After getting a definite answer from Ming Qi, it felt as though a heavy stone had been lifted from Wen Yulan’s chest. The weight in his heart vanished, replaced by a lightness that restored his usual gentle and refined demeanor.
He opened the variety show clip Song Yin had sent. Even the most boring jokes managed to draw a faint smile from him. After calmly watching the ten-minute video, he recalled its contents and typed: It’s pretty interesting. That seaside restaurant featured in the show looks nice too—want to check it out?
Song Yin’s eyes lit up at the reply, though he hesitated slightly: But the filming location is in Chang City. It’s kind of far.
Wen Yulan: It’s fine. Classes at Jing University haven’t started yet—we can stay a couple of extra days. I’ll plan the itinerary. Get some rest and don’t stay up too late.
Moved by her fiancé’s thoughtfulness, Song Yin felt sweetness fill her heart.
She tapped her reply: Okay~ Good night [kiss]
Wen Yulan: Good night.
…
Early the next morning, Ming Qi was jolted awake by messages from Meng She.
Meng Mom: My baby!
Meng Mom: Wake up! Reply to me! You’ve really got work this time!
Meng Mom: Look!
Meng Mom: [Image]
Clutching his blanket, Ming Qi sat up groggily. But the moment his eyes landed on the screenshot, he snapped awake. He stared at the chat record in the image three full times—and just as he was about to go for a fourth, Meng She, who had been waiting impatiently, called him directly.
The moment he picked up, Meng She blurted out, “Did you see it?! Director Zhang Cong’s new drama—he wants you to audition for the third male lead!”
This past Spring Festival season, Death Notice had raked in two billion at the box office, becoming the undisputed top hit. And just two days ago, Zhang Cong revealed during a promotional event that a new script was already in preparation, drawing massive attention.
But Meng She had never imagined that Ming Qi would be part of it.
“The audition is in a week. Prepare well—this might really be your chance to turn things around.” Meng She clenched his fist, his voice rising with excitement. “Then we’ll shut up those idiots at Qichuang who look down on you.”
“Don’t worry, Meng-ge. I’ll make it count.”
After hanging up, Ming Qi rolled around on the bed with his blanket, unable to stop himself from laughing.
Even though it was only 7:20 in the morning, he was completely awake now. He threw off the covers, got up, washed up, and headed downstairs. By the time he was done, Cen Jing was momentarily stunned to see him so early.
“Mr. Ming, you’re up early today?”
Ming Qi glanced around the dining room and didn’t see Yu Qinzhou, only then realizing he might have been a little too excited. He smiled sheepishly. “Something really good happened. I couldn’t sleep.”
“What kind of good news has you this excited?”
A slightly hoarse voice came from behind, accompanied by approaching footsteps. The faint moisture from Yu Qinzhou’s recent shower lingered in the air as he stepped beside Ming Qi. With a casual yet intimate motion, his long fingers hooked lightly at the young man’s slightly messy curls before he lowered his gaze to ask.
Ming Qi’s eyes sparkled like scattered starlight as he eagerly shared, “Director Zhang Cong invited me to audition for the third male lead in his new film.”
“Zhang Cong? The director of Death Notice, the one you acted in?”
“You know him, Mr. Yu?”
“Mm. Heard about him from A-Yue.” Yu Qinzhou smiled. “That’s definitely good news. You’re one step closer to your dream, Mr. Ming.”
His fingers slipped from Ming Qi’s hair, gently patting his head. His tone remained relaxed. “But the most important thing right now is breakfast. You need to eat well to have the energy to prepare for your audition.”
Yu Qinzhou’s breakfast was always the same—coffee. Ming Qi’s, however, was far more varied: fragrant soy milk and freshly fried buns that released rich broth when pierced.
Ming Qi took a sip of the soy milk. Slightly sweet but not cloying, it made him squint in satisfaction. “So good.”
Yu Qinzhou let out a soft laugh.
He must be in a really good mood—otherwise, such an ordinary cup of soy milk wouldn’t earn that kind of praise.
“If you like it, you can have Cen Jing prepare it anytime.”
Ming Qi nodded quickly.
When the clock on the wall struck eight, Yu Qinzhou set down his coffee, fastened the loose collar of his shirt, and slipped on his suit jacket.
Ming Qi blinked. “Are you heading out, Mr. Yu?”
Taking the cashmere coat handed over by Cen Jing and draping it over his arm, Yu Qinzhou replied, “Going to work. Gotta earn money to raise my son.”
At some point, Xiao Ba had wandered out of Ming Qi’s room and was now perched on the stairs, meowing softly. Seeing this, Cen Jing quickly went up, picked it up, and brought it to Yu Qinzhou’s side.
The man’s long fingers stroked along the kitten’s back as he smiled and lightly scolded it, “Stay home like a good boy. Stop messing with the flowers in the greenhouse.”
