That night’s dream replayed itself.
The image of Yu Qinzhou—his gaze unconsciously drifting below the man’s waist—reappeared. But this time, Yu Qinzhou didn’t say, “Not today. You’ve just recovered—you can’t handle it.”
Instead, he casually undid the buttons of his shirt, letting it fall open, and leaned in close.
They were so near that Ming Qi could see the small red mole at the corner of the man’s eye reflected in his pupils. As his thoughts were completely stolen by that single detail, Yu Qinzhou grasped his wrist. Heat spread from their contact, and his fingers were guided, little by little, to the man’s waist.
Click.
The belt came undone.
Yu Qinzhou’s expression was gentle, teasing. “If you want to look, then look properly.”
—and then Ming Qi woke up in shock.
Heart racing, he didn’t dare close his eyes again. He lay there staring into the darkness until dawn.
By the time he sat at the table eating custard buns, he had finally calmed down—only for a voice message from Yu Qinzhou to arrive.
The moment he played it, the man’s deep voice echoed exactly like in his dream.
The bun slipped from his hand back onto the plate.
His mind filled, once again, with inappropriate images.
At the Civil Affairs Bureau, Ming Qi arrived early and sat waiting.
Across from him, a man in a cap—He the paparazzo—quietly took a seat and struck up a conversation, fishing for information.
But before he could get much out of Ming Qi, the latter suddenly brightened and waved toward the entrance.
He followed Ming Qi’s gaze—
—and saw Yu Qinzhou walking in.
Dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit with a matching overcoat, his broad shoulders and narrow waist gave him the bearing of a runway model.
He the paparazzo couldn’t help but think: Ming Qi may not be famous, but his taste is excellent.
This man was seriously handsome.
Soon, the two of them went to take their photo.
Ming Qi, who was used to cameras, found himself stiff for the first time.
Yu Qinzhou lightly touched his hand, slipping another piece of candy into his palm.
The shutter clicked.
The result, unexpectedly, was perfect.
By the time they received their marriage certificates, everything felt surreal.
Yu Qinzhou glanced at a message from his cousin:
Min Zhengyue: Bro, I just saw a guy who looks exactly like you getting a marriage certificate with that small-time actor Ming Qi.
Yu Qinzhou calmly opened the certificate, took a photo, and sent it back.
Two minutes later, his phone rang.
“BRO, YOUR ACCOUNT’S BEEN HACKED!!!”
Later, in the car, Yu Qinzhou took out a ring—two intertwined vines set with countless tiny green diamonds.
“Trade?” he asked.
Marriage certificate for wedding ring.
Ming Qi didn’t even hesitate.
That evening, as Ming Qi lay in bed scrolling through news, his eyes froze on a trending topic:
#Fang Qing assaults extra on set#
The video showed Fang Qing kicking and berating a middle-aged extra who had accidentally bumped into him.
The internet exploded.
And somewhere behind the scenes, the paparazzi studio—now backed by Min Zhengyue—was just getting started.
Fang Qing wanted to argue that ending up in this situation was just bad luck. But on second thought, if he had exercised a bit more restraint, he would not have been caught with something to hold against him. For a moment, he had nothing to say, and could only reply in a cold voice, “Got it.”
While chaos erupted on Fang Qing’s side, Ming Qi was comfortably tucked into his soft blankets, finishing up the gossip and scrolling through the internet’s sharpest comments before finally logging out of Weibo and switching over to WeChat. Two minutes earlier, Min Zhengyue had sent him two messages. He tapped them open.
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: [Image]
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: Be honest—did you buy this for Brother Yu?
Ming Qi zoomed in on the picture. It was a close-up shot of a man’s hand from palm to wrist: long fingers resting casually on an open, original-edition book. A vine-pattern wedding ring curled around the ring finger, while a sapphire cufflink gleamed against the cuff of a crisp white shirt, glowing softly under warm, dim lighting.
As Ming Qi studied the image, Min Zhengyue, still getting no reply, kept sending messages: I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him dressed this neatly even at home.
