Just moments ago, Min Zhengyue had shared gossip about Qiu Tuo going to a men’s clinic and possibly juggling eight relationships. Now Meng She was telling him he might work with Qiu Tuo again. Ming Qi found himself at a loss for words.
“What, stunned into happiness?” Meng She teased after getting no response for a while. “This is a rare opportunity.”
But Ming Qi frowned slightly. After thinking it over, he asked cautiously, “The eight relatio—uh, is Actor Qiu the male lead?”
“Of course. With his status, there’s no way he’d take a supporting role,” Meng She replied. “Though it is surprising he’s doing a thriller.”
Qiu Tuo’s acting style was very distinct—he was known for righteous roles in action films and rarely stepped outside that comfort zone. Honestly, even Meng She found it hard to believe he was taking on a thriller. Thinking about it, Qiu Tuo hadn’t touched this genre since entering the industry. That alone would generate plenty of buzz for Zhuo Jin’s new film.
Because of that, Zhuo Jin would definitely prioritize Qiu Tuo in everything.
On top of that, Meng She had learned that Qiu Tuo only had a two-month window in his schedule. That meant if he were confirmed as the lead, filming would have to start very soon.
“So if you’re in, I’ll go talk to the assistant right away,” Meng She said.
But Ming Qi shook his head instead, his voice softening. “Bro, I’m going to pass on this one. Just tell them I’ve been busy with classes lately and don’t have time.”
“Pass?” Meng She almost didn’t react in time.
He thought he knew Ming Qi well. In the past, as long as a role was suitable, Ming Qi would take it—no matter how big or small—treating it as a chance to grow. And there was no doubt that working on Zhuo Jin’s film would bring greater benefits. So why refuse this time?
They had always been straightforward with each other about work, never hiding things to avoid misunderstandings. So he asked directly, “Why?”
Why else? Because of the “eight relationships” rumor.
The clinic visit alone wasn’t the issue. But if the rumor about juggling multiple relationships turned out to be true and got exposed, the entire production might collapse before it even got off the ground.
Ming Qi didn’t want to waste time on that risk.
He briefly explained his reasoning, leaving Meng She stunned. After a long pause, Meng She rubbed his temple and said regretfully, “Alright, then forget it. Your reputation is rising anyway—if you pass on this one, there’ll be another. Good things are worth waiting for.”
Ming Qi nodded, but then Meng She suddenly asked, “Wait—how did you even find out about that?”
Ming Qi stiffened for a moment before replying, “I have a friend who runs a paparazzi studio. That’s what they said.”
Meng She muttered in surprise, “Since when do you have a friend like that…” while already thinking about how to politely decline the offer.
He didn’t question the explanation. Maybe Ming Qi had always seemed too well-behaved—so it never occurred to him that Ming Qi might now have his own little secrets.
After ending the call, Ming Qi sat cross-legged on the sofa for a while, resting his chin on his hand as he looked around the living room. He had lived here for six or seven years, and everything held memories. Now that he was about to move out, he felt a bit reluctant.
With a soft sigh, he finally got up, slipped into his fluffy slippers, and went into the bedroom to start packing his daily necessities.
Even though he would be moving to Xijing Bay to live with Yu Qinzhou, he had no intention of emptying the place completely…
After all, someday, he would move back.
The paparazzo: “…I get the logic, but our studio just changed bosses. He says even if we’re universally hated paparazzi, we still have to be the kind that sticks to the facts.”
The manager held up a hand. “Five hundred thousand.”
The paparazzo hesitated. “Our boss has a bad temper. What if I get fired—”
The manager gritted his teeth. “One million!”
The paparazzo beamed, downed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, and said, “Deal. I’ll send you the contract later. No deposits—full payment only.”
Having secured a lucrative deal, he turned and left in high spirits, leaving behind a seething manager who thought bitterly that Fang Qing had better keep Gao Heng, that golden sponsor, firmly pleased—so he could earn that million back with interest.
…
The temperature dropped sharply on the fifth and sixth days of the new year, so Ming Qi didn’t go out.
He sat cross-legged on a cushion, brewing fruit tea and sipping it slowly. At the same time, he studied a book on acting, occasionally twirling a pen and jotting down his thoughts.
The life felt calm—maybe even a little dull—but Ming Qi liked it.
Near evening, he ordered groceries online and made himself hot pot at home. After sending a photo of dinner to Meng She, he received a thumbs-up in reply.
Meng Mom: My kid’s really grown up—no matter how wild the storm online gets, you stay steady as ever.
77.: [Smug cat.JPG]
Over the past couple of days, because the male lead of Lost had accidentally exposed that Fang Qing’s role had been a replacement, Fang Qing’s fans had gone berserk online—arguing with the male lead’s fans one moment, then flooding Ming Qi’s Weibo with vicious insults the next. Unfortunately, Ming Qi didn’t have many die-hard fans, and their fighting power was weak; their counterattacks quickly fizzled out.
Fang Qing’s fans grew even more smug, their insults increasingly harsh, so Ming Qi simply logged out of Weibo and stopped looking.
After chatting briefly with Meng She, he ended the conversation.
With a movie playing in the background, Ming Qi leisurely finished his hot pot over the course of two full hours. By the time he washed the dishes and came back out, there was a new message on his phone—from Yu Qinzhou.
Over the past few days, they hadn’t been in much contact, since Yu Qinzhou had been abroad. This was his first message in three days.
Y: Do you really not need me to pick you up tomorrow for the registration?
Only then did Ming Qi suddenly realize—
Tomorrow was already the seventh day of the new year.
The Civil Affairs Bureau would reopen, and he and Yu Qinzhou were about to become legally married.
He couldn’t quite describe what he felt. There was a vague, inexplicable nervousness. Pressing a hand lightly over his chest, he lowered his gaze and replied: No need, I’ll go by myself. It’s only about half an hour away.
Y: Okay.
Seeing the conversation about to end, Ming Qi scrolled up through their chat history and realized that Yu Qinzhou was always the one initiating. In comparison, he seemed rather distant.
After thinking for a moment, he typed: Have you already returned from abroad, Mr. Yu?
Y: Yes. I brought you a gift.
Ming Qi touched his nose, thanking him while thinking that Yu Qinzhou had actually remembered to bring him something. Counting the tea from before, this was already the second time Yu Qinzhou had given him a gift.
Maybe he should give Yu Qinzhou something in return. But what?
After thinking for a long time, Ming Qi pulled out his tablet, opened several luxury brand websites, and started browsing. Resting his chin in one hand, he swiped and paused with the other, occasionally holding his finger on the screen for a long moment before taking a screenshot of something he liked.
By the time his shoulders began to ache, two hours had passed.
Opening his gallery, he was stunned to find more than twenty screenshots.
Ming Qi: =.=
After another half hour of careful selection, eight remained.
There were ties, cufflinks, glasses, hats, and more. He thought they all looked good, and his long-absent indecisiveness flared up again. In the end, he made a spinning wheel app and left it to fate.
A few seconds later, the pointer stopped on a pair of sapphire cufflinks.
That’s the one!
…
The next morning, at seven o’clock, Ming Qi got up.
He had returned late the previous night after going to the Dongyu Mall, and though exhausted, he couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was filled with thoughts of registering his marriage with Yu Qinzhou.
Eventually, he had searched online: What to do if you can’t sleep the night before getting your marriage certificate?
The top comment was explosive: Wear yourself out and you’ll fall asleep.
Ming Qi: “…”
He quietly closed his phone.
…He really shouldn’t search weird things anymore.