“Boss, it’s so late today, aren’t you leaving yet?” Liang Xin, acting as the spokesperson for the pitiable masses, calmly walked into the boss’s office and asked straight away.
Bo Rui frowned and looked up. “What, you’re leaving early today to feed your cat?” A towering stack of documents sat on his right, while the pile on the left was almost gone.
Not early at all! Liang Xin felt his inner roar building—he was almost ready to transform into the Roaring Emperor. He’d missed the best time to curry favor with his royal feline, for heaven’s sake!
The boss, who had always been punctual in leaving, why had he suddenly transformed into an overtime-obsessed maniac they didn’t recognize?
Thinking of the pitiful kids outside crying for attention, Liang Xin couldn’t help but take a couple of steps to pull open the curtains, pointing at the evidence. “Boss, with the sky like this, does it really look early?”
Bo Rui glanced, dropped the pen in his hand, and—well, it really wasn’t early anymore.
“Fine, if you all want to leave early, then leave early.” Bo Rui nodded, raising his voice slightly; surely, there were some ears pressed against the door outside.
Sure enough, no sooner had he spoken than cheers erupted outside, followed by chaos and footsteps. Tsk, this lot.
Bo Rui glanced at the last document he had just signed and called over Liang Xin, the devoted cat servant.
“Don’t go yet. I have something to assign you.”
Liang Xin stiffened and turned around silently. Could it be the boss was about to scold this poor assistant over earlier matters?
Bo Rui organized the documents on the desk and handed them over.
“These are the more important files recently. Keep them safe. Also, unless something urgent comes up, don’t come to me—I’m taking a few days off.”
Bo Rui ignored Liang Xin’s world-ending expression. These little rabbits—he was working overtime here, and they, gossiping away, dared to drag him into leaving early? Bold. Perfect timing, since things had been piling up lately; let these idle people keep busy.
Completely unaware of his own mischievous inner thoughts, Bo Rui soon headed down in the elevator to the parking lot. Today was his last big push; from tomorrow, he could finally spend time with his long-unseen precious treasure.
The contract with Yu Junqing had been entirely handled by him. Unexpectedly, Xu Zong had left quite a few loopholes in the contract. Now Yu Junqing, riding this momentum, had re-signed under him. Bo Rui had worried that transferring him over might cause disharmony, so he had laid some groundwork in advance. But now, contrary to his expectations, with each new signing, a wave of fans followed, begging the new owner to take good care of their idol. Such considerate fans—Star Entertainment really hadn’t noticed. Free gains for him.
Thinking of Yu Junqing’s reaction when he saw him, Bo Rui felt much better. These past days of overtime had taken a toll—even young as he was, his body wasn’t invincible. And due to work, he hadn’t gone to the gym in days, leaving his neck and shoulders stiff.
Bo Rui twisted his neck and back, the joints cracking audibly—ah, much better.
The past few days, every time he closed his eyes, it was full of Yu Junqing’s temptingly alluring face. Tsk, Bo Rui felt speechless—why did his precious baby have to tease him before leaving, only to disappear right after? Not fair.
He checked the time. Though leaving now was somewhat late, it was just right. Tonight, he could rest well and check on the filming situation tomorrow.
As for Yu Junqing’s situation, it couldn’t be called good or bad.
From the start, Bo Rui had noticed the script—although only Luo Xu and Luo Er were the main characters, a number of minor characters appeared throughout, perhaps to make the final episode complete or to ease the son’s first steps. Aside from Yu Junqing, the other actors were all of notable status.
A big conflict arose here.
When they arrived at the filming location, they had anticipated sharing rooms with two or three people. With so many, the budget couldn’t cover everyone individually. The number of reserved rooms was insufficient, probably forgetting to count the crew. Now almost every actor had a crew member placed in their room, but… celebrities didn’t want their private lives exposed to strangers.
