“President Bo?” Secretary Liang Xin looked at Bo Rui in surprise. His boss rarely wore such an expression—how to describe it? [A wicked smile? A little rascal, congratulations, you’ve successfully caught my attention.]
Liang Xin’s mind immediately ran wild, imagining a hundred different scenarios: some cunning little trickster sneaking close to the boss when he wasn’t looking, using “A Hundred Ways to Properly Approach the Rich and Handsome” to get noticed, and maybe even rising in rank soon.
“Did you eat your tofu pudding this morning?” Bo Rui’s gaze was full of disdain as he looked at his secretary. Liang Xin was capable, which was good, but his mind always wandered. Ever since Bo Rui had accidentally glimpsed the true side of Liang Xin, he had realized that the so-called stoic, disciplined, elite male persona was just a facade. The girls in the secretarial office probably had their eyes on something else entirely.
…Damn, my boss’s mouth is sharp. Who the hell wants to eat tofu pudding to feed his brain? Should I slip something into his drink and take him out? Urgent! Liang Xin’s face twitched, his inner fury almost bubbling over. But considering the monthly pay and the generous holiday bonuses, he restrained himself.
Bo Rui glanced at Liang Xin’s twitching hand but ignored it. That guy had cunning but no courage—Bo Rui had long seen through him.
“President Bo, the client files you requested are all here.” Liang Xin twisted his face to ignore the tofu pudding remark and handed over a USB drive.
“Load them all up for me, quickly. We’ll be going out this afternoon.” Bo Rui waved, tossing a new phone toward him. He left the task to Liang Xin; the more capable, the more work.
Damn heartless boss, Liang Xin muttered internally. Taking the phone, he returned to his desk. Bo Rui didn’t have many social contacts, but the client numbers were numerous. Inputting all of them would take considerable time.
With a silent groan, Liang Xin opened his computer and phone, ready to start. Suddenly, his phone vibrated—a new message had arrived.
Liang Xin instinctively looked down and was surprised to see that the number was already saved with a note:
Too skinny???
Liang Xin’s eye twitched again. He looked at Bo Rui’s office with a strange expression. Boss, are you raising pigs?
Shrugging, he decided to ignore it and continued working, though a tiny doubt had taken root: who exactly was “too skinny”?
…I am the one who’s too skinny.
“Brother Yu, want to grab a drink together after filming tonight?” A hand casually snaked around Yu Junqing’s shoulder from behind. Just finishing a scene and feeling a bit tired, Yu Junqing stumbled two steps forward.
“Sorry, sorry! Brother Yu, are you okay? I didn’t know… you’re strong, how are you so weak?” The person behind immediately withdrew, uttering apologetic words, yet the tone carried an infuriating smugness.
Yu Junqing turned, recognizing Zhu Wen. He smiled lightly. “It’s fine. But I still have one more scene tonight. Forgot? Director Wang just mentioned it not long ago.”
His expression was natural—not overly familiar, nor distant—just the casual recognition among cast members. But Zhu Wen’s teeth were clenched in rage.
Arrogant! Keep being arrogant! Zhu Wen knew full well that Yu Junqing still had another scene tonight. Director Wang had decided to add it, yet it was Yu Junqing’s suggestion. This man’s cunning was remarkable.
Zhu Wen had noticed his own performance slipping recently, and Director Wang had been favoring Yu Junqing, even giving him extra scenes.
Yu Junqing said nothing, smiling as he turned away.
“Brother Yu! You’ve worked hard.” Xiao Yitong, chatting with makeup artist DY, spotted Yu Junqing and rushed over.
“Sorry for the wait. We have one more scene tonight. Let’s eat something first and then head back.” Yu Junqing nodded, greeting DY. After confirming she didn’t want to join, he and Xiao Yitong tidied up and left.
“Xiao Yitong and Brother Yu, honestly, they’re rare good people,” muttered Mo Weiwei, DY’s assistant, who had been quietly playing on her phone.
DY still wore a smile, watching the two figures walk away. She sighed softly. Yes, they were good people, but as they say: kindness can be exploited.
Yu Junqing didn’t stray far. They went to a familiar nearby restaurant. The food was good, and the owner was considerate. Many actors came and went here, yet the staff were never allowed to ask for autographs or photos—the privacy was perfect. Many preferred coming here for that reason.
