A few days after wrapping filming, Yu Junqing finally understood what Bo Rui had meant by “not too serious.”
“Director Wang, you really don’t need to put any medicine on it?” Yu Junqing could not help asking again, staring at the dark bruise around Director Wang Jin’s eye. Honestly, it was way too obvious. What if he had to go out and meet people? He could not exactly walk around with a huge black eye. Not to mention anything else, the entertainment reporters would have a field day with it.
Wang Jin shook his head. Seeing Yu Junqing’s conflicted expression—his eyes practically glued to the bruise—he chuckled.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing. No need for medicine. The doctor said my body isn’t what it used to be when I was young. For a small injury like this, just let it heal naturally. There’s no need to use any medication; that might even do more harm than good.”
He looked completely at ease, not worried at all about how he appeared.
Yu Junqing could not argue with that. If he was even quoting the doctor, what else could he say?
But he would bet money the old man was not being obedient because of the doctor’s advice. He might look gentle and easygoing, but that was all an illusion.
Take himself, for example. Back when he had tried to persuade the old man to revise a certain scene, he had practically run his legs off with the script in hand and talked until his mouth went dry before Director Wang had gradually started listening. If he had not been persistent, well… forget it.
“Are you feeling better today?” The door suddenly opened, and Lin Qing walked in holding a bouquet of pink carnations—Director Wang’s specified choice, ordered by Wang Shilin.
The smile on Wang Jin’s face brightened instantly. Yu Junqing understood in a second. So that was the real reason he refused to put medicine on it!
He had wondered—Lin Qing had said he was returning overseas, yet even after filming wrapped, he was still here. Turns out it was because of this. Yu Junqing shot Director Wang a complicated look, and a single line flashed across his mind: So this is the kind of schemer you are.
After setting down the flowers, Lin Qing came over. Yu Junqing tactfully moved aside to stand near the door, watching the once lofty Young Master Lin now expertly peeling an apple for Director Wang—cutting it into little rabbit shapes.
Come to think of it, Brother Rui could peel apples like that too. Yu Junqing suddenly recalled the time he had been invited to Brother Rui’s house for dinner; Brother Rui had cut the apple into little rabbits just like this.
“…How can someone zone out at a time like this?” Lin Qing called Yu Junqing several times with no response. After placing the apple slices on a small plate with toothpicks and handing it to Director Wang, he turned and saw Yu Junqing standing at the door, eyes unfocused, clearly mentally miles away.
“Sometimes I really don’t understand where he leaves his brain. Does he forget to bring it with him every day?” Lin Qing could not help complaining to Wang Shilin, who had just walked in.
Wang Shilin glanced at Yu Junqing, who had not even reacted to a grown man walking past him, and sighed helplessly. “Honestly, I’ve only noticed it recently too. He wasn’t like this during filming.”
Standing beside Lin Qing, Wang Shilin naturally let Lin Qing slip an arm around his waist. Wang Jin lowered his head and silently forked a piece of apple into his mouth. See no evil, see no evil, see no evil.
He had deeply come to understand what it meant to be force-fed public displays of affection without warning. As long as Shilin and Lin Qing stood together, he felt like he was receiving a truckload of top-tier imported dog food every day—an international collaboration, no less.
“Wait, why are you here, kid? With Xiao Lin here, that’s enough. Shouldn’t you be handling things with the crew?” Wang Jin shot his son a glare, completely unaware how blatant the favoritism was.
Wang Shilin fell silent for a moment, suppressing the unfilial urge to beat up his own father. “Dad, did you forget? We’ve already wrapped.”
Wang Jin’s hand froze mid-bite. A flicker of something suspicious crossed his face. Though he quickly masked it, both of them caught it.
Wang Shilin and Lin Qing exchanged odd looks. What was going on?
At the door, Yu Junqing watched the scene and remembered what the doctor had said earlier. His chest tightened. After a moment’s thought, he quietly left them some space.
