“I was just purely curious.”
The young man’s eyes, clear and pure like jade washed clean after rain, seemed to say, “I’m telling the truth, I’m not lying.” However, Yu Qinzhou rarely took the bait this time.
“Curiosity killed the cat.”
“Little Eight is sleeping soundly in my room,” Ming Qi muttered, and didn’t say anything else.
In fact, after Yu Qinzhou said “family doesn’t keep accounts between each other,” he had already dropped the idea of paying him back. Although his connection with Yu Qinzhou originally came from a contractual agreement, Ming Qi wasn’t foolish. After spending this time together, he could clearly feel how sincere Yu Qinzhou was toward him.
However—thinking of that—
Ming Qi suddenly asked, “Why hasn’t the Old Master come looking for trouble with me?”
Yu Qinzhou paused.
Wasn’t this topic change a little too fast? So fast that he almost didn’t react in time.
After a few seconds of silence, the man glanced at him. “Mr. Ming is drawing such a clear line with me, it’s practically written on your face: ‘My relationship with Yu Qinzhou is a contractual marriage.’ At a time like this, what would the Old Master even come here for? To laugh at me?”
Ming Qi quietly took a sip of fresh juice.
That sounded a little guilty.
He hurriedly said in a small voice, “Don’t call it two separate families.”
Although the way Yu Qinzhou said “Qiqi” always carried a low, lingering warmth that made Ming Qi feel an odd mix of embarrassment and inexplicable shyness, compared to the slightly cutting “Mr. Ming,” it was simply too much more pleasant.
Yu Qinzhou followed his wish and said, “Once you’re used to it, you can fully play the role of my life partner. I’ll inform the Old Master.”
Ming Qi felt he was already adapting quite well. Besides—
“I think my acting skills should be fine now.”
“Oh?” Yu Qinzhou slowly curled his lips. Under Ming Qi’s gaze, he placed his pale hand on the table.
Ming Qi: “?”
Yu Qinzhou: “You see, no sense of tacit understanding at all.”
That sounded… strangely reasonable.
But he really didn’t know what Yu Qinzhou was trying to do.
Some things couldn’t be supported by acting alone.
Seeing Ming Qi’s serious expression as if he were genuinely reflecting on it, Yu Qinzhou continued slowly, “At this moment, as my partner, you should place your hand in my palm, sit on my lap, wrap your arms around my neck, and kiss me.”
With every word Yu Qinzhou said, Ming Qi’s eyes widened a little more.
Then he heard Yu Qinzhou add, “The latter part has nothing to do with tacit understanding. Qiqi, want to try practicing your acting on the spot? Let me see if you pass.”
Ming Qi: “……”
His gaze, just like when he had first heard “if you need anything, you can come to me,” uncontrollably drifted along Yu Qinzhou’s arm and then toward him.
Because the table blocked most of the man’s long, powerful legs, he had to settle for staring at Yu Qinzhou’s lips instead.
Yu Qinzhou had naturally thin lips.
They looked… like they might be easy to kiss.
Easy to kiss?
The thought flashed through his mind so suddenly that Ming Qi almost buried himself in his plate.
Something was wrong with him.
Yu Qinzhou was discussing acting with him, and he was secretly thinking about all kinds of nonsense.
Too much, Ming Qi!
He lifted his head again, eyes becoming unusually determined. He said word by word, “I also think I should practice more. It’s too early for me to face the Old Master right now.”
“When Qiqi wants to train his acting, you can find me anytime.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t actors rehearse scenes?” Yu Qinzhou explained slowly. “Better to act today than pick another day. Why not try now?”
Try now, suffer now.
Ming Qi decisively put down his chopsticks and fled with a “I’m going to check whether Little Eight is awake,” escaping upstairs.
But even after returning to the bedroom and kneading Little Eight’s soft paw pads, Ming Qi still kept thinking about the conversation.
He felt avoiding it wasn’t right. Even though Yu Qinzhou’s “better today than another day” had been way too sudden, this was still part of what he needed to cooperate on.
…He had been in the industry for over two years and still hadn’t filmed a kissing scene.
Of course, the main reason was that a minor supporting role that only appeared in obscure corners didn’t need any kissing scenes at all.
