Meng She was completely captivated by his dream car. Adjusting his stance, he leaned forward to get a better look, speaking as he stared. “I’m telling you, this is definitely the one you got this morning. That license plate with the 6s and 8s is way too distinctive.”
Ming Qi said nothing.
Meng She rubbed his chin and sidestepped, shifting from viewing the Cullinan’s side to its front. The Parthenon-style grille and wide-set LED headlights silently radiated wealth.
“So handsome!”
Ming Qi still said nothing.
Meng She moved again, half his body nearly pressed against a streetlamp. This time, he noticed a tall, long-legged young man standing beside the car, dressed in a camel-colored cashmere coat. The man leaned casually against the door, head slightly lowered, long fingers tapping lightly on his phone as if replying to messages.
Even from afar, his presence was striking.
Meng She added another comment, “Figures—the guy driving a Cullinan is even better-looking than the car.”
Ming Qi remained silent.
Finally sensing something off, Meng She dragged his gaze away from the car and the man and turned back.
His artist was facing away from him, shoulders slightly hunched, long slender fingers flying across the phone screen—typing so fast they practically blurred.
Fang Qing wanted to argue that going through all this was just bad luck—but on second thought, if he had exercised a bit more restraint in the past, he would not have left himself open to being caught out. At a loss for words, he could only reply coldly, “Got it.”
While things on Fang Qing’s side were in complete chaos, Ming Qi was comfortably curled up in his soft blanket, happily finishing his gossip scroll and reading through the sharp, hilarious comments from netizens before exiting 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 enlarged the picture. It was a close-up shot from a man’s palm to his wrist. Long fingers rested casually on an open original-edition book. A vine-shaped wedding ring clung to the ring finger, and a sapphire cufflink was set into the cuff of a snow-white shirt, gleaming under the warm, dim light.
As Ming Qi studied the image, Min Zhengyue, getting no reply, kept sending messages: I’ve known him for years, and I’ve never seen him dress this neatly at home.
Ming Qi: “…”
Snapping back to himself, he realized Min Zhengyue was probably right.
During the brief time he had stayed at Xijing Bay after fainting from a fever and being brought back by Yu Qinzhou, even when Yu Qinzhou wore a shirt, he never buttoned it all the way up to the collar. Only on the day they got their marriage certificate had he looked 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 special Moments post for it 🙂
…Posted on Moments?
Curious, Ming Qi exited the chat and opened Moments. Aside from university classmates, most of his contacts were minor actors and crew members, so his feed was constantly flooded with updates. He scrolled for quite a while before finally spotting the post under the name [Mr. Yu].
There was only that one picture—no caption. Yet somehow, it said everything.
Ever since adding Yu Qinzhou, Ming Qi had seen his Moments before. If he had to describe it, it was like a barren wasteland—nothing grew there. And now, this single photo was like the first flower blooming in that desert.
Ming Qi tapped “like.”
Min Zhengyue’s messages kept coming: My brother won’t be able to sleep tonight from happiness.
Ming Qi made a face: It’s not that exaggerated.
It was just a pair of cufflinks. The five-figure price might seem expensive to ordinary people, but for someone like Yu Qinzhou, who owned watches worth close to ten million, it was nothing more than a small trinket.
Mysterious Gossip Dealer Your Dad Yue: He even posted on Moments! He never posts!
Ming Qi thought to himself: That’s different.
Isn’t this just to irritate Old Master Yu? Of course he had to show off a little affection.
Since he could not tell Min Zhengyue the truth, he simply changed the subject.
The young master of the Min family was not only friendly to a fault but also extremely talkative. The two of them chatted enthusiastically about all sorts of gossip in the industry. Ming Qi’s drowsy mind became fully alert, and when they finally stopped, he checked the time—it was 3:26 a.m.
Ming Qi: =.=
If he did not sleep now, he would turn into a panda.
He slept until eleven the next morning. Fortunately, he had already packed everything the day before.
At exactly two in the afternoon, Yu Qinzhou arrived with people to help him move. After locking the door, Ming Qi pulled his mask up and said to Yu Qinzhou, “Let’s go.”
Returning to Xijing Bay felt completely different this time.
The young butler was already waiting at the entrance with staff. Seeing Ming Qi walking behind Yu Qinzhou, his smile deepened. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ming.”
Ming Qi nodded with a smile. “Good afternoon.”
As Yu Qinzhou led him up to the third floor, he explained casually, “The butler’s surname is Cen. If I’m not around, you can go to him for anything.”
“The room is the same as before, just renovated a bit. See if you like it.”
He pushed open the door to the guest bedroom. Ming Qi stood a couple of steps behind him, but his gaze had already fallen inside.