“What’s wrong? Weren’t you going to visit Director Wang?” Bo Rui answered the call, gesturing for Liang Xin to leave the documents on the desk.
“I just came out of the hospital.” Yu Junqing found a secluded spot and sat down, sighing.
“That old gentleman’s health isn’t very good?” Bo Rui guessed. Otherwise, Junqing would not be sighing so heavily right after leaving the hospital.
“…Yeah.”
After a hesitant exchange, the misunderstanding finally came to light.
“What do you mean he’s ‘not doing well’?” Bo Rui asked.
“The doctor implied Director Wang… doesn’t have much time left.” Yu Junqing’s voice was heavy with sadness.
“What? Since when does mild dementia mean someone’s about to die?” Bo Rui blurted out in surprise.
Yu Junqing froze. “…What dementia?”
“You overheard the doctor, didn’t you? I heard he’s just showing early signs of dementia. It’s not life-threatening.”
Yu Junqing opened and closed his mouth without a sound. So Director Wang’s awkward reaction earlier was just because he had trouble remembering things?
And the doctor’s words—“There’s no way around it; elderly people eventually walk this path”—had meant dementia?
Suddenly, Yu Junqing wanted to take back all his sorrow and sympathy. And Lin Qing too—they had both been fooled by Director Wang!
“All right, let’s not talk about him,” Bo Rui said, sensing Junqing’s embarrassment and smoothly changing the subject. “You’ve wrapped, right? When are you coming home?”
“I want boiled fish in chili oil!” Yu Junqing immediately perked up at the mention of home.
Bo Rui paused, then laughed softly. “So compared to me, you’re more eager to come home for the food?”
Flustered, Yu Junqing rubbed his nose. It was not that he did not miss him—it was just that thinking of Brother Rui somehow made him hungry.
“Fine. I’ll make it when you get back.”
“I should be back soon. Brother Rui, wait for me!”
After hanging up abruptly, Yu Junqing hurried off to discuss plans for the wrap party.
That evening, the wrap party ended surprisingly quickly. Without Director Wang present—he was still hospitalized—no one suggested making it a grand event. They simply ordered food, ate quietly, and dispersed within an hour.
By the time Yu Junqing arrived home, it was almost nine.
Even before opening the door, he smelled the rich aroma of food. His eyes curved with anticipation as he unlocked it.
“Hey, you’re back. Perfect timing—we’re just about ready to eat.” Ren Qingyun lounged lazily on a human-shaped sofa and waved at him.
Yu Junqing stared.
“Come in. Bo Rui’s in the kitchen—probably didn’t hear you.”
As Yu Junqing stepped inside, his gaze swept over the tall, well-dressed foreign man sitting stiffly beside Ren Qingyun.
“Oh, right. You’ve never met him, have you? This is my lover. British. Winston. Runs a family business.”
The man lowered his head with a soft chuckle. “I’m your… lover?”
“If not lover, then what?” Ren Qingyun retorted stubbornly, though a faint blush colored his face.
“Of course… beloved—”
The rest disappeared into a kiss.
Yu Junqing felt his stomach ache. Maybe boiled fish was not such a good idea tonight. Too spicy for the eyes, bad for digestion.
Bo Rui came out, speechless at the sight, and nudged the sofa with his foot before turning to Yu Junqing.
“You’re back.”
“Yeah.” Yu Junqing hurried over, unwilling to keep watching the couple’s display.
“They’re flying out tomorrow. He insisted on coming for one last meal. Think of it as repaying a favor,” Bo Rui explained, setting the pot on the table.
“They’re leaving tomorrow?” Yu Junqing glanced back in surprise.
“Of course. He chased me all the way here—why would I stay?” Ren Qingyun called out.
Yu Junqing’s mood dipped slightly. If Ren Qingyun moved out, would Brother Rui ask him to move back to the other house?
At the same time, Bo Rui was worrying about the exact same thing. If his treasure brought it up, how was he supposed to respond?
Would one serving of boiled fish be enough to keep him? Or would it take two?