Little Eight was woken up by his absent-minded squeezing, meowed a few times, then kicked Ming Qi’s arm with its hind legs.
Ming Qi looked down at it seriously. “How can you kick Dad?”
“Meow.”
He stuffed a little fish toy into its paws and thought for a long time before opening Bo Hongfang’s WeChat.
77: Senior.
Bo Hongfang, whose phone was always within reach, quickly sent a question mark.
77: Have you ever filmed a kissing scene?
After sending it, Ming Qi waited anxiously. No reply came for a long time.
Was that question too abrupt? Too inappropriate? That shouldn’t be the case—he wasn’t asking Bo Hongfang to film one with him.
While his thoughts were still spiraling, the chat finally lit up with a red dot.
Senior Bo: [KISS / seductive compilation / Bo Hongfang kissing scene collection since debut] Your brother’s old kissing scenes are seriously wow, why is he only doing fight scenes now? Isn’t a handsome man’s kissing scene + bed scene more explosive and watchable?
Ming Qi: “……”
He truly hadn’t expected Bo Hongfang to be so considerate as to dig up a fan-made compilation of his old kissing scenes.
Senior Bo: You clearly haven’t watched my films from my twenties. Tsk tsk tsk. Go study it properly and get a feel for it.
Senior Bo: If you still can’t, I’ll have the “Undercover” crew teach you in person tomorrow. They’re all very experienced, you’ll definitely be satisfied.
Ming Qi was surprised that this could even be taught in person, and quickly replied: Thank you, Senior.
Senior Bo: No need to be polite.
Senior Bo: Don’t forget to watch the video—I think this edit is the best one.
Ming Qi: “……”
You really are something.
He clicked the video, and the first thing that appeared was an extremely explicit bed scene. Back then, Bo Hongfang didn’t yet have his current hardened tough-guy image. His features were neat and clean, his skin fair rather than tanned, giving off more of a youthful, flirtatious pretty-boy vibe.
The video was ten minutes long, paired with a perfectly fitting background soundtrack that amplified every trace of ambiguity.
Especially for a good actor like Ming Qi, he would subconsciously substitute himself into the roles in his mind—imagining himself and his “cooperation partner,” Yu Qinzhou, kissing.
Just the thought of it made warmth quietly rise to his face.
He pressed his lips together and turned off the phone screen, then buried his face into the soft blanket.
Little Eight seized the opportunity and jumped onto his back, plopping down.
A knock came at the door right at that moment—dong dong dong—like a gunshot breaking into a silent place, startling birds into chaotic flight. Ming Qi’s heart thumped rapidly. He quickly turned his head.
“Who is it?”
Yu Qinzhou’s voice came from outside the door. “Can I come in?”
Ming Qi grabbed Little Eight off his back, hurriedly called out “Yes,” and ran into the bathroom.
He casually splashed cold water on his face to cool down, then walked back out. Yu Qinzhou was already standing by the bed, bending slightly to tease Little Eight.
Noticing Ming Qi’s damp hair tips and the un-wiped water on his face, Yu Qinzhou asked, “Washing your face?”
Ming Qi nodded, then asked, “Why did you come over?”
“I haven’t seen my son all day. I came to check how comfortable his Daddy’s bed is.”
When Yu Qinzhou left in the morning, Little Eight was still sound asleep on Ming Qi’s bed. When he came back in the evening, it was still sound asleep on Ming Qi’s bed—so comfortable it made Yu Qinzhou glance at it twice.
While speaking, Yu Qinzhou’s hand casually touched Little Eight’s belly.
At that moment, the phone lying aside lit up.
A push notification from a video platform:
[Bo Hongfang’s Most Complete Kissing Scene Compilation… Click to Watch]
Thanks to Ming Qi’s profession as an actor, Yu Qinzhou more or less recognized a few names in the entertainment industry. Bo Hongfang was one of them.
Yu Qinzhou turned his head—and as expected, he saw Ming Qi, who had also noticed the notification.
Their eyes met.
Yu Qinzhou finally understood why Ming Qi had gone through the trouble of washing his face just now. A faint curve appeared on his lips.
He deliberately asked, “Secretly studying?”
