s shout of “Action,” they immediately slipped into character.
The three performed naturally and flawlessly, as if they were simply living an ordinary family life.
After the first take, Director Zhang Nan suddenly got an inspiration and asked them to change their positions and gestures, then perform again.
They tried three different setups before the director was satisfied, finally letting them rest and prepare for the next scene.
Ning Rong glanced back and noticed him, walking over with measured steps.
It was the first time she had seen Pei Qingjian after his makeup and costume were done. The difference, though subtle, caught her attention, making her take an extra look.
“Very good-looking,” Ning Rong said.
“You look good too, sister,” Pei Qingjian replied with a smile.
He meant it sincerely. Ning Rong was naturally beautiful, though her usual cold demeanor and subtle makeup didn’t make her features as striking. This time, playing Luo Rong—a bright, glamorous beauty—the makeup team had transformed her completely, like a blazing flame, impossible to look away from.
And yet… that familiar feeling came over him again. Pei Qingjian tilted his head, wondering why he felt this way.
He had already searched through the original owner’s memories and found no one similar. What could it be?
He couldn’t figure it out, so he didn’t force himself to.
Meanwhile, the screenwriter watched the sibling pair standing together and couldn’t help but feel excited.
“This is such an eye-catching sight. No wonder they’re my protagonists—handsome and beautiful.”
Director Zhang Nan, following her gaze, had to admit, it really was visually striking.
“Ning Rong and Pei Qingjian seem to get along really well,” he remarked. “That’s unusual.”
“Indeed,” the screenwriter nodded, clearly familiar with Ning Rong’s personality.
“But was Pei Qingjian the one Sister Wei recommended?” the screenwriter asked.
This made Zhang Nan curious. At the time, under tight schedules, the producers had asked if they knew any suitable actors to bring in for auditions. He and Wang Bin had recommended a few, and apparently, actors on the other side also recommended someone—Pei Qingjian was Sister Wei’s pick.
But Ning Rong’s personality was well known, so no one expected anything special from her. They assumed Sister Wei was just helping a young actor from her agency. During the auditions, Ning Rong voluntarily chose not to score the actors herself, offering to assist the director in selecting the most suitable actors without influencing the decision.
That was very typical of Ning Rong, so the producers didn’t say anything.
Now, though, Zhang Nan couldn’t help but wonder, “Why didn’t she score back then? If Pei Qingjian was only connected to Sister Wei, there’s no reason they’d be so familiar now. But if they already knew each other, why didn’t she want the decision-making power?”
“Of course, it’s because I was afraid of favoritism,” Ning Rong replied from her van to Sister Wei.
Had she been given scoring authority, she would have been unable to resist giving Pei Qingjian the highest score, which would have been unfair to the others.
But if she didn’t give him the highest score, it would also be hard on her.
So she simply gave up scoring entirely. Whether Pei Qingjian was selected or not, it wasn’t up to her, and she didn’t have to struggle with it.
“What if it turns out not to be Pei Qingjian?” Sister Wei asked.
Ning Rong leaned on the seat back, voice low. “Then we’ll just wait for the next time.”
If it didn’t work out this time, there would be a next opportunity; if not the next, then the one after. They’re all in the same industry—there would always be chances to collaborate.
Originally, she just wanted to meet him. If she could help his career a bit while meeting him, that would be great. If not, that was fine too. As long as Pei Qingjian stayed in the industry, she could always help.
“Sister Wei, could you check with the directors we’ve worked with before if any of them have projects needing a male actor his age? If so, help recommend him.”
Most actors dream of the big screen. Ning Rong was lucky, debuting directly in film, rising immediately. Pei Qingjian, however, came from the small screen and would need extra effort to transition to film.
Sister Wei listened and furrowed her brows further. Clearly, Ning Rong wasn’t just helping once or twice—she intended ongoing support.
Sister Wei asked curiously, “Is he your younger brother?”
Ning Rong’s eyes widened. “If only he were my real brother.”
Sister Wei: …
She turned to pour herself a glass of water—tactical sipping.
The director and screenwriter could clearly see Ning Rong’s fondness for Pei Qingjian. Other actors and staff, though sometimes dissatisfied that a relatively unknown actor was playing Luo Fei, dared not speak or act out, fearing they might offend Ning Rong.
Pei Qingjian, unaware of all this, went happily to work every day and returned to the hotel in good spirits.
