The birthday banquet was set for three days later. The day before, Ye Xu delivered two sets of outfits—obviously couple’s attire. Anning, cradling a cat on the sofa, insisted on seeing them.
“My darling, please fulfill my wish,” she clasped her hands in prayer. Seeing Qin Sizheng unmoved, she turned to Fourth Brother and showered him with praise—but he didn’t spare her a glance.
Anning waved her cat’s paw at him. “Please, Dad!”
“Why are you lowering the generation? Besides, I haven’t seen anything yet that you’d show me.”
Lu Xianqing was pruning flowers—the two of them had snuck to the flower market disguised, and miraculously no one recognized them. They gleefully carried two pots of cacti and even grabbed some street food.
“If you won’t let me see, I’ll tell General Ye that yesterday you took my darling to eat street food and gave him diarrhea!”
Lu Xianqing set down the watering can, reached to trim the flowers, then frowned—there were no branches on the cacti. He put down the scissors disappointedly.
“Fourth Brother, please, if you won’t wear it, let my darling try it on for me. He hasn’t worn formal clothes in a long time! I have a friend with cancer who wants to see this before… you know.”
Qin Sizheng, sipping hot water, stifled a laugh. “That friend—isn’t that you?”
Anning slumped sideways. “Ah, I’m dead.”
Lu Xianqing took the cup from him, placing a hand on his forehead. “Any discomfort?”
“None. I’m fine, just a little diarrhea—don’t make a fuss. If you don’t believe me, we could even spar; you wouldn’t last a punch.”
Lu Xianqing helped him up. “Why take pride in a little stomach trouble? Since you’re fine, go upstairs, change, and get to work. The sooner we finish, the sooner we go home, so we won’t be bothered in the morning.”
“Okay.”
This was Qin Sizheng’s first advertisement shoot after signing with Lu Xianqing’s studio. Lu Xianqing had charted his career path for the next ten years, building a ladder with his guidance and voice.
Step by step, climbing higher.
At Shengyu, Qin Sizheng had never had such a clear plan—they just took work as it came. Seeing a well-structured roadmap made him realize the difference between working for money and working for passion.
Qin Sizheng went upstairs to change. Lu Xianqing called He Xing via video, then sat peeling nuts on the sofa. Tonight, he could even bake a small cake for Qin Sizheng.
He Xing answered quickly, anxiously asking if something had happened, saying she would rush over.
“Nothing, just chatting about Qin Sizheng’s future development.”
Suppressing her irritation, He Xing slumped back. “Lu Xianqing, I’m on vacation! You gave me a week off!”
Lu Xianqing said, “You’re on your break. I didn’t tell you to come back—so a phone call isn’t allowed?”
“Fine, go ahead,” He Xing replied.
Lu Xianqing carefully explained Qin Sizheng’s past trajectory and how he was gradually being guided back on track, marveling at how difficult his path had been, sighing repeatedly.
He Xing responded, “It hasn’t been easy for me either. Are you pitying me?”
Lu Xianqing asked, “Was it hard to get the Pink Diamond?”
After a brief pause, He Xing said seriously, “His physical prowess is a standout. He could take on more action scenes and similar variety shows, but artsy projects aren’t his strong suit and would be harder to manage—avoid those. Also, An Ying has a Spring Festival Gala invitation this year and mentioned wanting to collaborate with Sizheng again. That’s a great stepping stone; if leveraged well, it could significantly boost his popularity.”
Lu Xianqing said, “There’s no martial arts-themed talent variety show in the industry yet.”
He Xing, sensing trouble from his abrupt comment, frowned. “Don’t tell me you want to make one? Will he be a participant or a mentor?”
Lu Xianqing naturally chose the latter. He Xing gave a knowing look. “But running a variety show isn’t simple. I’m warning you—not to expect me to finish it in two months. The studio staff are human, not gods, and a show usually needs at least three to five mentors.”
Lu Xianqing brushed his hands off and called out from the second floor, “Yanyan, want to be colleagues with your idol?”
Qin Sizheng, unaware he was on a call, nodded excitedly. “Really? Can I? Has he come into the entertainment industry? When?!”
Lu Xianqing pointed at the phone. “Go on, beg He Xing.”
Qin Sizheng suddenly understood, clasped his hands, and loudly addressed the phone, “He Xing! Please! Grant me this wish!”