Ming Qi: “……”
He stubbornly replied, “Just doing a little research.”
Yu Qinzhou: “Then has Qiqi heard of a saying?”
Ming Qi: “What?”
Yu Qinzhou: “Practice leads to true understanding. Theory alone isn’t enough.”
Ming Qi: “……”
I understand the logic, but I’m not mentally prepared yet.
…
After sending off this “big Buddha,” Ming Qi collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted.
He felt Yu Qinzhou hadn’t come to tease the cat at all—he had come to tease him.
Ming Qi placed both hands under Little Eight’s armpits and looked it in the eye.
“You’re really bad, your other Daddy.”
Little Eight cooperated with a soft “meow,” successfully making Ming Qi laugh.
There was a strange satisfaction in feeling like a family of three, except the son was clearly on his side.
Ming Qi played with Little Eight for a while, then turned on a movie. After finishing it, he casually checked Weibo.
After the “Bu Yi Shen Tan” clarification, his comment section looked much better. Meanwhile, under Luo Yongning’s latest post, there were all kinds of sarcastic remarks, and people were digging for the identity of Luo Yongning’s scandal partner.
Mixed in was Meng She’s announcement, posted under Ming Qi’s personal name, stating a lawsuit against YJDAOEN.
Netizens glanced through it.
[@MingQi77 why hasn’t your company reacted at all?]
[Shouldn’t this be posted by the company or studio?]
[I have a friend in the industry who said Ming Qi is basically being left on his own. I didn’t believe it before… but this guy really could’ve become a top star just by his face if they cared even a little.]
[Poor guy.]
Meng She messaged Ming Qi:
Meng Mom: This counts as a turning point for you. Your Weibo followers have increased a lot, and your public perception is improving too.
Meng Mom: But that’s all superficial. Just take a quick look—what matters is acting well.
Ming Qi replied that he understood.
Meng Mom: Sleep early. You’re still riding with Mr. Yu tomorrow, right? No need for me to send you?
77: Yeah. You should rest at home, Brother. You were probably shaken up today.
Meng Mom: I’m fine, just almost had a heart attack : )
Next day.
Yu Qinzhou drove the same low-key Maybach as yesterday and dropped Ming Qi off at the small villa.
Watching Ming Qi casually push an empty wheelchair down the path—acting very boldly despite the surroundings being empty—Yu Qinzhou found it somewhat amusing.
That “leg injury but still insists on acting” persona really never dropped.
When Ming Qi disappeared from view, Yu Qinzhou didn’t linger and drove off.
Not long after, the main cast arrived one after another. The moment they saw Ming Qi, they patted his shoulder in sympathy and joked, “That must’ve been pretty intense yesterday, huh?”
In truth, it was alright.
After all, he hadn’t really done anything himself—someone else had already handled it for him.
Veteran actors in the circle exchanged knowing looks. Zhao Wenbin said meaningfully, “That’s the entertainment industry. If you’re in someone’s way, they’ll try to ruin you. We can’t control what others think—just focus on ourselves. Do well in Undercover.”
Ming Qi understood the reminder and nodded seriously.
Not far away, Huai Manyun looked at Jiang Pengyi and Fu Yu, both with dark eye circles and yawning nonstop.
“You two went out stealing at night? Your bags are about to hit your chins. If you fall asleep during script reading later, Director Zhang will sweep you out with a broom.”
Jiang Pengyi shivered. “Director Zhang is that scary?”
Then he muttered gloomily, “No choice. Stayed up half the night being a melon-eating monkey in the gossip field. The most annoying thing is this generation of netizens—they still haven’t figured out Luo Yongning’s scandal partner.”
Huai Manyun laughed. “All this just for that?”
Fu Yu couldn’t help but add, “Of course not. He was previously dragged into a smear campaign by Luo Yongning’s team, so he’s holding a grudge. He’s been running ten burner accounts all night under Luo Yongning’s trending topics stirring things up.”
Huai Manyun: “What about you? You didn’t sleep either.”
Fu Yu: “I’m responsible for liking his posts.”
Bu Hongfang, who had also spent the entire night consuming gossip, drifted down from upstairs. Hearing this, he generously said, “How about I lend you guys some money to buy some bots?”