Ming Qi: “……”
Snapping out of it, he had to admit Min Zhengyue was probably right.
During the brief time they had spent together at Westview Bay—when he had been brought there by Yu Qinzhou after passing out from a fever—even when Yu Qinzhou wore a dress shirt, he never buttoned it all the way up to the collar. Only on the day they registered their marriage had it been different.
Ming Qi replied: I bought it.
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: [I knew it.JPG]
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: No wonder he even made a post about it on Moments 🙂
…Posted on Moments?
Curious, Ming Qi exited the chat and opened his Moments feed. Aside from his college classmates, most of his contacts were minor actors or crew members from the industry—his feed was always overflowing with updates. He scrolled for quite a while before finally spotting the post under the contact name [Mr. Yu].
It was just that one photo. No caption at all—yet somehow, it said everything.
After adding Yu Qinzhou as a friend, Ming Qi had checked his Moments before. If he had to describe it, it was like a barren wasteland—not even a blade of grass in sight. And now, this photo felt like the very first flower blooming in that wasteland.
Ming Qi gave it a like.
Messages from Min Zhengyue kept pouring in: My brother’s definitely going to be so happy he won’t be able to sleep tonight.
Ming Qi made a slightly awkward face: It’s not that exaggerated.
It was just a pair of cufflinks. To most people, a five-figure price tag might seem extravagant, but to someone like Yu Qinzhou—who owned watches worth tens of millions—it was just a small trinket.
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: Then why would he post on Moments?! He never posts!
Ming Qi thought to himself: That’s different.
Wasn’t this meant to provoke Old Master Yu a little? Of course he had to show off their “affection.”
Since he could not tell Min Zhengyue the truth, Ming Qi simply changed the subject.
The young master of the Min family was not only friendly but also incredibly talkative. The two of them chatted enthusiastically about all kinds of industry gossip. Ming Qi’s previously drowsy mind became completely alert. By the time they finally stopped and he checked the time—it was 3:26 a.m.
Ming Qi: =.=
If he did not go to sleep now, he was about to turn into a panda.
He slept all the way until eleven the next morning. Fortunately, everything that needed packing had already been taken care of the day before.
At exactly two in the afternoon, Yu Qinzhou arrived with people to help him move. After locking up the apartment, Ming Qi pulled his mask up slightly and said to Yu Qinzhou, “Let’s go.”
Returning to Westview Bay this time felt entirely different.
The young housekeeper was already waiting at the entrance with others. When he saw Ming Qi walking behind Yu Qinzhou, his smile deepened. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ming.”
Ming Qi nodded and smiled back. “Good afternoon.”
As Yu Qinzhou led Ming Qi upstairs to the third floor, he explained casually, “The housekeeper’s surname is Cen. If I’m not around, you can go to him for anything.”
“It’s the same room as before, but it’s been renovated a bit. Take a look—see if you like it.”
He pushed open the door to the second bedroom. Ming Qi paused two steps behind him, his gaze already sweeping across the interior.
The once cold and monotonous room had been completely transformed. The plain white curtains had been replaced with soft lake-blue ones layered with sheer gauze, which fluttered in the breeze to reveal a stunning view outside. A thick, plush carpet now covered the floor. Tasteful decorations and empty photo frames sat on the bedside table. The formerly plain sofa had been replaced with a warmer-toned design, with a small table beside it holding an elegant vase filled with white camellias.
The whole room felt warm and inviting.
And clearly, a lot of thought had gone into it.
Ming Qi turned to Yu Qinzhou, joy shining in his eyes. “Thank you. I really like it.”
Yu Qinzhou was very satisfied with that answer.
Hooking a finger into the hood of Ming Qi’s sweatshirt, he tugged lightly, pulling him along as he spoke, “I cleared out half of my study for you. I also had some books related to your field prepared. If you’re interested, you can take a look.”
The moment he said that, Ming Qi’s attention shifted completely—no longer caring about being dragged along.
He froze for a moment, then hurriedly said, “I don’t really use a study, and your study is full of documents and files—”
“We’re already married. What do those documents matter?”