He Xing was baffled. “Who’s your idol? Not you?”
Lu Xianqing said a name, and He Xing was even more confused. Who was this? From the industry? She had never heard of him—either she was ignorant, or the industry moved too fast.
“Apparently he’s a titan in boxing, has won multiple championship belts. Professional matters are best handled by professionals.”
He Xing took a deep breath and cursed at the camera, “Are you crazy? He’s a boxing champion! You want me to ask him to be a variety show mentor? Do you think I’m a wizard who can summon anyone?”
Lu Xianqing returned the phone. “I never asked you to make it easy. Is the Pink Diamond fragile?”
He Xing’s face turned red with fury. She cursed under her breath, tore off her sun-protection shawl, and strode back. Someone nearby asked where she was going.
“To find a man!”
Watching the video call end, Lu Xianqing sighed beside Anning, who was feeding a cat. “Poor me, a boss constantly hung up on by my employees.”
Anning laughed so hard her shoulders shook. “He Xing is going to kill you when she hears that.”
The phone buzzed again. Lu Xianqing picked it up—it wasn’t his call. Lifting the cushion, he found it was Qin Sizheng, calling twice from an unknown number without rest.
He had just answered when a panicked voice asked, “Why are you with Lu Xianqing again? Haven’t you forgotten what he did to you? Will you sacrifice everything for profit?”
Lu Xianqing paused—Wen Li?
Anning, noticing his frown, asked, “Who’s that?”
Lu Xianqing raised a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet, and listened to Wen Li for a few sentences before hanging up before she could intervene.
Footsteps approached. Lu Xianqing casually hid the phone under the cushion.
“Oh, you’re done changing?” he said, seeing Qin Sizheng descend the stairs in a light gray cashmere cardigan paired with a deep blue coat, which made his skin appear even paler.
Lu Xianqing gave a meaningful “hmm,” making Qin Sizheng slightly self-conscious.
The outfit was from Ye Xu. Qin Sizheng had never worn anything like it before, and he grew nervous. “Does it not look good?”
“Looks great. Your mamma has excellent taste.”
Qin Sizheng smiled, two dimples deepening, the ensemble adding elegance to his youthful charm.
“All right, let’s go.”
Lu Xianqing slowed his pace and quietly instructed Anning, “Have He Xing invite Wen Li to my grandfather’s birthday banquet.”
Anning perked up—she had long disliked Wen Li and felt it was time he paid for his treatment of Qin Sizheng—but she hesitated. “Will she go?”
Lu Xianqing replied, “She will. If not, have He Xing invite Zhou Changjiang instead.”
Anning looked confused. “What does that mean?”
Lu Xianqing gave a look of exasperation. “Do you know why He Xing can strong-arm Pink Diamond?”
Anning was even more puzzled. “Why?”
“Because you’re just too dumb,” he said, shaking his head as he walked away.
Anning gritted her teeth. “Not dumb! You’re too cunning, that’s all!”
The advertisement shoot location wasn’t far. Upon arrival, the crew was busy setting up.
Qin Sizheng suddenly felt like he had stepped into another world.
The director hurried over upon seeing them. “Ah, you’re here. There’s a temporary issue with the set—it’ll take half an hour to finish. Sorry about that.”
Qin Sizheng smiled casually. “No worries. My makeup will take half an hour too, so we’re not in a rush.”
The director nodded and went back to directing the crew. The two walked toward the makeup room. Today’s ad was for a perfume, targeting urban young elites with a minimalist, detached style.
Qin Sizheng had good looks, but his natural flamboyance lacked a hint of the cold, elite air the campaign demanded. The makeup artist always felt something was missing.
Lu Xianqing handed over his glasses. The makeup artist held the silver-framed, delicate-rimmed glasses and exclaimed, “Yes! That’s it!” Placing them on Qin Sizheng, he now perfectly embodied an urban, elite demeanor.
“Turn around so I can see.” Lu Xianqing didn’t wait for him to check the mirror, nudged his chair foot to pivot him, and tilted his head up to instruct the makeup artist, “Match this look with non-prescription lenses—he doesn’t need vision correction.”
The makeup artist nodded hurriedly. “All right, just a moment, teachers.”