The once cold and monotonous room had completely changed. The pure white curtains had been replaced with soft lake-blue ones, layered with sheer fabric that lifted gently in the breeze, revealing a stunning view outside. A thick, plush carpet covered the floor. Tasteful decorations and empty photo frames sat on the bedside table. The previously plain sofa had been swapped out for a warm-toned one, with a small table beside it holding a delicate vase filled with white camellias.
It looked 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 satisfied with the answer.
Hooking a finger into the hood of Ming Qi’s hoodie, he tugged lightly, guiding him along as he said, “I cleared out half of my study for you. Had someone prepare some books related to your field. If you’re interested, you can take a look.”
That immediately pulled Ming Qi’s attention away from being dragged along.
He froze for a moment, then quickly said, “I don’t really use a study, and yours is full of documents—”
“We’ve already registered the marriage. What’s a few documents in the study?”
The tone was calm, but it struck straight into Ming Qi’s heart.
Yu Qinzhou trusted him.
From proposing the contract marriage to saying this now, everything pointed to that fact.
Ming Qi tilted his head up, revealing his delicate features. “I won’t touch your things carelessly.”
The seriousness in his expression made Yu Qinzhou find it amusing, but he still humored him. “Mm, I trust you.”
Then his tone shifted slightly. “For now, stay here. Once I pick out a wedding house, we’ll move.”
Ming Qi instinctively wanted to ask: There’s going to be another house?
But before the words came out, he understood.
Again, something to put on a show for Old Master Yu.
He nodded obediently. “Okay.”
“I’m going to the restroom—you guys go ahead and eat.” Feeling a little guilty under Yu Qinzhou’s gaze, Ming Qi made an excuse and slipped out of the private room. A few minutes later, he came out of the restroom and was about to wash his hands when he realized Yu Qinzhou was already standing at the sink.
He paused, surprised. “Mr. Yu, why are you here?”
Yu Qinzhou let out a soft laugh. “Why else would I come to the restroom?”
Oh.
But—
“You were really fast…” Ming Qi blurted instinctively, but before he could finish, Yu Qinzhou raised a brow and completed the sentence for him, “Of course I came to block the big star.”
Ming Qi: “…”
Embarrassed, he muttered, “I’m not a big star yet.”
Yu Qinzhou replied, “That’s only a matter of time. Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Ming.”
Water still clung to Yu Qinzhou’s hands. He casually pulled a paper towel and carefully dried each finger, his movements meticulous. As he did, he looked at Ming Qi through the mirror and asked, seemingly offhand, “Why are you still hiding things from your manager? You’ll be seeing each other more often in the future—he’ll have to come to Xijing Bay to pick you up sooner or later. You might as well tell him now.”
Ming Qi knew he was referring to their marriage.
In truth, Ming Qi did not want to keep it from Meng She. Not only were they work partners who would inevitably encounter situations like the one Yu Qinzhou mentioned, but after years of working side by side, he also did not want to lie to him.
But—
“…Brother Meng has a really big mouth,” Ming Qi explained. “When he drinks, he answers whatever people ask. And he loves promoting me to others.”
Yu Qinzhou’s interest was piqued. “For example?”
Ming Qi hesitated for two seconds, suppressing his embarrassment before speaking in a low voice, “When we were filming Death Notice, the two lead actors took me along to dinner. Brother Meng thought it meant they approved of me, so he got so happy he drank two bottles of liquor. Then he hugged one leg of mine and one leg of Senior Ji’s and started talking about me non-stop.”
Aside from praising him, there were also things like—
Back in college, after seeing news about abused stray cats and dogs, he had foolishly gotten scammed out of two hundred thousand by a fake “rescue organization.”
Two years ago, when he had a fever and was delirious, he hugged Meng She and cried, calling, “Dad, I miss you so much.”
And once, while playing in the snow, he slipped and could not get up for a long time. In the end, a seven- or eight-year-old kid used a smartwatch to call 911 for him, and it turned out he had injured his waist.
The next day, Ming Qi used the excuse of finishing his scenes to run off as fast as a rabbit, too embarrassed to face Ji Xinran and Bu Hongfang.
“But it’s unrealistic for Brother Meng not to drink,” Ming Qi said, pressing his lips together. “I’m still a small-time actor. At banquets, I can’t spoil the mood for certain people. If I can’t drink, Brother Meng will step in for me… so I figured it’s better to keep it from him.”
I see.
But Yu Qinzhou focused on something else. “Do film crews always make you drink at these gatherings?”
Ming Qi thought for a moment and shook his head. “Not all directors and producers are like that. Director Zhang Cong, for example—he does organize dinners, but people usually just drink beverages.”
Then he asked curiously, “What about your work? Do you have to attend drinking parties?”
Yu Qinzhou replied, “At gatherings where I’m present, no one would dare play that kind of game.”
Ming Qi: “…”
That made sense.