The words were spoken calmly, yet they struck Ming Qi straight in the heart.
Yu Qinzhou trusted him.
From proposing the contract marriage to saying this now, everything made that clear.
He lifted his head, revealing a strikingly beautiful face. “I promise I won’t touch your things carelessly.”
The seriousness in his expression made Yu Qinzhou want to laugh, though he still responded, “Mm. I trust you.”
Then his tone shifted slightly. “For now, you’ll stay here. Once I pick out our marital home, we’ll move again.”
Ming Qi almost asked: There’s going to be another house?
But before the words left his mouth, he understood.
Another act for Old Master Yu.
He nodded obediently. “Okay.”
…
After finishing unpacking his clothes and books, Butler Cen knocked on the door. “Mr. Ming, sir is waiting for you in the greenhouse.”
The greenhouse?
Following the path toward the back of the villa, Ming Qi could vaguely make out the silhouette of a man inside the transparent glass structure. He stepped closer. To the right of a wall covered in climbing roses, the man sat casually on a cushion. A small stove had been set up in front of him, and the rich aroma of tea mixed with milk drifted into Ming Qi’s nose, making his eyes light up slightly.
“You’re here?” Yu Qinzhou gestured for him to sit across from him. As he lifted his hand, the rolled-up cuff revealed a lean wrist, its cool, pale tone flashing briefly in Ming Qi’s sight—drawing his gaze without him even realizing it.
Ming Qi sat down, and Yu Qinzhou pushed the freshly brewed milk tea toward him. Just as he was about to try it, something brushed lightly against his ankle. Startled, he looked down—and the moment he saw the small, soft, fluffy creature, his eyes widened instantly.
“This—”
Yu Qinzhou leaned back against the cushion and asked with a smile, “Don’t like it?”
How could that be?
He loved it.
Carefully, Ming Qi scooped the little golden kitten into his arms. The kitten was still very young, its meows soft and milky. Ming Qi lowered his head to coax it; when the kitten let out a tiny “meow,” he responded with an equally soft one, his voice gentle and slightly trembling at the end—sweet and warm. The sound landed in Yu Qinzhou’s ears, darkening his gaze just a little.
Only after a long while did Ming Qi look up again, his eyes filled with starlike laughter. “What made you think of getting a cat?”
“Cen Jing’s cat just had a litter, and he was looking for people to adopt them.” Yu Qinzhou’s gaze fell on the kitten as it treated Ming Qi like a climbing frame, inching its way up his cream-colored hoodie. His voice softened. “I remembered you said you used to have one, so I asked for one. You can take care of it normally. If you go out for filming, I’ll take over.”
Ming Qi realized that every single thing Yu Qinzhou did landed precisely where it mattered most to him.
The tea leaves from before. The milk candy on the day they registered their marriage. And now, this little kitten.
After Dabai had passed on, Ming Qi’s world had become even more plain and empty. He often found himself spacing out alone. Later, Wen Yulan had suggested he get another pet, but between classes and occasional filming work, Ming Qi simply did not have enough time to care for one.
Now, things were different.
The kitten would have a second dad to take care of it.
“Does it have a name yet?” Ming Qi asked.
“Not yet. You can name it.”
“Today’s the eighth, so let’s call it Xiao Ba.” Ming Qi lifted the kitten’s two front paws and called out cheerfully, “Xiao Ba.”
Yu Qinzhou found it amusing.
One was Seven, one was Eight—quite a coincidence.
“Want me to take a photo for you and post it on Moments?” Yu Qinzhou gestured toward the small stove, then at Xiao Ba.
Without hesitation, Ming Qi handed over his phone, smiling with curved eyes. “Thanks, Mr. Yu. Make sure it looks good.”
There was nothing troublesome about it—
Yu Qinzhou held the phone in his right hand, his finger pressing down. With a click, the photo was taken.
The image captured many elements: the small stove and the milk tea, Ming Qi and the kitten—and, tucked casually into the corner, his left hand wearing a wedding ring.