Le Si Yan’s apartment was located in a well-known high-end residential complex in the capital city, priced at one hundred thousand per square meter. Nearby there were parks and a golf course, making it a top choice among many celebrities looking to buy property.
In the past, Le Si Yan could not even imagine affording a place like this. It was only after relying on Shi Yong—securing one role and endorsement after another—that he managed to get here.
And now, he was sitting on the sofa in the living room, legs spread apart, elbows resting on his knees, fingers interlocked tightly, staring straight at his agent standing in front of him on a call.
If it were usual times, Le Si Yan might have even laughed—after all, just a few days ago, it had been Shi Yong sitting calmly on the sofa while watching him pace back and forth in frustration over the failed attempt to frame Ming Qi.
But now the roles were reversed.
Shi Yong’s expression was so dark it looked like ink could drip from it. After the call was mercilessly hung up, he took a deep breath while listening to the busy tone. His grip on the phone tightened, and then—bang—he slammed it into the sofa.
The phone bounced once and nearly fell to the floor, but Shi Yong didn’t even glance at it. Instead, he let out a cold laugh.
“I never realized Ming Qi was this lucky.”
As for the Tang Ke role incident, he could still chalk it up to Ming Qi and Meng She being alert, smart, and cautious. But today’s situation?
After repeated thinking, he recalled that two days before New Year’s Eve, Meng She had posted a vague WeChat Moment. When he looked into it, he discovered Ming Qi had just joined a production crew that treated people badly—so badly that someone even developed a fever from it.
Shi Yong was always good at reading people. He immediately judged that the director must dislike Ming Qi and have some kind of grievance against him. There was no need to even ask why.
He directly obtained the director’s contact information and tested him—and it turned out to be exactly as expected.
The director even spoke as if he had found a kindred spirit, rambling on:
“That surnamed Ming kid is too arrogant. A little lesson is good—he needs to learn how things work in this industry.”
So the footage was handed over to Shi Yong, and an assistant was even arranged to work with him using a burner account. That assistant, whether overly eager or simply also disliking Ming Qi, added:
“Actually, it wasn’t just the crew members who caught a cold from the freezing weather. Lu Yongning also got sick, but his fever probably wasn’t related to those four hours. He only showed up on set once.”
Shi Yong, being shrewd, immediately caught the implication. He looked at the assistant with appreciation.
“Do it your way. If it’s done well, I’ll reward you generously.”
But what Shi Yong never expected was that Lu Yongning really did get sick—but the reason was something far more scandalous: a winter outdoor affair.
Now things had blown up completely. Lu Yongning’s scandal was known everywhere, and he even blamed Shi Yong’s side for it.
“Damn it. What is going on with this marketing account called Cloth-Clad Detective? Is their brain broken? Instead of using Lu Yongning’s scandal to blackmail people for money, they just dumped it all online just to clear Ming Qi’s name? Since when were these black-hearted gossip accounts so selfless?”
At this point, Le Si Yan was no longer interested in Cloth-Clad Detective or Lu Yongning. He only wanted to know one thing.
“Earlier they said Ming Qi was injured on set, but Director Zhang Cong didn’t replace him. Today he even publicly liked the post. It looks like he really values Ming Qi. Does that mean the role in Undercover is really no longer mine?”
He was not a naturally gifted actor; everything he had came from effort. Shi Yong, though manipulative, understood one thing clearly—ability must match opportunity, or it would be useless no matter how many roles he secured.
He was relieved that Le Si Yan understood this, which was why Le Si Yan had worked relentlessly for the audition for the forensic role, studying by day and practicing by night, barely sleeping from the time he received the notice until the audition at Huachang Building.
And yet, in the end, he got nothing—and even offended Lu Yongning, earning his resentment.
Just thinking about it made Le Si Yan feel suffocated with frustration.
Shi Yong knew his dissatisfaction. Rubbing his temples, he said in a low voice:
“This matter has no way back now.”
Since the second move had failed, they could only proceed to the third.
“Stay home for the next couple of days. I’ll try to contact Lu Yongning again. Since the video wasn’t leaked by us, there may still be room for recovery.”
“And if there isn’t?” Le Si Yan asked.
Shi Yong let out a cold snort.
“The evidence on you has already been cleaned up thoroughly. Even if he wants to expose something, it’ll just be baseless accusations. The public will think he’s lashing out and dragging people down with him. It might even win you some sympathy.”
Without saying more, Shi Yong stood up and walked toward the door.
…
Meanwhile, the so-called “very righteous and selfless” marketing account received a very large red envelope from Ming Qi.
When he saw it, he felt a little embarrassed and immediately messaged Ming Qi:
Brother, you don’t have to be so polite. Mr. Lu already paid me.
If it could be said that the person behind the account “[Bu Yi Shen Tan]” was a paparazzo from Min Zhengyue’s studio, then for Ming Qi this level of shock only reached fifty percent. But hearing Yu Qinzhou’s name come out of Bu Yi Shen Tan’s mouth pushed that shock value all the way to one hundred percent.
Ming Qi sent a question-mark emoji sticker.
Bu Yi Shen Tan: Brother, you didn’t know? Young Master Min said Mr. Yu basically bought the material I had in hand, so in the end I’m still making money. You don’t need to be so polite with me / silly grin.jpg
Ming Qi stared at that reply for a long time, then turned his head to look at the man beside him. But the Maybach had already arrived at the underground garage of Westview Bay. Yu Qinzhou opened the door and got out. Noticing Ming Qi’s gaze, he casually rested one hand on the car door and leaned down to look at him.