“Our crew is especially harmonious and friendly,” Pei Qingjian said while on the phone with Lan Xingchen.
Lan Xingchen chuckled softly. “Is that so? That’s good.”
“And you? How have you been the past two days?” Pei Qingjian asked, genuinely concerned.
“That’s good,” Lan Xingchen replied. “Once I finish up a couple of things in the next two days, I’ll come see you.”
Pei Qingjian’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Mm,” Lan Xingchen leaned back in his chair. “I’ll try to stay longer when I’m there.”
“Okay,” Pei Qingjian said without hesitation.
He stayed visibly happy even after hanging up the phone.
Lan Xingchen, sensing his joy, couldn’t help but smile.
He left the office in high spirits.
When he arrived home and opened the door, he was surprised to find not the usual dim lights, but a bright glow, completely unexpected at this hour.
Lan Xingchen froze for a moment. He remembered turning off the lights when he left that morning.
So then…
“You’re home.”
The familiar male voice reached him, and he looked over. Not far away, his uncle Wen Yuan was standing under the light.
“Just in time. I figured you’d be home now. Dinner’s ready—go change and wash your hands.”
Lan Xingchen stared for a moment before snapping out of it and replied with a soft, “Oh,” heading to his bedroom.
The room looked different from when he left earlier—clearly someone had tidied it.
Looking around at the neat space, he felt a mix of emotions: a little happy, a little embarrassed.
Happy because, like when he was a child, Wen Yuan would always help him tidy his room if he hadn’t.
Embarrassed because he was grown up now, yet Wen Yuan still helped organize his space.
He quickly changed into his pajamas, washed his hands, and went out.
Wen Yuan had already brought the dishes into the dining room and was sitting, scrolling on his phone while waiting for him.
Even though he was busy, he still made time for Lan Xingchen.
Lan Xingchen sat beside him, waiting as Wen Yuan finished his task and set down the phone.
“You came suddenly—what’s the occasion?” he asked.
“I wanted to come see you earlier, but there wasn’t time. Today I happen to have a bit of free time, so I stopped by,” Wen Yuan replied.
His phone buzzed again, and he unhesitatingly checked a subordinate’s voice message, giving instructions as he listened.
Lan Xingchen: …And you call this “a bit of free time”?
Sensing Lan Xingchen’s gaze, Wen Yuan picked up his chopsticks and placed a piece of pork rib in Lan Xingchen’s bowl, signaling him to start eating.
Lan Xingchen had no choice but to eat quietly.
After giving a few more instructions, Wen Yuan said, “I’m busy right now. Handle your things first, and we’ll talk later.”
He set down his phone with a hint of helplessness. “Lately, there’s been a lot going on.”
Lan Xingchen, eating a rib, nodded. “I can tell.”
Wen Yuan’s gaze fell on him. He scooped some soup into a bowl and placed it in front of him.
Lan Xingchen looked up and met his gentle gaze.
A little embarrassed, he said, “Eat your own food first. Don’t just fuss over me.”
“Mm,” Wen Yuan acknowledged and began eating.
The dining room fell into a calm silence.
Lan Xingchen felt the quiet, sneaking glances at Wen Yuan. He was drinking his soup leisurely, elegant and composed.
The Lan family genes were strong. Whether it was Lan Xingchen’s mother, Lan He, or his uncle Wen Yuan, they all had striking features.
Unlike the bold handsomeness inherited from his father Lu Yinkong, Wen Yuan’s looks were more refined and noble.
His fair skin, deep-set double eyelids, and slightly upturned eye corners resembled the wings of a bird.
Now, with age, he had the aura of someone in a position of authority, making his elegance feel more like discreet mastery, quietly commanding respect.
Truly admirable.
“In a few days, it’ll be my birthday,” Wen Yuan said quietly.
“I know,” Lan Xingchen replied, looking at him. “I remember.”
“I’ll be waiting for you at home then,” Wen Yuan said, helping him with some food.
His visit had two purposes: to see Lan Xingchen, and to mention his birthday. Ultimately, it was all to make sure he’d see him.
Lan Xingchen understood immediately and nodded. “I’ll come by after work.”
“Good.”
Wen Yuan then remembered something. “Your aunt said you have a roommate now?”
Lan Xingchen: !!!
Alarm bells went off in his head, and he stiffened.
Author’s note:
Lan Xingchen: Ahhh! Aunt, why did you tell my uncle this?!
Uncle: Can’t I know?
Lan Xingchen: …