Then he turned to the young man looking up at him, his tone tinged with teasing. “You stay home and behave too. I’ll bring you cake tonight.”
Hearing the way he spoke as if coaxing a child, Ming Qi felt his cheeks warm and couldn’t help but mutter in protest, “I’m already pretty well-behaved.”
…
For the entire day, Ming Qi curled up in the hanging chair in the greenhouse, studying the script Zhang Cong had given him.
Zhang Cong’s new film continued his previous style, though it wasn’t a pure suspense story—it leaned more toward a crime drama. The role he had assigned Ming Qi was particularly interesting: a forensic doctor. But this doctor was actually an undercover agent planted by a criminal organization within the police—refined and upright on the surface, yet secretly committing murder and all kinds of vile acts.
It was a compelling role, but to perform it well—and stand out—would take serious effort.
Ming Qi liked that kind of challenge, and he didn’t want to disappoint Zhang Cong.
Once he got serious, he woke up earlier than Yu Qinzhou and rested later than him.
Holding the cat, Yu Qinzhou stood outside the greenhouse, watching the outline of Ming Qi immersed in work. He gently squeezed the kitten’s paw and clicked his tongue. “Your daddy only has eyes for the script, not you.”
Even so, he did not step forward to interrupt.
A week passed in the blink of an eye.
On the morning of the audition, Meng She was even more anxious than Ming Qi. At six in the morning, he jumped out of bed, determined to personally drive Ming Qi there. Hearing that, Ming Qi’s still-sleepy mind snapped awake as if doused with cold water.
“No need, Meng-ge. I can go by myself.”
“How is that okay?”
“It is, it is,” Ming Qi coaxed him. “If you come pick me up, you’ll have to make a detour. It’s actually closer if I go on my own.”
That was true.
Reluctantly, Meng She agreed. “Fine, then take a cab.”
“Got it.”
But when Ming Qi finished breakfast, got dressed, and prepared to leave Westview Bay, he found Yu Qinzhou—who should have already gone to work—still sitting at the dining table. Catching sight of Ming Qi on the staircase, Yu Qinzhou asked, “Why are you standing there?”
Holding the railing, Ming Qi quickly came down. Xiao Ba followed behind, boldly leaping down the steps—almost flattening itself into a pancake before Ming Qi caught it in time. Carrying the kitten over, he asked instead, “Why haven’t you gone to the office yet, Mr. Yu?”
“I’m taking you to your audition first.”
“…Huh?”
“What do you mean ‘huh’? Such an important day—won’t you give me a chance to be involved?”
Ming Qi laughed at that and didn’t argue, following him into the Cullinan from before. The car heading to the company came with a driver. Both of them sat in the back seat. Ming Qi had dressed warmly, but with the heater blowing, he soon felt too hot and quietly took off his long down jacket.
A flash of red caught Yu Qinzhou’s eye.
His gaze narrowed slightly as it settled on Ming Qi’s slender neck, where a red cord lay against his pale skin.
“You hung the ring?”
Ming Qi nodded.
During his time at Westview Bay, he had noticed that Yu Qinzhou never took off his wedding ring. Meanwhile, his own finger was often bare, which gave off the impression that he wasn’t taking the marriage seriously. But as an actor, wearing a ring on his ring finger was too conspicuous. After some thought, he decided to thread it onto a red cord and wear it as a pendant instead.
Besides, if Old Master Yu ever showed up unexpectedly, he could easily pull out the ring as proof of their “deep affection.”
“It looks good like that too.”
Of course, it would look even better worn on the hand.
Yu Qinzhou thought to himself.
The Cullinan soon arrived at the audition location Zhang Cong had set.
Looking out through the window, Ming Qi saw cars packed densely everywhere. It was clear just how many actors had been drawn in by the massive success of Death Notice.
“Nervous?” Yu Qinzhou asked.
Ming Qi pressed a hand to his chest and nodded. “A little.”
But perhaps because he had prepared thoroughly, that bit of nervousness was almost negligible. After taking a deep breath to steady himself, he opened the car door, leaned against the window, and waved. “I’ll head in first.”
Seeing the ease in his expression, Yu Qinzhou smiled. “Good luck.”
“If I land the role, I’ll treat you to dinner.”
“Deal.”
The black Cullinan drove off, and Ming Qi turned toward the building. Just as he took a step, a voice suddenly called out from behind—
“Ming Xiaoqi.”
His body tensed instantly. Stiffly, he turned his head—only to see Meng She narrowing his eyes and staring straight at him.
Ming Qi: “……”
Meng She: “……”
On the busy street, the two stood in silence, staring at each other.
Ten seconds later, Meng She finally spoke. “The role hasn’t even been decided yet, and you’re already taking a ride that expensive?”