“Is the new car comfortable to ride in?”
Ming Qi knew Yu Qinzhou was teasing him. He seemed to enjoy doing that kind of thing.
So he pretended not to notice and answered seriously, “The Cullinan is still more comfortable.”
“The Cullinan is in for maintenance. Should I drive that one to pick you up tomorrow?”
After getting out of the car, Ming Qi followed the direction Yu Qinzhou was pointing and looked over. The familiar golden spirit emblem made the corner of his eye twitch. He quickly shook his head.
“I think the Maybach is enough.”
Low-profile is better.
After teasing Ming Qi, Yu Qinzhou walked toward the living room. Ming Qi, phone still in hand, thinking about what Bu Yi Shen Tan had just said, unconsciously followed him into the living room, then silently continued walking up to the door of the second-floor master bedroom.
From the corner of his eye, Yu Qinzhou noticed the young man’s serious, thinking expression, but did not interrupt him. Instead, he deliberately said nothing as he pushed open the master bedroom door and walked straight into the bathroom.
As a result, Ming Qi actually followed him in.
Yu Qinzhou turned around and stopped. Ming Qi reacted immediately, halting his steps. One hand grabbed the door frame. First he gave Yu Qinzhou a slightly confused look, then his gaze passed over Yu Qinzhou’s shoulder and landed on the completely unfamiliar bathroom interior. His pupils slightly dilated.
He immediately stepped back.
“You…”
Yu Qinzhou raised an eyebrow slightly. “Weren’t you the one who followed me in? Why are you nervous?”
Ming Qi: “……”
A “it was an accident” slipped out of his mouth, and then he turned and ran.
Leaving Yu Qinzhou standing there, quietly laughing.
…
Yu Qinzhou had the habit of taking a shower after coming home from work. Ming Qi figured he had nothing else to do anyway, so he also moved his bathing time forward before bedtime. When he changed into his fluffy pajamas and went downstairs, Yu Qinzhou had already finished cleaning up as well.
The man’s gaze briefly swept over Ming Qi’s pajamas—various styles, but all in a similar soft aesthetic—then slowly landed on the hat behind him.
On the hat was a cartoon rabbit with a slightly silly expression, its long gray-black ears hanging down naturally.
Just like Ming Qi himself—soft and harmless.
“Dinner first? It’s getting late,” Yu Qinzhou asked.
Ming Qi nodded.
Although he wasn’t really hungry.
Zhang Cong might lack some social finesse, but Di Xiang was very attentive. She would thoughtfully have the nanny prepare desserts and afternoon snacks, afraid the main cast would go hungry. The nanny’s baking skills were quite good, and Ming Qi ended up being the one who ate the most among the actors.
Jiang Pengyi had even said enviously, “I really envy Ming Qi’s metabolism. Unlike me, I gain weight just by drinking water. The last airport photos made netizens say I looked fat.”
Ming Qi had just seen that trending topic. In truth, it wasn’t really fat—just that his face looked puffy on camera.
Luckily, he didn’t usually have that problem.
Coming back to the present, he sat across from Yu Qinzhou and casually ate a few bites before putting down his chopsticks. In the end, he couldn’t help but say, “Bu Yi Shen Tan… the staff member from Ah Yue’s studio said you gave him a sum of money to buy the material in his hands.”
Yu Qinzhou’s hand holding the chopsticks paused slightly, as if a little surprised.
“You were thinking so hard earlier that you followed me into the bathroom just for this?”
Why bring up the bathroom again.
Ming Qi felt a little uncomfortable, but still nodded.
“Ah Yue has recently been interested in paparazzi studio work. He also pays more attention to the entertainment industry, so after seeing related news he came to me.”
The real reason was that He Paparazzo had dropped a bomb by posting the video of him and Ming Qi’s marriage registration into the group chat. After that, everyone in the studio more or less started paying attention to Ming Qi. Once they saw he was in trouble, they immediately reported it upward. Before Min Zhengyue even had to say anything, they had already prepared useful material.
“So you knew before I did,” Ming Qi pointed out.
Yu Qinzhou smiled.
If Ming Qi had stayed at Zhang Cong’s place a bit longer, this matter probably wouldn’t even have needed to reach Yu Qinzhou—it would already have been resolved. After all, Meng She wouldn’t disturb Ming Qi while he was working, otherwise he wouldn’t have gone to discuss things with the crew staff in advance and only called after carefully timing Ming Qi’s return home.
“They stayed out in the cold winter for hours just to get a video. Paying to buy it is only right.”
Ming Qi nodded in agreement, then couldn’t help but quietly ask, “So how much did you spend?”
As soon as he asked, Yu Qinzhou looked at him with a half-smile.
That gaze was too direct, making Ming Qi a little nervous. He fidgeted with his fingers and asked again, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Curious what you’re planning to do after knowing the number. Pay me back?”
Ming Qi: “……”
He guessed too accurately.
For a moment he didn’t speak, so Yu Qinzhou put down his chopsticks and said slowly, “Mr. Ming, family doesn’t keep accounts between each other.”
Ming Qi immediately said, “You called me Mr. Ming.”
That sounded distant, didn’t it?
That already counted as keeping accounts, didn’t it?
Yu Qinzhou understood what he meant and found his reaction speed rather amusing.
So he said, “Then behave a little better, and I won’t call you Mr. Ming.”