Nie Luo paused briefly before slowly speaking.
“…It’s you.”
The implication was clear—he had expected Jin Yi to be the one opening the door.
Fan Qing chuckled softly, exhaling a deliberately chosen light, fresh scent.
“If I told you I guessed it would be you knocking, so I volunteered to open the door first… would you believe me?”
He believed it.
Nie Luo wasn’t foolish or blind.
No normal person would open a door with eyes glistening like that, not to mention the subtle fragrance, and the freshly styled hair.
He even noticed Fan Qing had loosened two buttons at the collar.
Even if Nie Luo didn’t want to overthink it, the sparkle in Fan Qing’s eyes conveyed his initiative and uniqueness.
Nie Luo fell silent a moment longer, his voice calm.
“I know.”
Fan Qing blinked slightly.
He instinctively studied Nie Luo’s expression, as always.
But…
Fan Qing’s keen eyes caught the faint blush on Nie Luo’s ears.
He was somewhat surprised, yet not entirely so.
Nie Luo was exactly as he had imagined—innocent and pure.
He couldn’t help but let out a low, amused laugh.
It was this very Nie Luo who made him want to possess him.
“…Where is he?”
Caught off guard and feeling oddly awkward, Nie Luo instinctively stiffened his cold expression.
Being naturally graceful and aloof, his icy demeanor only enhanced his refined, restrained allure.
Fan Qing was utterly captivated by this.
He had to admit—some people were simply born to match his tastes.
However…
He couldn’t overdo it. He had finally seen him, and couldn’t risk scaring him away.
He shifted slightly to let Nie Luo glimpse inside.
“He’s in there with a few colleagues from the company, preparing to watch the premiere of the survival show I brought a junior artist to. Want to come in?”
Nie Luo’s expression froze for a split second.
He slowly typed a question mark.
“…You mean watch what?”
Fan Qing couldn’t help a wry smile.
Second Young Master Jin’s antics were, frankly, beyond normal comprehension.
He stepped out slightly, his fingers brushing against Nie Luo’s lower back as if lightly guiding him forward.
“Watch the survival show premiere. Jian Feiyang—do you remember him? Let’s watch together. This time, Jing Yuan is also on the show.”
The ghostly warmth at his lower back made Nie Luo want to pull away, but at the mention of “Jing Yuan,” he froze.
“Jing Yuan is on the show too?”
“You didn’t know?”
Fan Qing felt puzzled. Nie Luo leaned slightly back, his hand fully pressed against Nie Luo’s lower back.
Almost instantly, Fan Qing sensed the taut, toned strength of his waist.
The sudden contact gave him the fleeting impression that Nie Luo might bolt at any second.
“Old Nie!”
Jin Yi could no longer contain himself.
Damn!
Can you two not just speak up already?
He really wanted to know what those two were saying.
And seriously…
Was Fan Qing being a little too double-standard here?
Recently, Jin Yi had been Fan Qing’s puppet every day, and the guy had never removed those thick glasses!
Yet as soon as Old Nie arrived—bam! Small hairstyle tousled, glasses off, and even a faint masculine scent wafting over!
Ultimate double standards, indeed.
While muttering a mental tirade, Jin Yi cheerfully sidled up to Nie Luo.
“Not busy today? Perfect timing—we’re having a little get-together. I’ve got a few promising newcomers in the company, ones with both looks and talent. Come in and take a look? Let’s just hang out. Haven’t had a drink with you in ages, right?”
He spoke while draping a half-arm around Nie Luo’s shoulder, guiding him inside.
Fan Qing lingered behind, subtly giving a thumbs-up.
Second Young Master Jin, impressive as always.
Jin Yi shot him a smug glance, then guided Nie Luo over to the sofa.
Guan Junhao, still holding two phones, chuckled and greeted Nie Luo with a “Brother Nie!” before handing the devices back to Jin Yi.
Meanwhile, Waltz, who had been watching the door, was completely dumbstruck.
Th-this isn’t…???
He whirled to look at Fan Qing, then Nie Luo, then back at Fan Qing, and finally slowly turned to Second Young Master Jin.
Fan Qing: …?
He didn’t know what Waltz was thinking, but he could tell the mental scenario in Waltz’s head had to be highly entertaining.
Fan Qing calmly passed by Waltz, casually patting his meticulously styled hair.
“Better not overthink it.”
No matter what mental scenarios Waltz had imagined, they were all completely off.
With that, Fan Qing calmly walked over and settled himself on the armrest of the single sofa where Nie Luo had moved, sitting there with effortless composure.
Waltz was absolutely dumbstruck.
Wait, what?
How—how was he supposed to “overthink” that?
Guan Junhao, who had been sneaking glances, had his pupils practically quivering.
Whoa—hah! Is this… something you get to see without paying?
Only Jin Yi was shameless enough to sit there openly, even contemplating whether to “surrender” for six minutes just to secretly take a photo.
The temptation was strong, but he didn’t dare.
Not because of Old Nie.
The real concern was Fan Qing—he wouldn’t want to give him any trouble.
Alas.
Being the emperor’s puppet really came with its drawbacks—you were always at the mercy of the regent.
Tsk, how frustrating.
The stunned ones weren’t just them—Nie Luo himself was visibly frozen.