Especially in this industry, most were cautious. Even without scheming, they would consider whether sharing a room would let everyone sleep comfortably.
Eventually, the original plan was completely overturned. Based on star status, key actors were paired in twos, others in threes, and remaining crew members had it rough.
According to his status, Yu Junqing wasn’t a top star. He didn’t rush—sharing a room with someone was fine. He quietly stood aside, checking his phone for messages from Bo Rui.
At the end, as rooms were nearly assigned, Wang Shilin realized something was off. “Where’s my room?”
…Damn. The person in charge of bookings looked like death warmed over. He had promised a room for this person, then forgot mid-count!
Seeing his pitiful expression, Wang Shilin smirked. He took a list from the host—it clearly showed only Yu Junqing remained unassigned. Thinking it over, sharing a room with Yu Junqing was fine. At least, they had met now.
Problem solved, they entered the room. Yu Junqing froze.
He didn’t mind sharing a room, but a bed? No way.
Seeing the bed, a showstopper in the room, Yu Junqing was speechless. If Bo Rui saw it, he’d be doomed. Maybe he’d just sleep on the floor tonight.
Wang Shilin, behind him, noticed Yu Junqing staring at the bed, his dazed expression obvious. He teased him.
“Worried about your virtue?”
He’d heard domestic industry rumors were messy. Maybe Yu Junqing was concerned about that? Thanks to his dad, Wang Shilin was already used to weird situations domestically, from weird social media trends to odd expressions, so nothing surprised him.
He had no idea his dad’s efforts to prepare him for China had been wasted.
Hearing Wang Shilin’s voice, Yu Junqing glanced at his beautiful face and couldn’t maintain his guard—sharing a bed with someone prettier than himself, could you believe they’d just push him around?
Moreover, Yu Junqing recalled that Ren Qingyun, also a flirtatious beauty, and Wang Shilin’s pale, smooth skin gave him confidence—surely he was the passive one.
Though neither liked to socialize, they reached an unspoken agreement: to wake up early tomorrow, they went to bed early. No conflicts like other rooms.
Midnight, however, someone caused a commotion, waking everyone.
Yu Junqing suffered the most. The noise came from their room.
He had just gone to bed, exhausted, visions of intimate moments with Bo Rui in mind. Poor sleep quality left him nearly dead.
Kicking the bedpost twice, the person on the bed didn’t react. Yu Junqing couldn’t turn on the light. A suspicious-looking woman stood at the door. She saw the trap at her feet and panicked, but her feet were tangled.
“Yo-ho, there really is…” Wang Shilin, on the bed, didn’t sleep like Yu Junqing. He woke immediately, standing like a vampire in a coffin. Clad in a robe and coat, he came out to witness the scene.
He saw Yu Junqing’s so-called anti-rape rope, admitted necessary due to his fierce flower at home. He’d thought Yu Junqing overreacted—yet the rope actually worked.
Yu Junqing didn’t intend to free the woman, reading her fiery gaze. Though she looked like a call girl, in this remote spot, it made no sense—either she wanted him, or she was a minor role from the crew.
The closest adult to Yu Junqing, Wang Jin, worried slightly. Unlike Yu Junqing and Wang Shilin, he let the son handle directing, only providing backup. Busy with details, he slept late.
The noise was worse than an alarm clock, giving him a headache. He opened the door and saw a scantily clad woman outside Yu Junqing’s room. Mechanisms were on the floor.
Director Wang imagined many scenarios. Seeing the woman’s face, he fell silent. She was a small-time investor’s mistress, paying to show up. He hadn’t cared, as such things were common. But why here, and at Yu Junqing’s room?
Wang Jin, experienced, wouldn’t let this ruin the drama’s reputation on first filming day. He gave her a sharp glance; the woman trembled.
“Let them continue sleeping. Collect this at the door. I’ll have Wen Mengqing taken back—probably sleepwalking.” He spoke calmly. Onlookers noted: the woman wasn’t important, or they would have reacted differently.