Qin Sizheng had never worn glasses before, and these from Lu Xianqing even had prescription lenses. He immediately felt a little dizzy; when he turned, everything doubled for a while before he could barely see clearly.
He reached out to touch the frame. On Lu Xianqing’s face, these glasses gave off a restrained yet refined rogue vibe—probably because his natural features were already sharp and cool. Would it look strange on him?
“Does it look bad?” Qin Sizheng asked, noticing the peculiar expression on Lu Xianqing’s face. He reached to remove them, but Lu Xianqing grabbed his hand, pressing it down. “Don’t take them off. They look good. Close your eyes.”
Qin Sizheng closed his eyes, hesitantly asking, “Really?”
“Mm, very good… especially…” Lu Xianqing leaned close to his ear, whispering, “naughty.”
The word burned hot in Qin Sizheng’s ears, and he snapped his eyes open, shoving him away. “Don’t… don’t say that. Someone might hear you!”
Leaning back in his chair, Lu Xianqing raised his hands in surrender. “Fine, I won’t say it. Truly, it looks great. Take a look at the mirror yourself.”
Qin Sizheng took a deep breath, bracing himself. He turned to the mirror. His hair was neatly swept back, revealing a smooth forehead; his brows were sharp and angular, blending into his temples. Paired with the silver-rimmed glasses, he exuded a cold, elite aura—if one ignored the slight redness on his ears.
Lu Xianqing stood, removing the glasses and resting a hand on his shoulder to coach him in advance. “During the shoot, keep your gaze cold, your expression tight, collect all emotion.”
“Imagine you’re an executive at a company, surrounded by incompetent employees who gossip and sabotage every day, causing the company to fail. You’re in a meeting, teaching them a lesson. That’s the emotion you need.”
Qin Sizheng understood immediately. “Mm.”
Lu Xianqing then pinched his ears gently, massaging them with his fingertips. “No blush here. All restraint, all cold. Otherwise, it’s really… naughty.”
“Get out!” Qin Sizheng snapped.
Lu Xianqing froze.
Qin Sizheng stared at him, his face a stranger’s mask. “Who gave you permission to touch me?”
Lu Xianqing, momentarily stunned, withdrew his hand, his heart tightening. Thinking he might have forgotten again, he watched Qin Sizheng suddenly smile and quietly sit back, saying nothing.
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
Qin Sizheng inwardly scolded himself; using that flustered expression to deny anger was the least he could do.
“Really?”
“Really.” Lu Xianqing replied.
Now Qin Sizheng understood—no matter how invincible Lu Xianqing seemed, the thing he feared most was losing him. Just now, when he whispered that word, his expression nearly collapsed, full of panic. He even instinctively pulled back his hand. Qin Sizheng, feeling tender, held his hand and whispered, “I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll write a self-reflection tonight and stick it on my bedpost. Or make it my phone wallpaper, three hundred reflections a day?”
Lu Xianqing, originally annoyed, couldn’t help laughing at his pitiful act. He tapped his forehead. “No! The wallpaper must be my photo! Don’t scare me again, or…”
“What?” Qin Sizheng swallowed nervously, waiting for the punishment.
But Lu Xianqing said nothing further, as if he hadn’t finished his sentence.
The assistant informed them the set was ready. Qin Sizheng, following behind, asked, “You just… not finishing your sentence makes me uncomfortable. Brother, you said—”
Lu Xianqing paused, then turned and pressed a kiss to his lips, cutting off all words.
Light and fleeting, he let go. “What can I do? I can’t beat you anyway.”
Seeing him so completely yielding made Qin Sizheng laugh, eyes curved. He beckoned him with a finger, and when Lu Xianqing leaned down, he whispered in the same teasing tone, “Next time, I’ll make you…”
Lu Xianqing was dumbfounded. When he realized, Qin Sizheng was already gone. He ground his teeth, a mix of exasperation and affection. “You little brat!”
Qin Sizheng walked to the shoot, light-footed, unable to hide a smile.
When he first “crossed over” here, he had little sense of being an actor. He only knew that since he was here, he should do his best—never realizing it could also become a passion. From the start, with Chu Jing, he finally felt a hint of satisfaction as an actor.
He stumbled forward on this path, discovering that the end of the road led to Lu Xianqing, and he moved step by step toward it. Now he realized Lu Xianqing was running toward him too, holding his hand toward the finish line.