He watched Fan Qing approach, thinking the man might say something, only to see him sit casually on the sofa armrest.
The mere motion of stretching his arm ever so slightly meant he could brush against Fan Qing’s rounded form on the sofa. For the first time, Nie Luo felt completely at a loss.
His mind reflexively replayed their previous, more intimate encounters.
Fan Qing’s cool, measured voice. The warmth of his hands, unlike his own.
And the unique metallic touch of the knuckle ring that had “accidentally” brushed against him.
In an instant, Nie Luo felt a searing heat fill his senses as if it were breathing right into his nose.
It was almost like…
He abruptly turned toward Fan Qing.
Fan Qing was looking right at him.
“Brother?”
No.
Nie Luo quickly regained his composure.
It wasn’t him.
He gently closed his eyes.
Though similar, it wasn’t him.
He remained “calm,” as always.
“Nothing.”
Nie Luo adjusted his breathing, forcing his mind clear.
He glanced at the screen in front of him.
“Aren’t we supposed to watch the show? Has it started yet?”
Had he missed something earlier?
A flicker of confusion crossed Fan Qing’s eyes.
But worried about going too far, he lightly engaged Nie Luo in conversation.
“Five minutes left. Brother, do you want something to drink?”
“No, I’ll just watch and leave.”
Nie Luo declined decisively.
“Alright.”
Fan Qing didn’t press the issue. Instead, he stood to fetch his own thermos.
What? He wasn’t going to make Old Nie a special red-and-white mix and—bam—strike while the iron’s hot?
Fan Qing, you’re slipping!
Jin Yi had been watching the whole thing, and even the “penta kill” notification in his ear couldn’t pull him away from observing.
Guan Junhao hovered, unsure whether to speak.
…Forget it. It’s 0:20 already. Can’t save it now.
Anyway, Second Young Master Jin’s skills are far above mine; the one losing out isn’t me.
Nie Luo hadn’t expected Fan Qing to drop the subject entirely either.
However…
Fan Qing’s casual return to the sofa armrest seemed almost too natural.
Nie Luo’s eyes caught the thermos in Fan Qing’s hand and paused.
“…What’s that?”
Curiosity betrayed him.
Jin Yi had been ordering all sorts of strange drinks Nie Luo had never seen before…
“Herbal tea, for health and digestion.”
Nie Luo blinked, unsure how to respond, then subtly glanced at Fan Qing.
Next moment, Fan Qing’s flawless profile filled his vision.
Nie Luo couldn’t help stealing another glance.
Pale, clean skin—no visible foundation or makeup.
And a faint, pleasant scent lingered.
…Why was he even looking at a man like this?
Just as he tried to pull his gaze away, his eyes slid over Fan Qing’s ear and spotted a small, inconspicuous mole.
“Brother?”
The mole suddenly vanished from view as Fan Qing’s face turned directly toward him.
Nie Luo reflexively snapped his gaze away.
“…The show’s starting.”
Fan Qing glanced at the still-playing ads and raised a brow.
This counts as “starting” a show?
But no matter.
He took a sip from his tea, in high spirits.
Even under the high-intensity work of clearing Tenghuang, he had still managed to sleep early and rise early. Looks like Nie Luo should be reasonably satisfied with what he was seeing.
However…
Fan Qing glanced down at his chest, where he had deliberately unbuttoned two buttons, and felt a twinge of regret.
Seems he’d have to wait for the next opportunity.
The room was full of people with hidden thoughts. After the long string of commercials, the show finally officially began.
Waltz and Jian Feiyang weren’t familiar with each other; he self-identified as the lowly subject accompanying the emperor and regent.
He peeked at the show, leaning slightly toward Guan Junhao to whisper.
“How’s the artist Fan Qing brought? Have you seen him before?”
Guan Junhao, having just surrendered a round of the game, gave up on it and answered earnestly.
“You mean Xiao Jian? He’s pretty good—strong variety show presence. Survival shows, I can’t say, but he seems to have good rapport with others.”
Good rapport with others?
Waltz froze.
Was it the way he asked?
Still in a daze, Waltz listened as Guan Junhao, bored from not needing to help Second Young Master Jin, became enthusiastic explaining.
“Actually, you might not know, but recently I sprained my ankle during filming… then, blah blah blah… Xiao Jian performed really well! I recommended to the director that he step in for me… blah blah blah… then Xiao Jian trended online! And then…”
Within the first five minutes, Waltz had been force-fed a rapid-fire summary of past events. He pressed his hands to his throbbing head and slowly cut off Guan Junhao’s recitation.
“He’s on—quick, look!”
“Oh? Where, where?”
Guan Junhao turned to look, giving Waltz the perfect opportunity to scoot quickly over to the single sofa farthest from him.
Accompanying the emperor and the regent—and even a suspected regent consort—watching the show was one thing.
But as a fellow subordinate, why could Guan Junhao be this happy all by himself?
Even their in-game progress was practically being carried by him and Second Young Master Jin!
No one should be allowed this level of joy while others suffer.
Waltz forced himself to stare blankly at the screen, trying to ignore Guan Junhao’s astonished expression.
At the same time… he was a fellow sufferer, so he might as well suffer in misery too.