Xiao Yitong quickly ordered. Brother Yu treated him well, often taking him out to eat. Other assistants were constantly running errands outside.
“Hehe, Brother Yu, how was filming today? Want to grab some late-night snacks?” Xiao Yitong hinted. He had some connections in the crew and had heard whispers: Zhu Wen and Brother Yu seemed to have some tension. Zhu Wen was usually stable, but when on-screen with Brother Yu, things went strangely off.
“It’s fine. Director Wang wants to shoot some extra footage with Wen Qingqing and me tonight. We should finish on time,” Yu Junqing replied, keeping Zhu Wen’s misbehavior to himself. He had seen too much over the years to be bothered.
Xiao Yitong pouted. Brother Yu had a good temperament, but he disliked Zhu Wen. He felt something unsettling in Zhu Wen’s gaze toward Brother Yu.
Yu Junqing, noticing Xiao Yitong’s childlike sulking, couldn’t resist pinching the round cheek. Not bad—good texture. No wonder everyone in the crew liked this kid.
Xiao Yitong was momentarily stunned. Where was Brother Yu’s mature, composed image? When he saw Yu Junqing turn and smirk, he realized and flared up.
“Brother Yu, I’m telling you, don’t think I’m a kid just because I look young! I’m twenty-six, you know!”
Yu Junqing pinched his nose, chuckling softly, eyes slightly reddening, then nodded seriously.
“Yes, yes. A twenty-six-year-old youth.”
…Xiao Yitong was speechless. Sure, he often referred to himself that way, but hearing Brother Yu say it felt different.
Heart slightly heavy, Xiao Yitong turned to the door. He had ordered a pot of winter melon soup to calm Brother Yu’s temper. Now, it seemed it was better for him to drink it himself.
Yu Junqing’s eyes crinkled at his antics. The pressure of constantly performing on set seemed to ease a bit.
Xiao Yitong had ordered hot dishes, which would take some time to arrive. Yu Junqing took out his phone, idly scrolling.
Ding~ A new message came in. Yu Junqing paused, opening it.
“No need to thank me.”
Just two simple words. Yu Junqing was momentarily stunned; his long lashes partially covered his eyes, revealing a faint regret.
He had hoped too much, yet it had been so long since he felt such warmth that he had indulged in the expectation. He smirked wryly, silently reminding himself: don’t overthink it. What isn’t yours shouldn’t belong to you.
Quietly putting the phone away, Yu Junqing stared at the doorway, lost in thought.
“Brother Yu?” Xiao Yitong had gone out to add another dish, returning to see Yu Junqing staring. Slightly guilty, he called softly. Did Brother Yu know he had secretly asked the chef to add a dish?
“Hm?” Yu Junqing immediately caught on, curling his lips in a familiar smile.
“I’m fine.”
Xiao Yitong looked at him suspiciously. About to ask more, the first dish arrived—his favorite, fried taro with salted egg yolk.
“I ordered this,” Yu Junqing said, smiling warmly at his reaction. Compared to earlier, the warmth in his smile was more evident. He genuinely liked Xiao Yitong, which was why he remembered his favorite dish.
Truthfully, anyone who saw someone so fixated on a dish—even reluctant to leave any behind—would instantly know their preference…
Xiao Yitong, excited and impatient, sat down and started eating, thanking Yu Junqing as he dug in. Yu Junqing didn’t stop him. Xiao Yitong ate messily, but with such relish that Yu Junqing found himself eating more too.
As they ate, Yu Junqing gradually began thinking about tonight’s scene, his mind wandering.
“Hahaha! President Bo, it’s been great working with you. I’ve got something to do tonight, so I’ll head off first!” A cheerful, slightly aged male voice suddenly rang from the corridor. Yu Junqing and Xiao Yitong jumped. Xiao Yitong chewed quickly, still captivated by the food, saying nothing.
Yu Junqing’s attention flickered for a moment. President Bo… Rui Ge… same surname.
“Alright, take care, no seeing off.” The deep, mellow voice carried through everything, reaching Yu Junqing’s ears. He looked up, surprised. This voice—Rui Ge?