Quiet returned. Everyone needed rest for the early morning.
Yu Junqing calmly removed the rope, slammed the door, and went back to his soft floor bedding, ignoring the woman’s fiery glare. Half-hearted night attacks—why now? Both he and Wang Shilin were present; could she really ignore them?
The woman’s gaze on Wang Shilin was intense. Yu Junqing recalled—sure, night attacks were possible, just bad timing.
Returning to the floor bedding, Wang Shilin asked, “You were the one sleepwalking? First time seeing someone fall asleep on the floor.”
Yu Junqing blushed. He hadn’t realized; he used to sleep on the floor to save money. Only Bo Rui’s advice—that his Taiji was particularly vigorous at night—changed that.
“…” Yu Junqing muttered, turned, ignoring Wang Shilin. Embarrassing as it was, better to blame sleepwalking.
Wang Shilin didn’t press. He’d just lain down and slept soundly.
The next day, filming went smoothly. Wang Shilin performed admirably. Director Wang’s mood improved; everyone acted like nothing had happened.
After morning scenes, Yu Junqing had free time. He wandered around.
Although initially asked to oversee Wang Shilin, Yu Junqing wasn’t foolish. Compared to standing beside Wang Shilin, he preferred his father’s support, observing him perform—Director Wang likely felt the same.
Though Yu Junqing was lead male, in fanbase and fame, he wasn’t the top star. Publicly following Wang Shilin’s side to ‘care’ for him would cause trouble.
He was used to exploring new places. This afternoon, seeking shade, he wandered casually.
The crew stayed in a remote location, with fresh air. Yu Junqing found a secluded spot to call Bo Rui, covering mossy stone seats with tissue.
Just as he was about to call, footsteps approached.
“What exactly happened last night, do you know?”
The voice sounded familiar, though Yu Junqing drew a blank.
“Need to ask? Just that. Probably thought accompanying the boss was a waste of time.” The voice sounded disinterested, barely caring.
“Doesn’t seem like it. I heard she wasn’t after the junior director.” Yu Junqing’s recognition sharpened. These were assistants in the crew, fairly well-known.
Yu Junqing recalled the contract had already transferred to Bo Rui’s company. Xiao Yitong’s contract had no major issues; he’d just delivered Yu Junqing here, returning to Star Entertainment.
People generally thought having more assistants was a matter of face. Yu Junqing wasn’t certain. When he arrived, carrying luggage, these two were treating him as crew.
If memory served, the male was Fang Sheng, now a popular artist under a leading entertainment company. Formerly a model, unexpectedly attracting female fans. The other, Yun Qi, a pure image actress, consistently popular.
Yu Junqing wondered why their assistants were so familiar with each other. Weren’t they from different companies?
Suddenly, one mentioned his name.
“Not after the junior director? You mean, after Yu Junqing? Come on, you saw it, right? He came alone, no assistant, carrying his own luggage!” Yun Qi’s assistant said.
Fang Sheng’s assistant sounded indifferent, not particularly interested in gossip.
“Mind your own business. As long as it doesn’t affect us.”
“Even so, don’t you think Yu Junqing, taking lead male, is distracting?” Yun Qi’s assistant was tenaciously annoyed, feeling Sheng was better and more popular—why allow someone like Yu Junqing in such an important role? Any irregularities, who would believe?
“Enough guessing—it’s meaningless. He has what he needs; no matter what you say, he won’t be deprived! Otherwise, why would that woman go for him? Others are clever!” Fang Sheng’s assistant was similarly irritated.
The conversation escalated into wild speculation—108 possibilities involving Wang Jin, Wang Shilin, and Yu Junqing. At first, Yu Junqing felt anger, then amusement. Ridiculous scenarios, yet they spoke with logic.
However, the next line from the two women made Yu Junqing frown.
“Hey, come to think of it, how did that woman get the key to open the door?”